The Pitfalls Of A Late Submission

The eagle-eyed among you may notice that I like, on Travmedia requests, to have an unusual deadline. Why not have 5.52 instead of 5.50, for instance? I feel sorry for those times not ending in 0 or 5; it’s not fair that they get less attention.

Numerical silliness aside, my deadlines are always strict. Any submissions arriving later are simply ignored, unless I’m still short on sufficient options (which is rare). I can’t know for sure if other requesting journalists work the same way, but I presume most do.

As a result, I always feel a mix of sadness and understanding when someone is late in submitting an idea to me. Sadness because it was precious time wholly wasted; understanding because if you don’t buy a ticket… and so on. Sometimes there’s bemusement, too, when the pitch comes in three days late and makes no reference to its tardiness. Did they just assume this was an indefinite deadline; that I’d be writing this list of Europe’s best beach resorts ad infinitum? What a terrible thought.

Moral of the story: with me, at least, it’s utterly pointless pitching late. Instead, spend that time making some quality coffee, trawling for angles, or writing some of that blasted monthly report.

This week, Roxhill will launch an alternative way for journalists to ask you for help. When I submit a story request on its new Voice Notes app, you wonders can reply by voice note, allowing me to time-savingly respond with four simple tappable options: “Call me”, “Email me”, “Not Interested” –- the tactful Roxhill version of offering one’s cheek at the end of a chemistry-free date –- or I can tap to reply to you with my own voice note.

Better yet, once my stated deadline has passed, you won’t be able to waste your time and orally pitch – although that’s not to say you can’t email me, of course. I beg you not to do so, though. It won’t be worth it.