The Dubliner is a monthly general interest magazine. We publish stories on everything from architecture to sex. Many of the magazine’s readers are men and women in their 20s and 30s, although we have subscribers who are aged between 18 and 74. Our readers are affluent, sophisticated, media-literate and demanding. Politically, they go from far left to far right. However, as the name suggests, The Dubliner is about life in Ireland’s capital; without being parochial, we often – but not always – run stories that have some relevance to a local audience.
Pitching story ideas
We only accept submissions by email. Please do not ring the office to discuss pitches.
In the first instance, send a 1-200 word synopsis of what you intend to say in an article.
Never approach us with half-baked ideas. The worst words to read in any proposal are: “I just dashed this off,” “I haven’t really had a chance to think this through yet,” or “this is just a vague idea.” If it’s worth pitching, it’s worth pitching well. Don’t submit your idea until you know exactly what you are doing and where you want to go with it.
Do include ideas for panels or sub-sections within an article – we like anything that lends context. If, for instance, you propose to write a story about your experience in a cult, it might be useful to run a brief synopsis of the cults operating in Ireland today, or famous cult events, beside the main article.
Don’t pitch random ideas. We are always interested in original, unusual stories that are specifically tailored for The Dubliner. We’re often approached by people with ideas for stories that have no place in the magazine (indeed, in any magazine). If we had wanted to run a series on “Dublin characters,” for example, we would have done so by now. Read the magazine carefully, absorb a sense of its identity, then think of stories that reflect that identity.
Do try to come up with amusing, original story ideas. If you’ve seen a similar article elsewhere, our readers probably have too.
Do try to come up with ideas that you are uniquely qualified to write, because you were somehow involved with whatever era/operation/person you are writing about and therefore have a unique perspective and knowledge. Do you have specialist knowledge about a subject that would interest our readers? Do you know a public figure particularly well? Are you at the centre of a story that is widely misunderstood? If so, we want to hear about it.
A word to the paranoid loner
If you are anxious because we have not responded to a pitch within
seven days, send us another email. Be polite – or extremely rude. As former freelancers we know how
paranoid it is easy to become when working alone off-site (Why aren't
these bastards responding? Don't they know who I am? This story can't wait etc). We assure
you: it is not malice that prevents us from responding. Like everyone
else who works in small magazines, we have a large amount to accomplish
in a very short time, and sometimes, even brilliant ideas are put to one
side for a very good reason: next month's issue was supposed to be printed yesterday.
Payment
The Dubliner pays contributors 15 cents per word published. Articles in the magazine average 900-1000 words. We pay by cheque on the day of publication, and we do not require contributors to submit invoices.
Deadlines
Writers who treat deadlines with disdain are amusing in the same way that a pub bore has, at least, something to say for himself. They usually end up working elsewhere.
If you are commissioned to write a story:
First, do yourself a favour. Read Graydon Carter's three-step guide to writing a memorable magazine article by clicking here.
Finished? Honestly? Good. In that case you know all about disclosure, access and narrative.
Next, remember the basics: introduction, body, conclusion. Talk to the right people. Wear your research lightly – but not too lightly. Use signposts. Verify allegations. Acknowledge opposing views. Supply context. Shock. Amuse.
Don't send us your first draft. Even if we like the idea and commission you to write it, it’s not enough to dash off a sloppy few thousand words and bung them over. Re-read your article carefully for errors and make sure you are totally happy before submitting it. We may want to change some things anyway, but will always have far more respect for a piece that was properly finished before being submitted.
If you couldn’t be bothered to spell words correctly,
we couldn’t be bothered to read them. When words are misspelled everyone
looks a bit silly, but no one looks more silly than you, the writer. Particularly embarrassing
are mistakes on proper nouns or surnames. If, for instance, you must
quote, say, Fidel Castro, at least have the wit to spell his name
properly.
What we are looking for
The Atlanta Tribune has a super guide for journalists posted on its website here. An edited version follows:
In evaluating an article, an editor will read it carefully to see what’s in it and what’s not. After reading it, editors ask themselves the following seven questions about the piece. Does the piece have:
1. A clear angle? The piece must be about something – not
all about something, but something about something. If it’s a profile,
for example, it should not be a biography; it should be about some part
or aspect of the subject’s life. Other material may be included, but
the piece should focus on something specific. The piece should convey a
main message, a central idea or major theme. It should not be merely a
fact sheet or encyclopaedia entry. It ought to make one big, overriding
point – but not more than one. More than one angle is no angle.
Furthermore, if it’s an assigned piece, the angle should be the same one described to the author when the piece was assigned.
2. An effective lead? A lead is supposed to (a) stop the perusing reader, (b) introduce the subject and (c) draw the reader into the piece. What’s more, the lead should not merely introduce the subject, but should introduce it within the context of the angle. For example, if the piece is about the governor’s wife being her husband’s most enthusiastic campaigner, the lead should show her in connection with a campaign, not in the kitchen or selecting new draperies.
3. A clear justifier? The justifier – or peg – is a sentence or paragraph, maybe more than one paragraph, that (a) tells the reader what’s going on in the lead if it isn’t obvious, (b) tries to establish newsworthiness, or relevance, in order to give the reader a reason to read the piece and (c) hints at what is to come and what the reader will find out by reading the piece. The justifier is the link between the lead and the body of the piece.
4. Anecdotes and other narrative? The piece, whatever its subject or angle, must be readable – interesting and easy to read – and the most effective way to make it readable is to use anecdotes and/or other narrative. The piece should have anecdotes that illustrate, that support generalisations that show the subject to the reader. Narrative is the kind of writing that shows action, unlike exposition, which merely explains or tells. The piece ought to show, not just tell.
5. Lively quotes, descriptive detail and other specifics? A piece needs, as William Emerson used to say, voices. It should let the reader hear someone other than the author.
The piece should also let the reader see – and hear and smell and feel
– for himself. Insofar as possible, the piece ought always to be
showing the reader something, making pictures form in the reader’s
mind, because pictures, particularly action pictures, are much more
interesting and much more likely to hold the reader’s interest than
abstractions.
The piece should avoid vagueness and generalities
by giving the reader specifics – names, dates, places, times,
identifications, numbers, all the appropriate and needed details.
6. A logical organisation? The material shouldn’t be simply dumped onto the pages of the manuscript and left for the reader to sort out. It should be arranged and presented to the reader in a logical, make-sense, what-does-the-reader-need-to-know-next sequence.
7. An appropriate conclusion? The piece should not simply peter out or end abruptly. It should have a conclusion that lets the reader feel satisfied by the piece in the same way a diner, having eaten the dessert, feels satisfied by a meal.
Our sub-editor's minor obsessions
1. Before you submit your story, read it for cliché. Any phrase that sounds too familiar or tired will not be printed.
2. 'Show, don't tell.' Many professional journalists ignore this basic principle.
3. Shakespeare was right. Brevity is the soul of wit. If you can possibly say something in fewer words, do.
4. Does your story meet at least two of Graydon Carter's demands? If you're not sure, read them again by clicking here.
Finally, don’t be surprised if we are forced to re-write copy – unless, of course, it’s faultless.
In short, be perfect, and we’ll all get along nicely.
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