The Pitch
A failed pitch. Just self-publish!
Some explanation: I submitted this to The Isis Magazine. It is entirely about wanting to be in The Isis Magazine. They didn't want it, which is amusing, considering its content. They did want it in their newsletter though, which is arguably even more amusing. This is neither the version that I submitted to them nor the version that was printed in the newsletter. It’s probably only funny if you’re aware of The Isis Magazine. Say it again: The Isis Magazine.
It’s hard to write something for The Isis, because for me, the notable theme when trying to write for The Isis is that I want to be in it. I don’t have anything particular to say that I feel readers of The Isis should hear. In fact I suspect that readers of The Isis are largely friends of the people who write The Isis, who pick up a copy of The Isis from Plodge because their friend Wodge wrote a poem. They get home and read Wodge’s poem and think ‘Man. It’s crazy that Wodge’s name is actually Lucas Pemberton’ and then they use the magazine as a coaster with the intention of using it for collaging, and then bin it at 2am on Friday of 8th week.
Lucas Pemberton believes and dreams that his being published in The Isis will set him on a non-divertible track to becoming a better-fated Sylvia Plath or similar person of note. I would rather like to be Wodge, in the sense that I would like to be published in The Isis, for I share his beliefs. Being in The Isis could be advantageous, career-wise. But does Wodge have a Substack with five subscribers? (you’re already here - subscribe!) Has Wodge been published in The Oxford Blue? Cherwell? Perhaps I already have greater advantages than Wodge, even if he has been published in The Isis.
Ah, Wodge. I’ll confess that because we’re not really friends, but sometimes chat at pres, I actually address him as Lucas Pemberton. If I was from Reading maybe I’d brave saying ‘Wodge’ as a marker of intimacy. I consider myself ‘normal’ within my college - that is, more normal than everyone else, who, under the surface of their kebab-eating in New Block, is a careerist hack grammar school medical father consultant mother Radiohead fan, who I will steal Tesco Juicy off if pressed. But really I am rather like them, and would rather like to be them. I might mock my comrades but that’s only because they pose a challenge. If I’m published by you, The Isis, I could join them and become simulacra Wodge entirely.
Becoming what I’d like to be when I’m older will be accelerated by being in The Isis. Being Sylvia Plath-esque maybe isn’t the path for me but maybe being a stable and exciting writer/editor/Caitlin Moran/Nigella Lawson (unlikely - not enough breasts) is. When I’m older I’d like to write and I’d also like to be extremely chill about it; neither feeling resentful for not making it big, nor feel power hungry, crazed and manic for working all the time at a job that I always want more of. I will have fought off the likes of Wodge (now referred to professionally as Lucas Pemberton) for such a job, despite us having exactly the same things on our CVs. Also, I won’t work all the time, even if I want to, which I probably will. My lover who I love will show me the other fun things and we’ll eat tea sometimes with candlesticks at tables and other times watching Top Gear, and discuss where we want to meet our friends Kayley and Adam at the weekend. All this is inevitable should I be published in The Isis.
Should I be published in The Isis, there will be no risk that working at a huge national newspaper might make me too stressed and that I should work at a regional one instead (or - whisper it - a museum). Also, my children won’t inherit mine and my partner’s anxiety disorders, and they’ll be able to write normal things for magazines that don’t feel the need to ‘confront’ their perceived ‘selfish’ and ‘careerist’ desires to be in print.
But being published in the newsletter? That would do, I guess. I can still say I’ve been published by The Isis on my CV and no one will know. It could be very funny, to publish my unsuccessful pitch about pitching in the newsletter, not the magazine, so everyone knows that a) I have been unsuccessful b) my children will undoubtedly have anxiety disorders for the whole of their lives and c) it is possible to be too blunt.