Tag Archives: health

How to pitch the Guardian, Independent, Daily Mail etc.

So, a couple of weeks ago I sent a pitch to the Guardian. Despite casually dropping, “Oh, used to write for the Guardian …” into any conversation I’ve ever had, I haven’t written that much for the Guardian. But I have written for the Guardian before. A few times. I just want to make that clear.

Anyway, here’s the pitch I sent to Ann Lee, commissioning editor for G2.

….

To: annlee@guardian.co.uk

From: steve@stevewriteswords.com

Date: Aug 6th 2026

Hi Ann,

Like no doubt many others, I was pleased to see that the UK government is bringing in walk-in mental health hubs (in banks, libraries etc.) for those experiencing mental health conditions.

As the BBC reported yesterday:

Ministers have set out plans to create a network of nearly 200 community mental health centres and mental health A&Es by 2029.

The aim is to give those experiencing a mental health crisis or significant distress somewhere to go to get help when they need it – with plans to open dozens of the hubs in high street locations like banks and libraries.

One in five people struggle with their mental health and thousands of people turn up at A&E when they get to crisis point because they cannot find help elsewhere.

My slight quibble with this is that it feels a bit too late for me. 

When I was nineteen I started getting panic attacks and visual distortions and would hear voices, particularly at nighttime. 

This, as you might expect, terrified me. And I carried that terror around with me for a year or so and watched in horror as these symptoms worsened. Finally, I plucked up the courage to see my GP. (I was worried about getting sectioned – or worse.) 

My GP’s advice?

“What you need is a long walk on the beach.”

And so began a long, steady march towards decades of mental health problems. I’ve been diagnosed with a bunch of different mental health conditions – C-PTSD, BPD, and depression among them – and have experienced disorders as varied as exploding head syndrome (about as bad as it sounds) but nothing has quite stuck. 

In fact, I’m pretty much a normal, buoyant, functioning member of society now. But I often wonder how my 20s, 30s and 40s might have looked if I’d had better mental health care at those critical times as an adolescent. 

I’d have probably drunk a bit less and worked a bit more. I’d have paid more taxes. Maybe I’d have kids and a driving licence and a permanent place to live. Perhaps I wouldn’t have scythed through relationships so readily. 

Anything in this? Do you think there’s something in using this personal experience as a jumping off point to explore the benefits of these in-the-pipeline mental health hubs? I have a handful of GPs, psychologists, mental health professionals and kindred spirits I could call upon at the drop of a hat for quotes etc. 

I’ve written for the Guardian before on mental health here, and about my life as a semi-professional poker player here, where I also detailed my unravelling mental health. I’m honestly tons better now. 

And, also honestly, I feel these mental health centres are a brilliant, much-needed initiative. 

Many thanks for reading Ann,

Steve

Hi Ann. Many thanks for reading Ann. What a creep.

Anyway, here’s what Ann replied:

” “

Yep, nothing. Crickets. So I gave it a few days and tried TWO editors at the Independent. Here’s what they said:

” “

Same thing. In a fit of a pique – because, you know me, I can often get piquey – I tried the Daily Mail. Same thing. Or rather: same nothing.

Yet I’m not that fussed. It’s taken me a long time to realise this but I love pitching. And I love the world. I love pitching the world! And, yes, there have been one or two bumps in the road since I launched this back in 2009 but I’m more convinced than ever that I’m going to be a famous writer.

Famous writer. I sound like a five-year-old girl. But it’s true. I feel like I’ll get there. Despite AI. Despite the ghosting. Despite all of this, whatever all of this is. All of that, and all of this, is going to propel me to exactly where I want to go, probably.

[ENDS]

Pitching The Guardian

Turns out I’m a big, fat liar.

Last time out, when I was writing about pitching The Drum, I said something like, “This is the first pitch I’ve sent in years.”

But then I remembered it wasn’t. See, a biggish thing happened to me last year. And I wanted to write about that biggish thing on here.

Thing is, when you’re writing about biggish things it’s easy to become foggy and mawkish. Plus: it’s still a bit raw.

A pitch on the other hand … I have no problem with posting a pitch about biggish things that have happened to me.

So here you go.

…………………

To: Andrew Gregory @TheGuardian; Barbara Speed @The Guardian

From: Pitching the World

Date: Apr 29, 2024

Subject: Post mini-stroke support is lacking – and alarming

Hi Barbara and Andrew,

First, huge apologies for the double-pitch. I didn’t know where this might be best suited – Opinion or Health. (It’s no excuse, really, but I’ve been out of the freelance journalism game for a while.)

Second, I feel like I have a decent feature brewing. 

Rageh Omaar had a suspected (by some) mini-stroke at the end of last week while hosting News at Ten and carried on. The week before that, I had a mini-stroke while playing tennis and also carried on. For about five games. Then I had to stop and go to the hospital in an ambulance with blue, flashing lights.

The incident was scary. I couldn’t speak properly. Plus: numb tongue, numb right side of my face, a numb right arm and numb right leg that wouldn’t really function. In hospital they tell you that you’ve had a mini-stroke – that bit is scary, too – and put you through all sorts of machines and do all manner of tests before popping you on statins, BP-lowering medication and anti-platelet medication before sending you home. 

But if the mini-stroke is scary, the landscape you face when you come out is scarier. I’m a reasonably fit, reasonably active, reasonably happy and reasonably middle-aged (48) writer. Yet I came out of the hospital worried. Worried that pushing too hard at work caused the stroke and that I might need to work at half the pace or – worse – give up work altogether. Worried that I’d have to move out of my flat. Worried that my life would unravel (again). 

Most of all, I was (and am) worried that I might have another stroke. I’ve seen some stats suggesting that almost one in three TIA survivors will go on to have a major stroke within a year. Some studies say that 11% of those who experience a TIA will have a bigger stroke within a week

The figures are hazy – and change from paper to paper and study to study. Yet the underlying reality is that TIAs are a warning and often signal a bigger stroke is on the way. So why is the after care so poor? Why are you sent from hospital with a follow-up appointment in six weeks’, a bag of drugs, and not much else? Why, with stroke being such a major cause of death and disability in the UK, are we not doing more to support those who have experienced a TIA – particularly in the first week or two?

And it doesn’t have to be massive help. Maybe some information on getting back to work, what you should and shouldn’t be eating, how often to exercise, how to deal with these blobs of depression and suicidal ideation. A number to call. A GP to chat with. That kind of thing. 

I’m really blathering, aren’t I? Sorry about that – it’s been a tricky couple of weeks. Anyway, anything in this, do you think?

Thanks for reading, cheerio for now,

Pitching the World

…………………

Updates on what happened with that pitch – and what happened to me after April – when I have the stomach for it.

April, earlier