Why we should kill the kill fee

I’m now on my last 10 days in Colombia, baking away along the hot and sticky coastline. Since I last emailed, I spent two days in/around La Guajira in northern Colombia - where safe drinking water is a challenge - interviewing key water advocates from the indigenous Wayuu community (I really wish I could have stayed there for weeks and report on more stories that need to be told). I visited this region, parts of which experienced a drought for up to four years, without a commission. Plans were changed the night before due to safety issues, meaning the original (and potential) story had to be axed. I’ve come out of my own expense - and on a hunch that I can hopefully find a publication to write about what the community shared with me. Pitches to be fired out soon 🖊️. 

I’ve also wore my weary legs out during a rewarding but challenging three-day hike to the lost ruins of Bunkuany (believed to have been built by the Tairona people circa 500-800 AD), had chill and fiesta time at cool beach town Palomino, and I’m now at Minca, a cooler inland town with the Sierra Nevada mountains as a lush backdrop (I was up at 5am this morning to go birdwatching – it’s a birdwatcher’s paradise here).

ANYHOW. I’m sure you’re not here for such musings. I wanted to tell you about a recent experience of being told my story had been ‘killed' - this is the term used to mean your story (in this case, an article) will not be published.

The story starts with me pitching to a new outlet (to me), and one I thought I could build up a relationship with. The pitch was accepted and a detailed brief that asked more questions that could possibly fit into a 1,000-word piece was sent over. I worked on this story last year, interviewing about six different companies in-person (to add colour to the piece), all for well over an hour each. The piece was filed in late November with a note that I was heading away in early January. I was assured that queries would be sent over asap. Except they didn’t, so I pushed again. And then a day or two before I leaving, extensive edits were sent over. Unfortunately, in the chaos involved in preparing for leaving for five months (finding someone to stay in my flat, sorting the flat for said person, as well as goodbyes etc) as well as other work commitments, I said I would have to crack on with the edits the following week. Two days later they chased, without acknowledging the previous email, saying they had wanted to run it early the following month. I again explained the impossibility of the situation. 

During my first week away I worked on the edits. But as it meant going back to every single source and contacting several more organisations for comment (as requested) it was impossible for this to be done within a few days - so I explained this. I spent about four more hours getting the piece into shape with their requested amends.

And then about a month after I refiled the piece, I received an email explaining that because they felt the main source couldn't provide more data and hadn’t achieved enough in this area, they had decided not to go ahead with this article and I would receive 25% of the fee. This was my first proper experience of a kill fee and I was in shock. I had spent about 35-40 hours on the piece and had worked on extensive edits. I explained that was not acceptable, but they said this was in the contract and that was it. (Such an unethical practice coming from the sustainability editor of a sustainability section of a magazine was not lost on me.)

When this happened it made me question (even more) the journalism industry and the way journalists are treated. I had worked tirelessly on the piece, was proud of it, had fulfilled the brief and then gone through extensive edits (and whilst on the holiday part of my trip). Even though there was some missing information by said main organisation (it’s hard to explain but this couldn’t be changed), there was still plenty of detailed information in the piece and figures from them. I honestly couldn’t envisage any of my other editors deciding not to run with the story. Disappointed and frustrated, I contacted two lawyers but unfortunately, due to a contract they had sent over and I had signed, I didn’t stand a chance of questioning this any further. I know there’s always an analogy to tradespeople in situations like this, but still: imagine getting your boiler fixed, asking for more ways to make it even stronger, and then saying as you’re not using it, you’re only willing to pay 25%. 

Unfortunately, speaking to others in the industry, this happens a lot. Maybe I should consider myself fortunate this is my first experience in my 20 years working as journalist, but it still hurts. How this practice is allowed (along many others that always disadvantage the journalist) is beyond me. 

I am in the process of pitching the piece to other titles, though as it is quite niche I’m unsure if it can be picked up. 

I am also gutted that all of these contacts had gone out of their way to speak to me and then responded to all those additional questions and for nada. Though as I have mentioned before in past blogs, nothing is guaranteed.