To All The Articles I Didn't Write

An insight into The Saint's cutting room floor

Check, check, one, two, three. This is your favourite correspondent writing. Yes, that one. The one behind such award-winning articles as that one about how I hate reading, the multiple ones where I bash British Imperialism and try to shoehorn in the term ‘North of Ireland,’ or, as I’m frequently reminded by complete strangers at Aikman’s, that one regrettable article where, for a week, I did everything Co-Star told me to do. 

It is with a heavy heart that I announce my departure from The Saint. For almost two years, I have been this newspaper’s tireless servant, pulling three new pitches, bi-weekly, out of my sleeve — or, according to my critics, my arse. And, as any diligent reader will have noticed, only one pitch got published in each issue. That is, when I wasn’t stuck in the Devil’s Advocate column writing about pornography.  

Well, lucky for you, dear reader, I’ve kept a meticulous list of all my pitches, including those that were ‘TOO HOT FOR PRINT,’ those that were frankly too dumb to print, and those that were simply impossible to print. 

Let’s start with the downright impossible: in an effort to one-up my Co-Star article, I once offered to go a week without using my hands just so that I could write a silly article about it. Unfortunately, by the time the editors realised how brilliant the idea was, I was knee-deep in dissertation work and had picked up a sport that requires you to use your hands 90% of the time (shoutout Gaelic Football). 

My second-ever pitch became obsolete faster than you can type ‘https://www.thesaintnewspaper.co.uk/profile/476c739d-6b6f-4915-847d-8971d1dbe839/profile’. The unparalleled political pundit that I am, I decided to pitch a piece about abortion being the “end of Trump.” Then, the election results came in, and it turned out the average voter cares a lot less about fundamental rights when they can’t afford milk — not that Trump has done anything to bring down the price of milk except… start a war with Iran? 

Anyway, speaking of dumb, many of my more ‘unconventional’ pitches likewise didn’t make the cut. There was the time I pitched an article chronicling “shit St Andrews students say” à la overheardrews, or when, in the midst of a Pokémon-card-enthralled stupor, I pitched an article basically defending gambling. Another wildcard pitch was to interview students and see what articles they wanted to see in print — very meta. Speaking of meta, I very nearly got a Mad Libs-style article published. It would’ve looked something like this: “Late last night, a [university course] student was found [verb ending in -ing] a(n) [animal] at the back of [(in)famous St Andrews establishment and/or place of worship]” with readers filling in the blanks and the best rendition getting published. 

Of course, the winning answer could easily have been ‘TOO HOT FOR PRINT.’ I know many of my own pitches have been unceremoniously rejected by The Saint. Among some of my ‘hottest’ pitches were: a treatise defending armed resistance and an article entitled “Not All Terrorists/Murders Are the Same”. One pitch I tried my very best to get published was an article on “Why I (as a Dane) Hate Sweden.” It was supposed to be a tongue-in-cheek commentary on silly national rivalries, and why the world would be a better place if our most heated disagreements were about what time to eat dinner or how to celebrate Christmas… but I fear no amount of tracking, back-tracking, and re-tracking could convince the editors that the pitch was actually kosher. 

But, dear reader, you didn’t just miss out on my insane ramblings; you also missed out on what I thought were genuinely decent takes. In an alternate universe, you could've also read about: the importance of male friendships, the worrying aestheticisation of politics, the myth of ‘nice guys’ finishing last, and why it’s not just impossible but bad cultural analysis to separate art from artist. But, as readers of my academic writings will know, we don’t live in an alternate universe, for there is no such thing. So, I bid you all farewell as I take the next step on my journey: a PhD at Trinity College Dublin, where (this time) I’m getting paid to write, albeit about less student-y topics like “the ontology of abstract objects and their role in philosophical explanation.”

Love you all, and slán go foill!