Jolted
“So are you here to just waste both of our time?” said the doctor I was interviewing.
I was stunned. Never have I heard such brusque and frank words from someone I was interviewing. And the hurtful part of it all was that she was right; I was indeed just wasting time with this interview.
Serves me right, coming into the interview unprepared. I had met my interviewee - a doctor from an international health body - to talk about the real score of maternal mortality in the Philippines, and whether or not the country will be meeting its Millennium Development Goal target of reducing maternal mortality to 75% by 2015, which is just four years away.
We met in an expensive coffee shop inside the mall, thinking it would be the ideal place to conduct the interview. I had barely gotten through with the pleasantries - the polite exchange of greetings, looking into the other person’s background info - when my interviewee stopped me mid-question. She must have smelled something from me, because at the time, I smelled it perfectly. Despite all my efforts to conceal it, the air still reeked of the unmistakable scent of “bullshit,” mostly coming from my mouth. It was bullshit because all my questions seemed half-baked. Granted, I did read up on the topic the previous day; I did my homework and researched about MDGs and the rate of maternal death in the country, but that was just light reading when you consider the subject matter - I did legwork that barely scratched the surface of the issue at hand. It was sloppy research, one that hindered me from asking the critical and hard-hitting questions. I knew it, she knew it, and I was left to focus on the napkin on my table and mutter apologies.
However, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. In fact, I think that icy cold interview was the best thing that happened to my writing.
It was like waking up from a long sweet slumber. That venomous and much-needed wake-up call that showed how shitty a journalist I was jolted me from the quicksand trap of mediocrity I was currently stuck in. It was a deadly mix of complacency and overconfidence - a volatile combo that exploded on my face.
I apologized for having come unprepared and proceeded to pay the coffee bill, when she stopped me and told me to sit back down. She said that the subject matter was very complex and it’s understandable that I don’t know it that well. Then, she went on a tirade and lamented on how people don’t seem to read anymore, and how cocky past journalists who interviewed her were as they seem to think they knew everything. I accepted her criticisms whole-heartedly and burned it into my mind, along with the other lessons I learned from that interview: 1.) Never ever come off arrogant; 2.) Know your subject matter 200%, and if you DON’T really understand the subject matter; 3.) Don’t ask stupid questions that would show your ignorance and worse, waste both the interviewer and interviewee’s time.
It was only after getting my ego trampled on when the interview turned around. She told me that she would do me a favor and help me, since the topic is close to her heart and I look genuinely interested to write about it. She also mentioned that I seem like a decent guy who wouldn’t con her (I was just grateful I decided to comb my hair and put on deodorant that day). To cut the long story short, she gave me a list of people I can contact and some leads on where I can get prime information for my article, like going to public hospitals notorious for their appalling treatment of pregnant women. Pretty soon, we were talking about topics like healthcare and pregnancy, in a manner that friends do when catching up with each other. The conversation was so genuine that I couldn’t help liking this person, for her tact and her intent to help. She sent me off with well-wishes and told me “make a kick-ass article and become famous.” I hope I don’t disappoint.
In the end, what was originally a disastrous interview turned out to be one of the best lessons I got, when it comes to being a writer. I may not have gotten the information I need but my interviewer did give me something equally valuable: a much-needed reality check, and renewed drive to excel and work on my flaws. Despite that day’s mishaps, I still feel blessed. After all, it’s not often that you meet your muse in real life.
I was stunned. Never have I heard such brusque and frank words from someone I was interviewing. And the hurtful part of it all was that she was right; I was indeed just wasting time with this interview.
Serves me right, coming into the interview unprepared. I had met my interviewee - a doctor from an international health body - to talk about the real score of maternal mortality in the Philippines, and whether or not the country will be meeting its Millennium Development Goal target of reducing maternal mortality to 75% by 2015, which is just four years away.
We met in an expensive coffee shop inside the mall, thinking it would be the ideal place to conduct the interview. I had barely gotten through with the pleasantries - the polite exchange of greetings, looking into the other person’s background info - when my interviewee stopped me mid-question. She must have smelled something from me, because at the time, I smelled it perfectly. Despite all my efforts to conceal it, the air still reeked of the unmistakable scent of “bullshit,” mostly coming from my mouth. It was bullshit because all my questions seemed half-baked. Granted, I did read up on the topic the previous day; I did my homework and researched about MDGs and the rate of maternal death in the country, but that was just light reading when you consider the subject matter - I did legwork that barely scratched the surface of the issue at hand. It was sloppy research, one that hindered me from asking the critical and hard-hitting questions. I knew it, she knew it, and I was left to focus on the napkin on my table and mutter apologies.
However, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. In fact, I think that icy cold interview was the best thing that happened to my writing.
It was like waking up from a long sweet slumber. That venomous and much-needed wake-up call that showed how shitty a journalist I was jolted me from the quicksand trap of mediocrity I was currently stuck in. It was a deadly mix of complacency and overconfidence - a volatile combo that exploded on my face.
I apologized for having come unprepared and proceeded to pay the coffee bill, when she stopped me and told me to sit back down. She said that the subject matter was very complex and it’s understandable that I don’t know it that well. Then, she went on a tirade and lamented on how people don’t seem to read anymore, and how cocky past journalists who interviewed her were as they seem to think they knew everything. I accepted her criticisms whole-heartedly and burned it into my mind, along with the other lessons I learned from that interview: 1.) Never ever come off arrogant; 2.) Know your subject matter 200%, and if you DON’T really understand the subject matter; 3.) Don’t ask stupid questions that would show your ignorance and worse, waste both the interviewer and interviewee’s time.
It was only after getting my ego trampled on when the interview turned around. She told me that she would do me a favor and help me, since the topic is close to her heart and I look genuinely interested to write about it. She also mentioned that I seem like a decent guy who wouldn’t con her (I was just grateful I decided to comb my hair and put on deodorant that day). To cut the long story short, she gave me a list of people I can contact and some leads on where I can get prime information for my article, like going to public hospitals notorious for their appalling treatment of pregnant women. Pretty soon, we were talking about topics like healthcare and pregnancy, in a manner that friends do when catching up with each other. The conversation was so genuine that I couldn’t help liking this person, for her tact and her intent to help. She sent me off with well-wishes and told me “make a kick-ass article and become famous.” I hope I don’t disappoint.
In the end, what was originally a disastrous interview turned out to be one of the best lessons I got, when it comes to being a writer. I may not have gotten the information I need but my interviewer did give me something equally valuable: a much-needed reality check, and renewed drive to excel and work on my flaws. Despite that day’s mishaps, I still feel blessed. After all, it’s not often that you meet your muse in real life.