Working Thoughts; or, ten things I love about you...
...Boston Globe.
I've been working for the Globe (as a correspondent, not a reporter; the pay rate is high enough that this is a viable, though not lucrative, medium to long term decision. I can pay my bills and squirrel away a little, as well as eat an unbudgeted-for sandwich every now and again. This is actually a better financial place than I expected to be in, and makes me wealthy among my peers. I love recessions) for about six weeks. The surrealism has yet to fully wear off, I still have cold-sweat nightmares about getting called into 'the office' and being fired by editors who tell me how disappointed they are with me in between fits of laughter, I've deferred my loans and don't have a regular paycheck. It's far from perfect. But there's enough about it to like that I kind of want to run down some of it. To wit:
1. It's exactly, precisely the kind of journalism I want to be writing. I was initially a little nervous when I was hired, because the editors said they were impressed with my hard-news skills and wanted me because they already had a lot of good features people. I thought that meant they weren't looking for anything other than blow-by-blow meeting coverage, which can be done by a robot, a dog or the AP. But so far every one of my suggestions for rounding and deepening stories has not only been accepted, but welcomed. The publication schedule over in West means I have time to pursue the kind of news I want to write, and on more than one occasion they've made room for longer versions of my stories online rather than cutting stuff out. I've pitched features and enjoyed writing them, and I will continue to do so in the future because they pay so well, but in truth the 'hard-news' I've been writing at the Globe is more rich and satisfying than features I've written anywhere else.
2. It's exactly, precisely the kind of newspaper I want to write for. I'm not just talking size and prestige here, though that helps in far more ways than just stroking the old ego. I mean an organization that sees itself as old, venerable and permanent (whatever might be the actuality if its paymasters decide they'd rather have Christmas bonuses than another Pulitzer) attracts and cultivates people at every operational level who want to contribute to that reputation with quality work. This includes editors, and the editors I've had at the Globe are some of the savviest and most sensitive I've ever had, with the exception of one extremely brilliant professor I had last year. I'm probably in the vast minority of writers who actually LIKES having an editor. They're like a paid Devil's Advocate, and like all devil's advocates they make you much better if you use them instead of resenting them. When all the devil's advocates are on the same page, it forces you to identify what in your writing is really good (as opposed to what in your writing you really like) as well as which avenues of inquiry really aid understanding instead of just impressing readers with how many questions you ask. I've written the best work of my life in these six weeks, and those editors are a big part of it. They're not perfect, and I wish they would allow more lightness and narrative in my writing. But they're also very approachable and susceptible to molding, and I'm sure once we've worked together longer we're going to meet more in the middle.
3. I am beginning to like working from home. At first, I really wasn't a fan of this. One of my favorite things about being a journalist was always being in newsrooms. There's an energy in a good newsroom that just isn't present anywhere else. But let's face it, even if mainstream media isn't on a respirator, there's really no need for old-style newsrooms in the future. They're probably going to be scaled back, even if they don't die out. Learning at an early phase in my career to NOT rely on a newsroom to motivate me is probably no bad thing. And for someone who hates, hates, hates waking up early as much as myself, working from home is a godsend. I can wake up five minutes before a phone interview, I can work until 1 am if I want to, and if I'm talking to a Republican I don't have to wear pants. What more do you need? Plus, the other great source of journalistic energy is interacting with the public, either while chasing a story or just while pounding pavement, and that's also easier if there's no intermediate newsroom-step between your house and the world where news is made. Granted, if I get the promotion I want I'll be back in a newsroom, and I'm sure I'll adjust and flourish. But at least I know now wherever my career takes me I can be my own boss effectively.
4. Being grounded. I remember other 'careers' I thought I wanted, where I'd come home and dread going to work the next day, or feel like I had to convince a skeptical boss or manager that I was capable of doing work vastly beneath me while hiding my true talents and capabilities, because that was what you did in that entry-level place while you were 'paying your dues.' How is wasting your life a due? Who said that? The compromises I used to make don't even make any sense to me anymore. Being in a place where the best work I can do is accepted, welcomed and appreciated - where I have the ability to advance, where I have supervisors who aren't threatened by my intelligence and who regularly tell me I did a good job - I can't imagine what it's like for people who don't have this. I have 99 problems, but THIS is just so, so good right now. And best part? At the end of the day, I'm done. No more feeling like now I have to work on what I REALLY want to do, no more trying to shove a real life into the interstices of a life some supervisor has foisted upon me. I have my real life all day, and when it's done I can do...whatever I want. I can read books I haven't read in years. I can practice my knitting, or exercise, or try out new hobbies I have put on the 'someday' list for years (pottery painting? yes!), I can be the kind of friend and girlfriend I've always wanted to be - one who listens without needing to one-up stories of frustration, one who is fully present when she promises to be, one who is fulfilled on her own without needing others to make her feel better about her choices. And on days like this, when the work is done and the weather is unpleasant, I can just sit and drink hot chocolate and post on livejournal.
Who knows what next year will bring? The Globe could close. Something seismic (e-paper) could rock the industry, and lead to systemic changes. I could get tired of Boston, and listen to the little voice in the back of my head that's telling me to put down roots in the country. But whatever happens, thank you unnamed deity (flying spaghetti monster) for these six weeks, however long they last. Thank you for at least a little window of time where I feel like I've done it, and it is so so good. Thank you for letting me shake the hands of senators and ceos, and say, "Sarah Thomas, Boston Globe" and watch them all sit up a little straighter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I've been working for the Globe (as a correspondent, not a reporter; the pay rate is high enough that this is a viable, though not lucrative, medium to long term decision. I can pay my bills and squirrel away a little, as well as eat an unbudgeted-for sandwich every now and again. This is actually a better financial place than I expected to be in, and makes me wealthy among my peers. I love recessions) for about six weeks. The surrealism has yet to fully wear off, I still have cold-sweat nightmares about getting called into 'the office' and being fired by editors who tell me how disappointed they are with me in between fits of laughter, I've deferred my loans and don't have a regular paycheck. It's far from perfect. But there's enough about it to like that I kind of want to run down some of it. To wit:
1. It's exactly, precisely the kind of journalism I want to be writing. I was initially a little nervous when I was hired, because the editors said they were impressed with my hard-news skills and wanted me because they already had a lot of good features people. I thought that meant they weren't looking for anything other than blow-by-blow meeting coverage, which can be done by a robot, a dog or the AP. But so far every one of my suggestions for rounding and deepening stories has not only been accepted, but welcomed. The publication schedule over in West means I have time to pursue the kind of news I want to write, and on more than one occasion they've made room for longer versions of my stories online rather than cutting stuff out. I've pitched features and enjoyed writing them, and I will continue to do so in the future because they pay so well, but in truth the 'hard-news' I've been writing at the Globe is more rich and satisfying than features I've written anywhere else.
2. It's exactly, precisely the kind of newspaper I want to write for. I'm not just talking size and prestige here, though that helps in far more ways than just stroking the old ego. I mean an organization that sees itself as old, venerable and permanent (whatever might be the actuality if its paymasters decide they'd rather have Christmas bonuses than another Pulitzer) attracts and cultivates people at every operational level who want to contribute to that reputation with quality work. This includes editors, and the editors I've had at the Globe are some of the savviest and most sensitive I've ever had, with the exception of one extremely brilliant professor I had last year. I'm probably in the vast minority of writers who actually LIKES having an editor. They're like a paid Devil's Advocate, and like all devil's advocates they make you much better if you use them instead of resenting them. When all the devil's advocates are on the same page, it forces you to identify what in your writing is really good (as opposed to what in your writing you really like) as well as which avenues of inquiry really aid understanding instead of just impressing readers with how many questions you ask. I've written the best work of my life in these six weeks, and those editors are a big part of it. They're not perfect, and I wish they would allow more lightness and narrative in my writing. But they're also very approachable and susceptible to molding, and I'm sure once we've worked together longer we're going to meet more in the middle.
3. I am beginning to like working from home. At first, I really wasn't a fan of this. One of my favorite things about being a journalist was always being in newsrooms. There's an energy in a good newsroom that just isn't present anywhere else. But let's face it, even if mainstream media isn't on a respirator, there's really no need for old-style newsrooms in the future. They're probably going to be scaled back, even if they don't die out. Learning at an early phase in my career to NOT rely on a newsroom to motivate me is probably no bad thing. And for someone who hates, hates, hates waking up early as much as myself, working from home is a godsend. I can wake up five minutes before a phone interview, I can work until 1 am if I want to, and if I'm talking to a Republican I don't have to wear pants. What more do you need? Plus, the other great source of journalistic energy is interacting with the public, either while chasing a story or just while pounding pavement, and that's also easier if there's no intermediate newsroom-step between your house and the world where news is made. Granted, if I get the promotion I want I'll be back in a newsroom, and I'm sure I'll adjust and flourish. But at least I know now wherever my career takes me I can be my own boss effectively.
4. Being grounded. I remember other 'careers' I thought I wanted, where I'd come home and dread going to work the next day, or feel like I had to convince a skeptical boss or manager that I was capable of doing work vastly beneath me while hiding my true talents and capabilities, because that was what you did in that entry-level place while you were 'paying your dues.' How is wasting your life a due? Who said that? The compromises I used to make don't even make any sense to me anymore. Being in a place where the best work I can do is accepted, welcomed and appreciated - where I have the ability to advance, where I have supervisors who aren't threatened by my intelligence and who regularly tell me I did a good job - I can't imagine what it's like for people who don't have this. I have 99 problems, but THIS is just so, so good right now. And best part? At the end of the day, I'm done. No more feeling like now I have to work on what I REALLY want to do, no more trying to shove a real life into the interstices of a life some supervisor has foisted upon me. I have my real life all day, and when it's done I can do...whatever I want. I can read books I haven't read in years. I can practice my knitting, or exercise, or try out new hobbies I have put on the 'someday' list for years (pottery painting? yes!), I can be the kind of friend and girlfriend I've always wanted to be - one who listens without needing to one-up stories of frustration, one who is fully present when she promises to be, one who is fulfilled on her own without needing others to make her feel better about her choices. And on days like this, when the work is done and the weather is unpleasant, I can just sit and drink hot chocolate and post on livejournal.
Who knows what next year will bring? The Globe could close. Something seismic (e-paper) could rock the industry, and lead to systemic changes. I could get tired of Boston, and listen to the little voice in the back of my head that's telling me to put down roots in the country. But whatever happens, thank you unnamed deity (flying spaghetti monster) for these six weeks, however long they last. Thank you for at least a little window of time where I feel like I've done it, and it is so so good. Thank you for letting me shake the hands of senators and ceos, and say, "Sarah Thomas, Boston Globe" and watch them all sit up a little straighter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.