I am the green bean casserole

Looking for this picture made me really hungry...

As with most things, I blame my mother.

She's always been the queen of grammar, scolding innocent passersby for their ignorant misuse of lay and lie. I would never describe her as "subtle;" she used sexual references to teach her eighth grade Catholic class ("'Lay' needs an object. You can only 'lay' someone or something...")

Lately I've been referring to her as "The Tornado." Wherever she goes, whatever she feels or thinks, she whips everyone and everything within arm's length up into her wild tempest of feeling. I've been spinning around in her stormy wake since conception, and I can't get enough... but I digress.

When I had trouble sleeping in high school, she asked me why. I explained that I had so much spinning around in my head: music and feelings and stresses, oh my. And she told me to write it all down. So I did.

Sometimes when I have a stray thought, I like to entertain myself by tracing it back through the conversation in my head, charting how I got to thinking so intently about, say, why green bean casserole has those oniony chips in it.

Suppose I am the green bean casserole right now, sitting at my desk at one of the most highly acclaimed papers in the country. How did I get to this point, why am I writing?

And it all comes back to her. There have been others along the way—teachers and mentors and authors and experiences. But it all started with an overly loud head, a brown lined leather notebook, and my mother.

La Vie En...

So I was stalking my journalism professor the other day and looking at her blog. My favorite teacher is currently in Jordan and Turkey with a group of 20 students on a Middle East journalism dialogue. I was reading the students' blogs too, soaking up all this imagery and living vicariously through their hot summer adventures.

And then today, motivated by a conversation with my dad, I was looking at some Peace Corps information. I was skimming through the photos of these far-off places and looking at the requirements and doing a fancy little tango with the idea of "what if..."

And then I got thinking about Paris next fall and looking up Rosetta Stone (because I fail at French) and thinking about how "exscary" (exciting + scary) it will be to fly someplace even further away, but how amazing it will be to eat pain au chocolate every morning and Nutella crepes and gain 20 pounds.

I tend to think that I've got every second of my life planned out because much of it is. Color-coded with stickers. But the parts that I don't have planned--like what I do after I graduate (Peace Corps, law school, grad school, job?), how I'll manage when I'm abroad, where I'll be in 5 years--fascinate me.

I was looking at all those pictures, all the imagery and beauty of the world and I'm giddy with it. I'm high on beauty. I'm fascinated by the potential and by my opportunities. I'm swimming in this pool of color and sound and glory and it's all so sensual. I want to roll around in it and smother myself with all the beauty that surrounds me. Is that insane? (I don't care).

I see these pictures and hear these stories and can't help but think about everything I haven't experienced yet, everything that can't be planned. I think of all the undiscovered food and music and festivals and cobblestone paths... I think about the smells and the breathtaking views and the people in the world that I have yet to meet. I think of all the beauty I've experienced and the excesses of beauty that I've yet to experience and I'm absolutely giddy with happiness. It's fascinating, this.

I'm giddy with beauty. And it's like I'm seeing the world through acid-spiked glasses. Everything is colorful and overwhelming and quintessentially sublime. La vie en acid. Now isn't that something.

Ventfest: The New Journalism

Ever since I declared myself a journalism major, I've run into the pestering naysayers that genuinely think they are the first people to ever inform me of the fact that the news industry is dying. Thank you, kind sir. But I realize that.

The thing that people don't realize is that the news industry isn't dying at all; it's just changing.

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Cons (Because I like to save the best for last)

Some changes are, admittedly, sad. Big names buying up or dissolving small town publications is sad, and newspapers of all sizes that fizzle out is the worst of all. Ultimately, I'm a huge fan of multiple news sources. The competition means that every journalist has to constantly be on their toes. Everyone is digging for the next big story. And because there is competition, there is no shortage of exposes; no political figure can pay off Rupert Murdoch and avoid having his life story exposed to the public eye. And with smaller newspapers, there really is the potential for the news to serve its purpose and provide readers with the comprehensive information that they need.

With the incorporation of the Internet, there are some benefits to the media (see below). But unfortunately, there are also some major pitfalls. Readers who resort to online methods of news miss out on the reading experience of a hard copy, good-ol'-fashioned newspaper. As one beloved grandma proxy explained, oftentimes she'll read the paper and end up reading a story about, say, Uganda that she wouldn't have clicked open on a website. The Internet is about functionality and speed and instant gratification, which often the news isn't. Reading a printed publication is an enjoyable and ritualistic ordeal. It's a chance to sit with a cup of coffee and reflect on the goings on of the world. And it's sad that people are not only missing out on that (glorious) ritual, but also on the various happenings in Uganda.

Pros

Negativity aside, there are many benefits of multi-media journalism. Firstly, though small time newspapers are fizzling out or being absolved, more and more bloggers are cranking out new methods of news. They are revealing details and contact people on their own, harnessing the power of the Freedom of Information Act (and the power of being annoying) to draw out the real details on people's lives. Their AP style might be for crap, and they may not have consistent verb tense, but they're still providing some sort of news. They are providing that diversity that might otherwise fizzle out with the small publications.

The Internet is also making "breaking news" a term of redundancy. With the use of immediate online publication and updates, and by harnessing the networking power of Facebook and twitter, news is always current and immediate. No more waiting for the next morning's paper. Everything is here and now and journalists are constantly under pressure to have the most comprehensive, up-to-date info on various stories. And that kind of pressure makes for quality news for the consumer.

I mentioned before the vintage appeal of the "good-ol'-fashioned" printed paper. And I genuinely think that it is wonderful. While I was in Boston, I subscribed to the Boston Globe; even if I didn't have opportunity to read it one day (due to 8 a.m.s or some rude cheapskate stealing my paper), it at least smelled nice. But really, the process of reading a paper is thoroughly enjoyable to me. It's a flashback to morning lattes on my back porch with my dad sharing interesting tidbits of news, while my mom did the morning crosswords. I always read the Union-Tribune and the sports pieces by Mark Zieglar, while my dad took the remaining sports stories (which typically disappeared in the bathroom) and his Wall Street Journal.

Random tangent... When I move back to Boston in June, I already plan on renewing my subscription to the Globe. But this morning, I was flipping through Women's Wear Daily and have been thinking about subscribing to it as well. WWD is often more focused on the industry than actual fashion. And I think that it provides a decent example of what I mean when I say that the news needs more diversity. Because WWD is a specialty publication, it falls under that category. Plus, I need to edumacate myself about the world of fashion. I'm hopelessly illiterate. Okay, tangent over.

Lastly (though I'm sure there are other points) is the incredible ability to harness multimedia and use it to complement stories. Though the newspaper industry has been hit hard by the cons listed above, the magazine industry and some noteworthy newspapers have stayed afloat. The key, however, is always to complement.

Unless it is listed as an "online magazine," like glo.com or an "online newspaper," like Huffington Post, content on a publications website SHOULD NOT match that of it's printed form. A website and a print copy should be two separate--and stand alone--items. If there's any particular reason why the magazine industry has fared better than the newspaper, it is because they have perfected their strengths. Reading a physical magazine is a ritual and readers know this. It's necessary for sunbathing and drinking summer cocktails by the pool. Furthermore, if you look on MC's website, you won't find the same content. Our full-length feature stories are often cut short, but the website also has videos, polls, links and quizzes. It has blogs (!) and additional content, as well. Come to think of it, the personality of MC's site is vastly different than its printed personality.

I've actually been blessed to live in two cities--San Diego and Boston--whose papers--The Union-Tribune and The Boston Globe, respectively--are recognized as some of the best in the country.  The U-T site has information about restaurants and weather/tides and local neighborhoods that couldn't possibly fit in the printed paper. And Boston.com has its own stories, boatloads of multimedia content, even its own staff.

For more info on the ways that the Internet might affect organizations (though not specifically news), check out Jeff Howe's video on croudsourcing--a term he coined and wrote a book about. By the way, he's joining Northeastern's Journalism School staff this fall to teach a class called Online Journalism and I can't take it because it interferes with another class I signed up for. But still... wham-bamming awesome. Tangent #2 over.

Then there's the whole nitty-gritty info about social media, which is basically free advertising and helps readers to feel like they are literally there as the news calls come in. From a news standpoint, twitter is amazing, because journalists can brief a story in 140 words before it's even written. The Globe could tweet: "New info on today's front page story. Stay tuned."

As a loosely related side note, notice all the links in this post? That's another thing the Internet does for journalism. Not only as I brain barfing my little heart out, but I'm providing you various opportunities to see my examples. Links do to an article what pictures do for books: They make it pretty and interesting and help people to envision and better grasp my ideas. Snazzy, no?

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I don't really know what I'm getting at. I guess I just hope to point out that my job is not disappearing, thank you very much.  I'm fighting the list of cons (which is conspicuously shorter) by blogging and writing, by working in the industry and starting up my own small-time publication. So go ahead, tell me I can't do something. "Can't" statements have always been more of a dare than a criticism for me, anyway. Just watch me.


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I'ma Let the Dogs Out

Ladies and gents and four-legged friends…

The cat (or dog) is out of the bag. I just sent out an email to various writers, friends and colleagues announcing my new magazine. A while back, I mentioned that I had an idea about what to name it, and I’ve moved forward with that idea. The email is out, the positions are open and I’m set to have a Skype meeting with Northeastern’s Student Involvement Board a week from tomorrow.

I’ve already been working closely with someone on SIB and have cranked out a constitution and bylaws. But then I went ahead and made T-shirts… because that’s how I roll. So, my fellow huskies, be sure to keep your eyes peeled this fall (fingers crossed!) for the first edition of…

Here you go, Daddy. I may have written Ma a poem, but I named a magazine after you (so stop complaining). For those of you readers who aren’t my dad (there are more? Say what??), “woof” has some very deep roots in my family. So yes, we NU students are huskies and huskies woof. But the four letter word (one of the only ones I like) has much more meaning.

When my dad was growing up, he and his buddies used to call “wolf” to find one another. If it sounds silly, give it up; you know you had secret handshakes and the like. Anyway, somehow “wolf” morphed into woof. Even now, nearly half a decade later, it still stuck.

And it’s contagious. As those boys grew up and moved all over the state, woof spread from the core group to siblings, spouses and families. Somewhere in the morphing mix of things, it also became my dad’s nickname. Hence the shout out.

When I am walking around a public place—say, the grocery store—and need to find my mom (I always get lost in the cookie aisle), I’ll “woof,” rather than say “Mom.” After all, in Suburbia like PQ, there are tons of “Moms” in the grocery store.

I woof. And she woofs back. It’s inbred, instinctual. Even 3,000 miles from home, sometimes I hear something like “woof” and have to consciously stop myself from shouting. My childhood friends (especially Bo) are used to woof, and sometimes even use it to get my attention. But people here think I’m a little cuckoo. And there you have it: the real reasoning behind the name.

This magazine is quickly becoming my baby. But I’m thrilled to get the ball rolling. I have my mother’s habit of throwing myself into new and exciting adventures and this is no different. Stomach ulcers are all the rage this season, no?

So yes. Woof Magazine. Out this fall (**insert girly scream**).

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