three months and one day

Today is the three-months-and-one-day-versary of the start of journalism school for me. I think of you, my dear, loyal readers, often, and how I have shared nil of my experiences with you.

I'm sorry. Truly.

In a nutshell, I have good days and I have bad days.

On bad days, I think, this is silly. I can't be a journalist: It's scary to talk to people, and writing is a bitch. I don't want to be a journalist: I don't care about "trends" and won't presume to decide what is "newsworthy."

On good days, I think, this is cool. I get to walk around on beautiful autumn days and talk to interesting people I would never have talked to otherwise.

Writing stories has been the most difficult for me. I don't like it. And I am never satisfied even when I am finished. This is not me being a perfectionist. This is me resisting the part of journalism that requires me to be a pseudo social scientist.

I've discovered that I like reporting and producing sound pieces, like for radio or audio slideshows, best. That's when people can tell their own stories. Don't mistake me. I am still author and editor. But, it's their voices, not mine. And that's what journalism is about I think.