I know plenty of people who think writing, in any form, is easy. Of course, these people have never written for a living.
The title of this blog is the best advice I ever got from an editor. It came about one day when we were at a Press Club meeting. (These meetings consisted of a group of us gathering in a smoky bar and drinking a lot every Thursday.) I admitted that I often sat, stumped, for a lede to come to me. It was then explained to me that I was overthinking things. Stop thinking so much, he told me, and just write. Then go back and fix it up.
I've been rolling ever since. I tried to pass along that little nugget at the last place I worked, but of course, it fell on deaf ears. Self-improvement wasn't a priority there, which is one big reason I left.
Now I've applied that same advice to a book I'm working on. I put together a loose outline, then go. I'm having more luck this time, too. Before, I tried to make sure I followed an outline closely and revised as I went. Now I know to just write the damn thing, then go back and self-edit.
It makes writing a little bit easier.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Time management
One of my biggest pet peeves probably only applies to me or, at the very least, to a handful of other people. It's my internal clock.
It's not right.
When left to nature, I will stay up till 4 or 5 in the morning before I finally get to sleep. I'll wake up between noon and 1. I've been this way as long as I can remember. Summer breaks were spent watching old movies all night. Getting up at noon gave me plenty of time for riding my bike or playing basketball.
When I chose a career, a large part of the draw was an abnormal schedule, with lots of night work. No 8 to 5 for me. That has never appealed to me.
Imagine my surprise when the first editor I worked for wanted everyone at their desk at 8 a.m. Of course, this same guy wanted us to stay in our seats. If we weren't in the office, he assumed we were shopping at the mall or having fun at an afternoon ballgame. Forget trying to hang out at City Hall or someplace chatting people up.
I soon discovered this is how journalism is today unless you work a night shift on the copy desk. I've yet to meet an editor who truly believes a reporter can come to work at noon and get a full day's work finished. I disagree and wanted to give it a shot. I was turned down.
My thinking was this: I come in and spend the afternoon talking to officials, attending those relentless newsroom meetings and answering my phone and e-mails, etc. Then I could reach actual human beings, residents, after hours. Most people commute. They aren't home until 6 in the evening or so. And all I had for these people were home numbers. No one wanted me to call them at work, except an occasional public official or stay-at-home mom.
All this would require is for me to work ahead enough to make sure I didn't miss any deadlines. That wasn't a problem for me. As it was, the latest an editor ever let anyone stroll in was 10 in the morning.
The only option I was offered for working at night was switching to the copy desk, which I eventually did, as I was tired of being a zombie. I hate that. In fact, the subject of "dumping" people on the desk is a whole 'nother blog.
I just wish a sleep disorder had been treated with the same respect as a co-worker who was legally blind and unable to drive at night. He was unable to cover meetings and the rest of us had to cover for him. I didn't even need anyone to cover for me; I know I could have done my job just fine.
It's not right.
When left to nature, I will stay up till 4 or 5 in the morning before I finally get to sleep. I'll wake up between noon and 1. I've been this way as long as I can remember. Summer breaks were spent watching old movies all night. Getting up at noon gave me plenty of time for riding my bike or playing basketball.
When I chose a career, a large part of the draw was an abnormal schedule, with lots of night work. No 8 to 5 for me. That has never appealed to me.
Imagine my surprise when the first editor I worked for wanted everyone at their desk at 8 a.m. Of course, this same guy wanted us to stay in our seats. If we weren't in the office, he assumed we were shopping at the mall or having fun at an afternoon ballgame. Forget trying to hang out at City Hall or someplace chatting people up.
I soon discovered this is how journalism is today unless you work a night shift on the copy desk. I've yet to meet an editor who truly believes a reporter can come to work at noon and get a full day's work finished. I disagree and wanted to give it a shot. I was turned down.
My thinking was this: I come in and spend the afternoon talking to officials, attending those relentless newsroom meetings and answering my phone and e-mails, etc. Then I could reach actual human beings, residents, after hours. Most people commute. They aren't home until 6 in the evening or so. And all I had for these people were home numbers. No one wanted me to call them at work, except an occasional public official or stay-at-home mom.
All this would require is for me to work ahead enough to make sure I didn't miss any deadlines. That wasn't a problem for me. As it was, the latest an editor ever let anyone stroll in was 10 in the morning.
The only option I was offered for working at night was switching to the copy desk, which I eventually did, as I was tired of being a zombie. I hate that. In fact, the subject of "dumping" people on the desk is a whole 'nother blog.
I just wish a sleep disorder had been treated with the same respect as a co-worker who was legally blind and unable to drive at night. He was unable to cover meetings and the rest of us had to cover for him. I didn't even need anyone to cover for me; I know I could have done my job just fine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)