The Vine: July 16, 2002
Dear Sars,
As a former journalist who also quickly realized she’d never make a stellar reporter, I’ve got two bits of wisdom for “Probably Not Lois Lane,” who’s trying to figure out whether to start a journalism career but is unsure of reporting.
Number One: A career in journalism does not necessarily mean “you must be a reporter.” While being a reporter certainly gets you started and gets you learning, you can get started and get learning in a variety of ways. If you have any artistic/design talent, you can get into page layout and design, which is interesting and fun in its own way. Or go into graphic arts and get a job drawing illustrations, maps, and other artwork that can’t be done by a photographer. Skilled with words/grammar? Become a copy editor or a proofreader. Heck, there’s even obituary page work, which is kind of cool in a morbidly odd way. And there’s the printing side of newspapers, which doesn’t require any reporting knowledge at all and is relying more and more on computers these days.
And I haven’t even covered the many opportunities that broadcasting journalism and public relations fields are sure to offer. I don’t know those fields, but I’m sure a little research will uncover scads of jobs that mean little to no reporting.
Number Two: Think carefully about going into journalism for the money. Because it’s not really there. For the amount of work they do and the crazy hours they do it in, reporters starting out make very little (we’re talking $20,000 or less a year at small hometown papers, and only marginally more in bigger markets), and salaries tend to stay low, even with regular raises. Copy editors and page designers tend to make more than reporters, and people with those skills are in demand at newspapers across the country. I know, because I was a page designer/copy editor and never lacked for a job. However, even those people aren’t guaranteed scads of dough.
I mention the money primarily because going from an IT job to a journalism job might prove to be a rude awakening. Money is not the reason to go into journalism; you’ve either got to love the business, or you’ve got to be truly warped. Or both.
Regardless, don’t rule out journalism just because you think you wouldn’t make a good reporter. All sorts of options exist in newspaper work; you’ve just got to dig them out.
Once A Journalist, Always A Journalist
Dear Sars:
I am writing regarding your response to Law Talkin’ Guy. I am also a lawyer, and I have taught legal writing and worked for an appeals court, so I have seen some pretty horrible writing — some of which made me wonder how the author made it through law school. There really is not enough focus on writing in law school, but that’s a subject for another day.
If Law Talkin’ Guy’s problems are proper grammar and usage, I have nothing to add to your recommendations. However, legal writing follows certain formats that are often not similar to non-legal writing techniques. I recommend a book called Effective Legal Writing by Gertrude Block. It is published by the Foundation Press and contains excellent information on legal usage, style, and analysis, as well as grammar. I don’t know if it is still in print. If not, he should check out a university bookstore and find out which legal writing books are being used in the law school writing course.
He might also consider asking someone whose writing he thinks is good to review his writing and offer him some assistance. I have found that the best way to learn to write well is to write and have someone critique (in a constructive way) my writing.
Crescent City Lawyer
Dear Crescent,
It’s still in print, but in a limited run; Amazon says they only have one copy left (?), so he might try B&N’s website.
Sars,
This isn’t a huge, deep question, but I was hoping I could tap your opinion as a smoker. I will admit right off that I hate smoke — breathing it in too much can literally make me vomit and get headaches.
Last year I went to a restaurant with a relatively new friend who smokes. When they asked if we’d like to sit in smoking or non-smoking, I automatically said non and then turned to him for confirmation, which he gave, BUT at our table he said to me that we should take turns. That is, sit in smoking every other time we went out to eat. I pointed out to him that a smoker can go to the bar for a cigarette if he can’t get through a meal without one, but that smoke while you’re eating can be pretty noxious if you don’t smoke and a non-smoker can’t very well take breaks to go to the non-smoking section to breathe periodically throughout the meal. He didn’t see the logic and thought I was being totally unreasonable.
The same friend was visiting another time and went outside to smoke periodically throughout the evening, and I appreciated the fact that he respected my request not to smoke in my house. But when I went outside the next morning I found a pile of half-smoked butts ground into my front step.
I thought that there are sort of unwritten rules that most smokers who interact with non-smokers follow, and this was the first time I’d seen anything to contradict this impression. So my questions are, is it unreasonable of me to expect to sit in non-smoking, even when I’m out with a smoker? And is it too demanding of me to expect guests to dispose of butts without littering my step? I have to admit I hadn’t thought to put anything out to put the butts in and that wasn’t very thoughtful of me as a host, but I do have a couple of other smoking friends that had been over and they’d just put their butts in something handy until they could toss them in the garbage. And they smoke around me when we’re outside, I just stand upwind and it’s no problem. If I don’t breathe it it doesn’t bother me.
The fellow and I found a number of basic differences of opinion, drifted apart, and aren’t friends anymore. Oh, and smoking is now against the law in all restaurants and bars in the city I live (sorry, and for the record I argued publicly on radio that places with separately-ventilated sections should be allowed to have smoking, but YAY no stinking after coming home from a bar!), but I’m still interested in your response for when I’m out of town.
I Only Smoke When It Comes Out My Ears
Dear Ears,
No, it’s not unreasonable, and no, it’s not too demanding.
Smokers who socialize with non-smokers must expect to make certain teeny tiny sacrifices for their friends’ comfort — not just because smoking etiquette demands it, but because that’s what friends do. Sitting in non-smoking is not what I would call a hardship. Would I like to light up right after they clear the meal and have a smoke with my coffee? Sure, but that’s not the world we live in. Can a non-smoker choose whether to breathe in the smoking section? No, and that’s basic physics. Case closed.
And as far as not picking up butts goes, that’s just rude. Flick it into a storm drain. Field-strip it and throw the butts out inside. If you wouldn’t leave any other garbage on your friend’s lawn, don’t leave butts there either.
It’s a courtesy issue, and I’ll tell you, ninety-five percent of smokers don’t make an issue of these things. Ninety-five percent of us sit quietly in non-smoking because it’s only one damn hour out of our lives, pick up after ourselves, stand downwind of non-smokers on the street, and so on. It’s like holding a door for someone — you just do it. But of course the five percent with the senses of entitlement have to make the rest of us look bad.
Smoke makes you physically ill. If your friend won’t make the minimum effort to work around that, he’s out of line.
[7/16/02]
Tags: etiquette grammar workplace
