That's it for the class of '07's blog. Thanks to everyone who read it and, of course, the class of '07 for writing it. The RRJ will begin blogging again in October when the new mastheads are installed.

Until then, if you'd like to keep up on what's happening in journalism, I invite you to plug this file into your RSS reader (use the import function). With it, you'll receive updates from J-Source.ca, Canadian Journalist, Canadian Magazines, Inside the CBC, Media Bistro and a few other blogs I found useful this year. Also included is the RRJ's blog--that way you'll hear from us as soon as we start blogging again with no need to check the page for activity.

Please email me if you'd like some other blogs included on the list.

If you don't have an RSS reader: I've found Google Reader to be pretty handy. The import function is under the settings tab.

Have a nice summer. Take care,

-joe.

Posted by Joe Rayment at 12:08 AM | Permalink

"If any of you happens to see an injustice, you are no longer a spectator, you are a participant. And you have an obligation to do something." June Callwood, 1924-2007

June Callwood died yesterday, and Canada is in mourning. I spoke with June just a few weeks ago, when I was fact-checking the RRJ's story about Sylvia Fraser. I've read her decades-old Reader's Digest articles as research for my own story. June's name has appeared in the RRJ plenty of times--although we closed this blog, it had to been reopened to honour her contributions to our profession, to our country. June, we will remember you as an unconventional, tireless advocate for social justice, a saint, a rebel, and a helluva lady.

Posted by Dana Lacey at 11:36 AM | Permalink

I'm sure I don't have to tell anyone that talking about journalism with your well-meaning but painfully ignorant family can be a nightmare. Over the last eight months alone I've been thrown gems such as, "Don't worry, you'll get a job!" and "Why do you have to fact-check? I'm sure what they said is true" and "Are you sure you have to transcribe everything? Really? Won't that take you a really long time?"

But last weekend I was actually glad when the topic of journalism was brought up. A visitor was talking about an interview she'd done with the Globe and Mail about her work with a medical foundation. The journalist phoned her, as journalists are wont to do, without any warning to conduct an interview. Shortly after, this reporter emailed her with the quotes, allowing her to go back to add to them or tidy them up. "I thought that was great," this guest enthused as my jaw dropped to the floor, "because I sound a lot better this way. When you're put on the spot like that you don't have time to really think through what you want to say."

Yes, but last I heard, the Globe and Mail prided itself on having more journalistic value than OK!, Hello! or any other publication that lets its sources approve or disapprove of what will be in print. That a highly-regarded national newspaper uses this somewhat nefarious method to ensure "accuracy" to its subjects makes me wonder what else our top reporters are doing that would be rebuked in j-school. If you really want to let your sources sound smart, why not send them your questions before the interview and let them approve of the entire story once it's written?

As of today, Ryerson's class of 2007 is finished school. Both issues of the Review are printed, bound, and in our hands. This is the last blog entry until October. Where we go from here and who we will write for is anyone's guess. Good luck, everyone. Don't cheat, steal, plagarize, or let your sources clean up their interviews and you'll be fine.

The Globe article, if you're interested, comes out near the end of the month.

Posted by Angela Kozak at 10:19 AM | Permalink

As a writer, I've lost a good friend today. I first read Kurt Vonnegut's work about 7 or 8 years ago, in my early teenage years. I was given a copy of "Breakfast of Champions" as a birthday present. I fell in love with it. Soon I'd also soaked up the marvelous pages of Slaughter-house Five, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, and Cat's Cradle. I found his humour, his disregard for literary convention, and his crude drawings all completely appealing.

I frequently point to Vonnegut as one of the primarily influences in my desire to be a writer. But his impact goes far beyond that. Looking back, I see how his books imparted ideas of humanism and socialism, relationships, masculinity, and the nature of human flaws.

Like his recurring alter ego character, Kilgore Trout, Vonnegut died at age 84. Considering how deeply his life was touched by the darkness of war and suicide, I'm grateful we had him for so many years. I'm grateful he's leaving so much behind for us.

One of the most memorable Vonnegut quotes, for me, comes from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater or Pearls Before Swine, when the rich yet utterly greedless protagonist Eliot Rosewater is asked to baptise two babies:

"Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies -- 'God damn it, you've got to be kind.'"

Posted by Graham Silnicki at 12:19 AM | Permalink

The one thing that no one seems to be writing about these days is circulation. If you think about it with a clear and un-biased eye, circulation is the most vital part of the journalism process.

You spend your days and nights interviewing a big shot for an 850,000 word article for the New Yorker. You get it edited down to 840,000 words. You fight with your editor and he takes a swing at you, you swing back. When he comes to, he has a change of heart and decides the original 850,000 was perfect. The photos are in, the ads have been placed and everything is ready to roll. Where the circulation crew?? Well you didn't give a shit about them a little while ago so they are on strike. You figure what the hell do they do anyway, screw them. The magazine looks amazing and weighs 100 pounds thanks to your article. Days later, the editorial team starts up on their new issue.

Suddenly the phone is ringing off the hook from angry subscribers, angry distributors and the angry big whig you profiled. Where's the damn magazine? You finally realize that those circulation people are somewhat important. You also realize that the magazine don't mail themselves. Odd! You call the circulation director, ask her back and promise that you'll never take her for granted again. Everyone gets their magazine and the world is spinning once again.

Give your circulation team some respect...and donuts, they work faster when there's donuts!

Posted by Diana Cina at 10:33 AM | Permalink

Reading the Sunday New York Times is pure pleasure. A few months ago I got a call from the Globe and Mail asking me if I would try the NYT for a special eight-week promotion. For roughly $12 per month, why not?

I soon found out that the difference between reading the NYT and any other major Canadian daily is night and day. The NYT is full of international stories from Iceland, Japan, Niger, Zimbabwe, Israel and more. Stories are long and in-depth in coverage, ranging from topics like the durian fruit to Barack Obama to tree planting in Niger. The NYT has faith in its readers' ability to concentrate and understand the many layers and dimensions of any story.

Don't get me wrong. Plenty of great writers at the Globe and Mail and the Toronto Star: Stephanie Nolen, Ian Brown, Michelle Shephard. But the difference is ownership. The NYT is family-owned and reinvests a great chunk of its profit back into the paper. More resources=better stories/diversity of news. It also means people will want to read the paper and the paper itself survives. But this simple formula is seldom replicated in a world of corporate ownership.

I don't always have time to get through the Sunday New York Times. It's a bit like reading a book, but it is worth the effort. This is what a newspaper should be: informed, with a range of perspectives and details about the world we live in--a place to find thoughtful stories, dissenting voices, great writing.

Posted by Meena Nallainathan at 08:49 PM | Permalink

In my web surfing, I came across a wonderful site called Rite Turn Only. It's full of useful commenters who exercise their rights to expression by belittling anyone who doesn't agree with their conservative views.

That's me being politically correct.

I also came across a site called The Canadian. The title's a little less obvious but they're basically the antithesis to Rite Turn Only. The Bizarro superman to their superman, if you will.

The part I don't understand is the bickering between them. One is clearly pro-everything conservative. The other, anti-everything conservative. For some reason, they've taken it upon themselves to dissect each other's news reports and mock the bias in them.

What the fuck? Is this what political groups have come to?

Obviously neither one is unbiased. And obviously neither one is making an attempt to be unbiased. So why go to the trouble of complaining? Unless I was some fat cat, right-wing, Harper supporter, I wouldn't bother looking at Rite Turn Only. And unless I was some holier-than-thou new-ager, I wouldn't be reading The Canadian.

This is exactly what's wrong with political debate in America and it's sad to see it in Canada now. Instead of discussing things, we try to paint everything black and white and then mock the "other." It's like the liberals who point at FoxNews and call it right-wing propaganda. No Shit, Sherlock.

Each side is, for lack of a better expression, preaching to the choir. I don't see the point. The ironic thing is, I really wouldn't be surprised if a right-winger tries to attack me for being too liberal in this blog and a left-winger attacks me for being too conservative. Actually, I hope they do. It'll prove my point.

Posted by Chris Richardson at 01:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It's been floating around out there lately... no, not a ghost, but news of sub-contracting freelance assignments. Ghost writing has made a debut in journalism.

PWAC's Quebec President, Craig Silverman tipped off D. B. Scott about a posting on craigslist. The post described an over-worked freelancer overflowing with ideas who needed to sub-contract out some writing with a promised pay of, get this, a whopping 25-35 cents per word.

D.B. Scott touched on the possible repercussions this would have on the freelance industry. If it's not bad enough already that magazines' freelance rates haven't changed in 30 years (other than a select few including the Walrus) now there's incentive to write for no by-line and half the pay. Why would one freelancer do this to another? As a pool of professionals we need to band together against such things.

And while we're at it, let's band together against unpaid internships, also known as slave labour that is expected to be performed by eager recent graduates with heavy debt-loads on their shoulders. I suppose that is for another blog.

Posted by Rachel Hahn at 12:06 PM | Permalink

Earlier this week, cbc.ca and the Toronto Star reported The Washington Post will pull its correspondent from Canada this summer. The Post is the last in a line of U.S. print publications that have made the decision that a flesh-and-blood reporter based in Canada is no longer necessary. The L.A. Times, The Wall Street Journal, the Chicago Tribune and The New York Times have all closed their Canadian offices over the last few years. The only American reporters left on the Canadian beat are from wire services -- AP, Bloomberg and Dow Jones among them. Reuters also maintains a Canadian bureau, but then again, Reuters has a full-time reporter based in the virutal world Second Life so I'd hope the Canadian bureau remains.

In the cbc.ca article, David Hoffman, manager of foreign news for the Post said that in "the world we live in now" it's not so important where reporters are based, but what they do. Sure, technology makes a lot of things a helluva lot quicker and more accessible, but there is no replacement for the reporter on the scene. Like it or not, our relationship with our closest neighbour is the most important one we've got, and without these bureaus, Canadian news will make it into U.S. papers much less often, decreasing the level of understanding of Canadian culture even further.

Posted by Regan Ray at 10:59 AM | Permalink

If you want to read other people's excellent magazine work, check out:

http://www.magazine.org/Editorial/National_Magazine_Awards/Winners_and_Finalists/

Unlike its Canadian counterpart, the American site for National Magazine Award winners has links to winning pieces.

Maybe if we want to improve the quality of writing in this country, we should make it more accessible for public consumption, so that people can read and debate about written words more.

Right now, many of the mags here don't even have their content online, let alone award winners. Canadian publications should really make an effort to get online, and promote their writers' work. If more people read magazines, we would be held to higher standards, and this form of publication may not be as quick to drop into unimportance.

Posted by Julia Belluz at 01:08 PM | Permalink

I know a lot of my colleagues have been inundating this media blog with boohoos and reminiscence in the past couple of weeks, so I thought I'd give whoever reads this a well deserved break. Future Jobs? Hell, I don't even know where I'm sleeping tomorrow morning (Live in the now and all that). Plus, the unemployment rate for disabled people is only 44% so I have nothing to worry about.

I started this year with disability media (shameless plug) so it's only natural that I end with it. This month's Some-Able-Bodied-People-Should-be-Shot moment came courtesy of ABC's Dancing with the Stars.

The commercial went like this:
A boxer, A 90210 Star, An ice skater...
And one celebrity, with the ultimate dancing challenge!!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? WHAT KINDA BIAS IS THAT! But I get it, people's synapses don't really fire when it comes to disability, so the average wage-slave viewer looks at that and goes, "Oh I'm watching that for sure! I gotta find out how an amputee could possibly dance because abc's gone and thrown me for a loop." Really, it's brilliant marketing and I don't blame most people for instinctively thinking that. My real problem is with the entertainment media who've interviewed Ms. Mills. Each interview, sometimes by the same person of repeated occasions, goes like this:
"So Heather, your doing the (insert dance here) this week. Are you sure the leg will hold up?"
If I was her, I'd take my leg off and beat his head in with it.
Then, when she inevitably pulls it off, they're all like, "That was amazing, how did you do it?" Obviously, these guys aren't even remotely aware of the wonders of adaptive technology. I once saw her do a cartwheel and they replayed this "impossible feat of wonder and amazement" in slow motion. It's not like she's any better, she feeds into their witless banter without rejecting it. Sure she's hot, but it's not like she's doing anything special. If you want to see some really amazing dancers with disabilities, check these breakers out:

Yeah, Mills isn't exactly showing all the disabled population has to offer. Instead of telling her interviewers where to stick it, her weak, "I don't know, I'm just fortunate," response actually contributes to the discourse and intensifies existing ignorant, able-ist attitudes. However, Mills on Dancing with the Stars does further prove the fickleness of the American Media. It wasn't long ago that the press was completely against her--blaming her for causing the breakup of her marriage to "Dudley Do-no-wrong" the much loved and revered Paul McCartney, but leave it to a few cha-chas and jives, and all is forgiven, with all faith restored, as a walking narrative stereotype--The Champutee!

EXTRA CREDIT: If you want to see a sexy amputee, who isn't afraid to blow away the entire able-bodied population, (because who among us hasn't thought genocide is the answer once and a while?) try, Cherry--The smokin' hot stripper with a rocket-launcher prosthetic--in Robert Rodriguez's half of Grindhouse, "Planet Terror". The film opens tomorrow (April 6). It combines sex and violence in a way almost on par with a rousing game of Stripper Dodgeball--and is probably just as liberating.

It's been fun, but now I'm off to grow-up and join real-life. It certainly beats pissing away more money at grad school out of fear of leaving this almost convincing simulation.

Peace & Carrots,
Aaron Broverman

Posted by Aaron Broverman at 03:45 AM | Permalink

Masthead Online announced yesterday that the founders of Shameless Magazine - and Ryerson journalism grads - Melinda Mattos and Nicole Cohen have found a replacement editor. Shameless, a progressive magazine for teen girls, started as a final year magazine prototype project at Ryerson and grew from there (It seems fitting that this Shamess news should come up now, as our own final-year prototype projects are nearly due).

Anyway, the girls, who noted on Shameless website, "Melinda and Nicole are a wee bit tired after three years of running Shameless and will be handing the editorial reins, " announced months ago that they would be stepping down as editors, and moving into an advisory role. They will be welcoming in their replacement at their launch party on April 21.

Ryerson hearts should swell with pride. Their replacement is another Ryerson journalism grad! Megan Griffith-Greene, editor of the Spring 2004 edition and founding editor and designer of The New Pollution new music review will be taking over soon.

In short, hurrah for Ryerson!

Posted by Paige Magarrey at 10:14 AM | Permalink

The anxiety and neurosis Leah Collins blogged about yesterday usually rests somewhere around my windpipe when I have an assignment due.

Every letter I type acts like a tiny little weight added to my neck/chest. My body goes into an evolutionarily correct 'flight' response and the usual, catalogued symptoms result: sweaty palms, pacing, muttering, angry outbursts. It's all so so usual.

Funny thing is though, what follows is almost never my best work. And by almost never I mean never ever.

Usually, when I decide that it's all a wash, when I write while damning every person and subject involved to hell, when I decide to ignore all the good things I've learned about writing, things come together. Or when I realize that my true calling is to the military or the ministry or the nap.

Earnest Hillen cast a few pearls before us yesterday. Here's one of them, a quote from Arnold Bennett who, since he was scorned by Virginia Woolf, I've never read: "It's no use sighing, 'I wish I were a better writer.' You must simply feel more deeply and think more clearly."

Now the thing about thinking clearly is it requires oxygen. And what with the little weights, the pacing, the vicious swearing well, there's not enough oxygen to keep my feet warm, let alone my brain functioning.

So, although I imagine the jittery feeling just this side of excitement many writers describe as neurosis or anxiety is helpful to them, I do what I can to nip the feeling in the bud in order to continue feeling other things. Like my toes.

I try laughing.

More.

Sometimes, although I hear it is evidence of a personality unfit for the field, I completely lose it. Hell yeah, I cry. Usually while watching the Hour. Then I sleep.

Freelance Freedom, here I come. Tissues, check. Sleeping mask, check. Willingness to let maniacal laughter fly in small coffee shop, check.

Posted by Amy Packwood at 11:24 AM | Permalink

neu-rot-ic[noo-rot-ik, nyoo-]

-adjective

1. of, pertaining to, or characteristic of neurosis--a functional disorder in which feelings of anxiety, obsessional thoughts, compulsive acts, and physical complaints without objective evidence of disease, in various degrees and patterns, dominate the personality. A relatively mild personality disorder typified by excessive anxiety or indecision and a degree of social or interpersonal maladjustment.

-noun

2. a neurotic person.

3. a journalist.

You'll only find two out of three of those definitions in Webster's. Still, there might be a smidge of evidence that some jittery cub reporter's portrait should be added to the entry.

A snapshot of me wearing a fedora and press pass would be an ok fit. I propose the definition, first of all, because of experience.

1. Feelings of anxiety? Check. Any time I've got an assignment. So much to prove, so little time.

2. Obsessional thoughts? Check. But it's all in the name of thorough research.

3. A degree of social or interpersonal maladjustment? Check. Awkward adolescence aside, grilling complete strangers isn't without a certain social discomfort.

4. Physical complaints without objective evidence of disease? I haven't stayed home with a sudden case of avian flu yet, but hey, I'm still new at this.

Mind you, I have other evidence besides my own minor hang-ups to show the dictionary editors.

The final paragraphs of this recent CJR Daily article (which, for those RRJ-ers reading, may prove as good blog fodder for those of you reflecting on the drinking habits adopted during your university careers) are notable:

Psychologists have shown that neurotics can make good journalists when they project their inner doubts and dissatisfactions onto the world. This is the energy behind investigative reporting and the source of journalism's vaunted distrust of power, the argument goes. "Rage is the only quality which has kept me, or anybody I have ever studied, writing columns for newspapers," Breslin says.

For good or ill, journalism and neurosis may be inextricably caught up together, tangled in the timeless conundrum of what comes first. Does the profession break talented people with steady pressure, severe constraints, and public censure for missteps? Or does it attract broken talent who seek unstable schedules, extreme experiences, and the megalomaniacal pleasure of their name in print?

It's unclear from the article whether the study in question is the one that's the focus of the piece or another such as this one. However, the sentiment is something I've been encountering for years as a student journalist.

The first I remember hearing it was years back, during my wide-eyed student press days, while attending a west-coast CUP conference. The lecturer, a Canwest movie critic, was reflecting on her career and said that all journalists were neurotics. The phrase was quickly circled in my notebook, highlighted out of equal parts horror and consolation. Over the years, it became a note I took several more times during lectures--up until this morning's talk by Ernest Hillen in our magazine writing class.

I'd like to (rather uncharacteristically) spin neurosis as a positive for the profession. Much like the CJR quote suggests, a natural tendency for dissatisfaction leads to important journalistic traits. When projected on the world around her, the journalist/neurotic becomes a tireless questioner of the powers that be. And when those tendencies towards dissatisfaction are applied personally, the neurotic/journalist is perhaps motivated to perform to her fullest potential.

Now if only this obsessive hand-washing habit of mine wouldn't keep me from staying on deadline.

Posted by Leah Collins at 04:20 AM | Permalink

In the spirit of April Fool's let's discuss one of the greatest hoaxes of our time: the radio broadcast of H.G. Wells' classic War of the Worlds. Directed by Orson Welles, and aired on Oct. 30, 1938 by CBS, the one-hour program caused widespread panic. The audience, most notably in New Jersey and New York, largely believed the news-style bulletins about alien invasions to be real. Though opening credits kicked off the show, many either missed or ignored them. Millions, filled with anxiety over the approaching war, were all too ready to believe anything. And, despite (and because of) all the public outcry, Welles was launched to fame. Now we just have unbelievable broadcast that are all too real, and audiences that are all too numb to reaction. Our newscasters, though, are still famous. But, enough of my sweeping connections...

Here's an excerpt from the broadcast:

ANNOUNCER
The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air in "The War of the Worlds" by H. G. Wells.
(MUSIC: MERCURY THEATRE MUSICAL THEME)
ANNOUNCER
Ladies and gentlemen, the director of the Mercury Theatre and star of these broadcasts, Orson Welles.
ORSON WELLES
We know now that in the early years of the twentieth century this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man's, and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water.
With infinite complacence people went to and fro over the earth about their little affairs, serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small, spinning fragment of solar driftwood which, by chance or design, man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space.
Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us.
In the thirty-ninth year of the twentieth century came the great disillusionment. It was near the end of October. Business was better. The war scare was over. More men were back at work. Sales were picking up. On this particular evening, October 30th, the Crosley service estimated that thirty-two million people were listening in on radios.

You can check out the full script here:

And listen to the broadcast here:

Enjoy!

Posted by Lauren McKeon at 12:58 PM | Permalink