Forays into Freelancing
A good but unproductive week, all around. I sent off a bunch of emails first thing Monday morning to prospective papers that might be interested in an offbeat story about a refugee running for Liberian president. A day – and many, many no’s – later, the South China Morning Post agreed to take 500 words, plus photos. The Observer and the Washington Times each gave me an assignment as well. Unbelieveable!
Even by late Monday, when no one was biting and several papers had sent no’s, I was feeling incredibly encouraged because a) editors had bothered to respond and b) some responded with compliments, praising my pitch or letting me know they thought I was a strong writer, they just weren’t interested in this off-the-wall story.
I essentially floated home from the Internet café. I have worried so much about whether I would be able to make it as a freelancer, whether I would be able to write a pitch that would convince editors via email that I had the goods not only to write a story but deliver it in impressive shape. I also worried that no one would be interested in the kinds of stories that I’m interested in. Turns out there’s at least one who finds the quirky side of life worth covering!
For the first time since I arrived, I thought seriously about staying, about being able to really make a go of it. I worked from home the entire day, honing the story, making phone calls and envisioning a life in East Africa, with a phone and a fax machine and an ability to wake up every day and ask myself: What do I want to do today? For the first time I thought about what life would be like without the Star!
For several days I’ve had a shiny, happy feeling like I could really make a go of this, like I could become really comfortable and find the work very enjoyable. I felt particularly satisfied after getting an email from Bill asking for a piece on problems with Ghana’s fishing stocks and realizing I could ignore the ho-hum request if I chose. I think that has been my main problem with journalism, especially journalism at the Star: having to bend to someone else’s desires, having to watch as they edit the life out of your piece or make requests that make no sense, or ask the impossible or the implausible. It’s so nice to just go out, find something interesting, recognize it as interesting and write it in a way that keeps you interested and nets some editors as well.
What this will mean for my career generally is anyone’s guess. I’ve never known a Star employee to go off on a leave and freelance for other publications, so I have no idea whether this will be better for me or whether I’ll be able to return to an office environment.
The actual job is pretty brutal. I arranged to have Neora take Friday off so she could work on the story from home. She also thought she had malaria, so I thought it would be an easy way to kill two birds with one stone, especially since she lives about four hours from Accra. I gave her all my notes and explained the concept of melding them together for a story. What she turned in barely qualified as a story, though. It was four pages of what I would consider a book report. There wasn’t one quote, and the only source mentioned was the WAJU officer. Two of the six girls we interviewed were mentioned. The interviews I conducted without her weren’t mentioned. And entire sections of the reports we were supposed to be using as background were lifted word for word.
We spent two hours sitting down and writing. I mostly did the writing, she did a lot of shuffling papers pretending to be looking for quotes or facts or figures. I think she is eager to learn, but overwhelmed by the process. I think I’m frustrated by her lack of understanding of what makes a decent media story. She has no points of reference, no examples of good writing and no real desire to go out there and find them. I’m not sure what she would do if I suggested she go out and buy a copy of Harpers every month. Probably just twist her wrist in that annoying “What?” gesture she uses.
Neora says she really wants to be a broadcast journalist, but her copy is so patently unclear, I’m not sure how she intends to work in the media. I think I will just have to come up with some ways to teach her about using quotes, working in background and setting up a viable story structure. Some of her language was so archaic and over the top that I actually questioned her on it and she admitted she had no idea what the words she was using actually meant. Pretty pathetic overall, I mean, clarity seems like a pretty basic concept.
I immediately went out and emailed the director of her school offering our services for a conference he’s got set up for next month. I think it could be an excellent opportunity for the JHR team to have mass impact, if we manage to organize some seminars that present information in a useful, relevant way.
Even by late Monday, when no one was biting and several papers had sent no’s, I was feeling incredibly encouraged because a) editors had bothered to respond and b) some responded with compliments, praising my pitch or letting me know they thought I was a strong writer, they just weren’t interested in this off-the-wall story.
I essentially floated home from the Internet café. I have worried so much about whether I would be able to make it as a freelancer, whether I would be able to write a pitch that would convince editors via email that I had the goods not only to write a story but deliver it in impressive shape. I also worried that no one would be interested in the kinds of stories that I’m interested in. Turns out there’s at least one who finds the quirky side of life worth covering!
For the first time since I arrived, I thought seriously about staying, about being able to really make a go of it. I worked from home the entire day, honing the story, making phone calls and envisioning a life in East Africa, with a phone and a fax machine and an ability to wake up every day and ask myself: What do I want to do today? For the first time I thought about what life would be like without the Star!
For several days I’ve had a shiny, happy feeling like I could really make a go of this, like I could become really comfortable and find the work very enjoyable. I felt particularly satisfied after getting an email from Bill asking for a piece on problems with Ghana’s fishing stocks and realizing I could ignore the ho-hum request if I chose. I think that has been my main problem with journalism, especially journalism at the Star: having to bend to someone else’s desires, having to watch as they edit the life out of your piece or make requests that make no sense, or ask the impossible or the implausible. It’s so nice to just go out, find something interesting, recognize it as interesting and write it in a way that keeps you interested and nets some editors as well.
What this will mean for my career generally is anyone’s guess. I’ve never known a Star employee to go off on a leave and freelance for other publications, so I have no idea whether this will be better for me or whether I’ll be able to return to an office environment.
The actual job is pretty brutal. I arranged to have Neora take Friday off so she could work on the story from home. She also thought she had malaria, so I thought it would be an easy way to kill two birds with one stone, especially since she lives about four hours from Accra. I gave her all my notes and explained the concept of melding them together for a story. What she turned in barely qualified as a story, though. It was four pages of what I would consider a book report. There wasn’t one quote, and the only source mentioned was the WAJU officer. Two of the six girls we interviewed were mentioned. The interviews I conducted without her weren’t mentioned. And entire sections of the reports we were supposed to be using as background were lifted word for word.
We spent two hours sitting down and writing. I mostly did the writing, she did a lot of shuffling papers pretending to be looking for quotes or facts or figures. I think she is eager to learn, but overwhelmed by the process. I think I’m frustrated by her lack of understanding of what makes a decent media story. She has no points of reference, no examples of good writing and no real desire to go out there and find them. I’m not sure what she would do if I suggested she go out and buy a copy of Harpers every month. Probably just twist her wrist in that annoying “What?” gesture she uses.
Neora says she really wants to be a broadcast journalist, but her copy is so patently unclear, I’m not sure how she intends to work in the media. I think I will just have to come up with some ways to teach her about using quotes, working in background and setting up a viable story structure. Some of her language was so archaic and over the top that I actually questioned her on it and she admitted she had no idea what the words she was using actually meant. Pretty pathetic overall, I mean, clarity seems like a pretty basic concept.
I immediately went out and emailed the director of her school offering our services for a conference he’s got set up for next month. I think it could be an excellent opportunity for the JHR team to have mass impact, if we manage to organize some seminars that present information in a useful, relevant way.
posted by Palmer in Africa at 6:15 AM
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