Editing

Professionals in paper hats

Professionals in paper hats

This week’s news out of The Oregonian ­ – aka Oregon Media Group (OMG!), aka Advance Central Services Oregon, aka Advance Publications, aka Who Can Keep Up – doesn’t mention layoffs. It just says it will be “saying goodbye to our longtime press employees.” Alt-weekly Willamette Week puts those who face that long goodbye at 100 to 200.

So what? Just one more tale of the legacy news industry being swamped by the digital tsunami. Pain on one front; progress on another. The march of time and technology. Horses to cars to rocketships and all that.

But this has me thinking about more than a few specialized jobs lost, or about a class of workers whose strong, gnarled, expert fingers might not be suited to the teensy keyboards on an iPhone. It also has me thinking about an essential part of the news operation that few outside our world think about, and even fewer see. And about what – and who – it has taken to do this work as well as it should be done.

So here’s an homage to the men (and yes, they were mostly that) who run the presses. They did – and do – far more than slap drums of paper onto massive rollers and make sure the stack-and-wrap machines didn’t jam. They never had a byline or asked for an award or even a thank-you. But they did their work in the communities they lived in. They cared about that work. They made my journalism better. They made me better.

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Clarity as elegance

Clarity as elegance

William Zinsser died today. He was 92, so no great shock, I guess. And his legacy lives on in books, articles and even blogs, so we can’t even say he’s really gone.

Even so, as soon as I stumbled across the news via FB, I hunted through my Seattle bookshelves trying to find my tattered, old-style paperback of “On Writing Well.” Not there. It must be in my office at Mizzou. I hate not finding books when and where I want them. I’m tempted to order an updated version from Amazon, despite my ambivalence about that big-footed behemoth and my links here to the same. It could be in my hands tomorrow, and I could sink into my red leather reading chair to immerse into Zinsser’s wisdom – wisdom he set down so clearly and that I seem to forget every time I write.

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Out of my inbox

Out of my inbox

I cringe when I think of the practical wisdom buried in years of disorganized and deleted email exchanges.

I’ll send up a flare when I’m struggling with a deadline project and get quick help back from some generous soul who knows stuff I don’t. That’s a whole lot of souls.

Or I’ll get a ping from a student, journalist or first-time Thanksgiving dinner cook desperate for some career or craft counsel. The pleas pile up my inbox. I scan, reply best I can, hit SEND – then move on. As Jed Bartlett would say, “What’s next?”

Incoming, Outgoing. And over time, a trove of lost treasure.

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