How to Excel as a Journalist: Tips from a Semi-Pro

I was deeply grieved to read the following sentences in the Wikipedia write-up on the Report:

"A number of right-wing journalists/commentators or pundits in Canada who are prominent today began their careers writing for The Report magazines, including Kenneth Whyte, the editor in chief of Maclean's; Colby Cosh of the National Post, Kevin Michael Grace, Lorne Gunter, Ezra Levant, Brian Mulawka, and Kevin Steel. Other distinguished alumni include: freelance journalist Ric Dolphin, former National Post writer Dunnery Best, U.S. food writer (and founding editor of Equinox magazine) Barry Estabrook, former PROFIT editor and publisher Rick Spence, author D'Arcy Jenish, and Paul Bunner, who in 2006 became a speechwriter for Prime Minister Stephen Harper."

My name does not appear on this list. Anywhere.

I was one of the best. The best of the best, in fact. I'm sure my giftedness was so painfully obvious that the writer of this Wikipedia entry didn't even bother to mention my name.

At any rate, I would like to share a couple of tips to any aspiring journalists out there:

Rise Above the Competition in Media Scrums

This is where I truly shone. Here's how I did it: First, I would press into the crowd of eager journalists surrounding the subject to be interviewed. I tried to look intense; I tried to look passionate. Then, as the competing voices rose in volume and intensity, I would say something . . . anything. It wasn't coherent, and I hadn't prepared a question. The rapid recitation of a line from Mother Goose would suffice.

All I knew is that to nail my story, someone else had to ask something intelligent.


Get Your Mug on the Screen

I remember injuring my ankle in soccer. At around that time, I had the privilege of sitting in on a murder trial. The experience was memorable. What I really wanted, though, was to be on television. How funny would it be, I asked myself, to be on the news that night? So I made sure to walk right behind those in involved in the case, trying to make my positioning look accidental.

The problem is that I generally can't be bothered to watch television. The next day, however, our  receptionist Cheryl said to me: "I saw you on T.V. last night!" It was one of my finest moments as a journalist. It's just too bad that I was hobbling so badly.


Don't Be Afraid of Who You Are, but Don't Identify Yourself Either

I was doing one story in particular and needed some information to discredit an organization. So I marched on over to this particular Association and said that I needed such-and-such information and could I please comb through the records? The receptionist said, "Certainly!" and I thought, "How kind."

I spent some time taking notes. Then the receptionist, making polite conversation, said, "So who did you say you are again?"

I hadn't said anything. She hadn't asked. When she heard my honest reply, however, she paled and  confessed to assuming that I worked for the Association. I said no, that I was writing a story on behalf of someone who was very angry at the Association.

She asked me to accompany her to a board room. I started to feel a little awkward because she interrupted what appeared to be a significant meeting with significant people. The people in this meeting, upon discovering what had happened, asked that I please not use the information I had gathered. They were all staring at me in astonishment, and asked me several times to keep what I learned confidential. I said that I would. And I did.

I couldn't bear to hurt anyone's feelings, or to get the receptionist in trouble. I have a soft spot for receptionists.


Learn to Transfer the Difficult Calls

One editor in particular was harassing me to find out information on a person I was interviewing. This question  was very awkward to bring up in a conversation. Even I, a person known for asking very personal questions due to my unquenchable curiousity, realized that trying to weasel certain details out of this individual was beyond tacky.

Finally, however, my editor's relentless badgering got to me. I asked the person I was interviewing the question directly--"Are you . . . ?" He was appalled that I would ask such a politically incorrect question, and he started yelling at me. I, in turn, was appalled that the only way to obtain such information was through such a direct and personal question. It wasn't even information interesting enough to satiate my curiousity, and that upset me.

So I did what all good journalists do. I told the person yelling at me on the other line that I didn't really want the information--that my editor put me up to it. I said that I would transfer him over. I calmly told my editor, "Someone would like to speak with you."

Moments later, my editor was shouting, and the man on the other end of the line was shouting, and all hell was breaking loose. I went back to writing my story. I never did get that piece of information.