Journalism in the 21st Century

New writers are thrilled just to see their name in print. I remember when I was just starting out, interning at San Francisco Magazine. It was the eighties and I was all of 23, full of enthusiasm and stupid good will. The idea of getting paid for what I loved almost sounded illegal. "Any time you write, you should be paid for your work," a slightly older and paid colleague told me. I had just written a little ad for the magazine's personals section:      San Francisco classifieds bring single bunnies up to date      Getting personal      Now! The graphics department added a bunny. After that, marketing brought me into a meeting to bolster copy for a Shell ad. I willingly obliged. I wasn't paid and didn't even think of being paid. Again, I was chastised by my older colleague. I was beginning to feel like a chump, but that feeling was soon overpowered by the thrill I got interviewing a local comedian for our special birth...

1. I resolve to never make mean faces when I read e-mail rejections from editors, or if I do, I resolve to not record them and send them as attachments; 2. I resolve to rely more on my brain and less on Spellcheck, unless of course I'm really tired; 3. I resolve to be nicer to PRs who interrupt my busy day with pitches that are 17 paragraphs long and are addressed to "Laura Weigler" (Never was, never WILL BE Laura, and it's i before e, thank you very much); 4. I resolve to be nice when checks are late. No, no I don't. I resolve to hunt down editors who don't pay on time, publish their names on my blog, and kidnap their puppies! 5. I resolve to encourage my fellow journalists in the same way I want them to encourage me: constant praise, heaps of praise, gushing to the point of idolatry; 6. I resolve to stop screaming when I read the way a 23-year-old editor has just ruined my copy; 7. I resolve to stop bragging when one of my edito...