Some questions answer themselves

To schedule, or not to schedule, that was the question.

Whether t’was nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of only publishing when there was something to say, or to take on more work that matters in search of more worth saying and publishing on a consistent schedule.

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub. For a long overdue encounter surfaced what dreams may come, when we have have shuffled off the mask of fear, finding ourselves feeling peers of those whom we look up to.

Thus all becomes clear. We can call ourselves what we like, but we are only that which we do. Can the poems, it’s scheduling time.

Wherever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.

That’s the first thing they teach you.

10 things my first 10 podcast episodes taught me

More or less in order of importance.

1. I talk too much.

2. I’m really getting better at this. Because I’m reviewing every minute of what are proving incredibly important conversations and can’t help but feel compelled to be a better host.

3. This is preserving a record of the automotive Zeitgeist. It’s a look into the life of the post-modern gearhead; empowered and handicapped by unlimited access to information.

4. Which means these conversations are the closest I’ve probably ever been to real, actual journalism in going on 10 years of running my own magazine.

5. I made it harder than it had to be in the beginning. And it got better as it got simpler.

6. The better the episodes go, the more motivated I am to hurry up and get them buttoned up and published. Momentum is a hell of a drug.

7. I’m pretty sure, most of the time, both my guest and I discover something new in the process. It’s an exciting experience.

8. I need to do a better job of marketing these conversations. They deserve a wider audience.

9. These conversations prove work-life parallel is in all of us—but we don’t always recognize it.

10. Gearbox Magazine just turned into Work-Life Parallel Evolution II, imo. #stoked

I wonder what I’ll know when I hit 20 episodes…

Journalism is hard, yo.

There are principles involved.

1. Journalism’s first obligation is to the truth.
2. Its first loyalty is to citizens.
3. Its essence is a discipline of verification.
4. Its practitioners must maintain an independence from those they cover.
5. It must serve as an independent monitor of power.
6. It must provide a forum for public criticism and compromise.
7. It must strive to make the significant interesting and relevant.
8. It must keep the news comprehensive and proportional.
9. Its practitioners must be allowed to exercise their personal conscience.

I’ve loved these principles since I first laid eyes on them back in 2011, when I was building Penmanshift. Numbers 1, 2, 4, and 7 have particularly resonated with me, as someone aspiring to be somewhat journalistic with his magazine-themed blogging efforts over the years.

(I’ve long struggled with #7, but the recent Gearbox Magazine reboot is working on that.)

The Pew Research Center’s “Project for Excellence in Journalism” (where I originally found these principles back in 2011 as I was building out Penmanshift) was eventually renamed the Journalism Project and I can only guess you’d need the Wayback Machine to find the page today.

Regardless, they stand the test of time.

There’s a real difference between news and journalism these days. And there’s an even bigger difference between publishing blog posts or magazine articles (note the semantics, there, people—please) and practicing journalism.

In the last 24 hours, I’ve had TWO article ideas that absolutely require me to get as close to real, actual journalism as I possibly can. These ideas thrill the living shit out of me.

And I’ll be damned if these pieces aren’t at least 100% more difficult than simply cranking out another ideological, next level gearhead-type editorial.

Journalism is the real deal. And it’s hard, yo.