H2O is the hot topic at casa Youle right now, as for one week only I'm living off African water rations in the name of cutting-edge journalism. A daily diary of my experiences and water usage will be kept here, and others may even log their thoughts on my increasing whiftiness.
In practical terms, my water allowance is 20 litres a day - the average for many Africans and probably some Gloucestershire residents at the moment. The normal daily water usage for a Londoner is about 160 litres, so the the numbers speak from themselves this is going to be a difficult adjustment.
When I started planning water week I had some worries - how often would I be able to shower, would I be able to cook pasta and rice as often as I usually do and would I need to invest in a new beaker for teeth cleaning? I don't have a car, or a dish-washer or a garden - surely this won't be too hard!
As my research continued, I realised the issues were going to be far more basic.
A bath uses 80 litres of water, a shower 35 - and that's for five minutes, not my usual splashingly long 20 minutes. Flushing the toilet once uses 8 litres of water, this made me panic. How was I going to survive on two toilet trips a day? Add two litres of drinking water to stay healthy and there's not much left to play with.
So I started body analysis. How many times a day did I go to the loo, never less than five after a few days counting. Oh dear! After discussions about whether I should increase my water supply (boyfriend - no that's what it's all about, what sort of journalist gives up when the going gets tough), I decided to go for the hard slog.
At best, I'm hoping to survive on one toilet flush a day and still wash occasionally. More than one person has already suggested that I should find a local park with bushy wildlife if the going gets really tough. I'm hoping it doesn't!
In preparation for the week ahead, I washed all my clothes this weekend and indulged in a long, hot bath yesterday evening. I know some might say this was cheating, but hell, I was already missing the blue stuff and thought I'd go out with a splash. I've also warned everyone I've spoken to that I might start to smell a bit by the end of the week, they have all been polite so far.
Armed with my measuring jug, an optimistic outlook and a new found respect for the amount of water I casually wash down pipes daily, the experiment has started. Watch this space.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Review #1 - David Foster Wallace: Literary footnote
Review of David Foster Wallace's book, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men -as seen on Westminster News Online's WOW magazine...
Unfamiliar language structures ripple through David Foster Wallace’s book of short stories, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, like a strong undercurrent pulling the reader through dark water. Vast, page long, footnotes insist that you read backwards and forwards at the same time. Seemingly endless sentences skip along holding your attention for pages at a time before offering the release of a full stop. In one short story a conversation is presented as numbered and sub-claused report.
The book consists of twenty-three short pieces of writing which all use vibrant language and innovative form. Each of the stories has a different narrative structure which jolts expectations and demands attention. Just when you think you’re on top of one unusual story structure, something new creeps into the next to shock you. The intensity of the writing makes it hard to penetrate, but very addictive. Vivid, ryhthmic, bouncing language and descreptions in second-by-second slowed down time feature heavily in Foster Wallace’s writing.
The three extracts which give the book its name, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, are journalistic in style. Each details a number of conversations which start with a label containing a number, date and American state. A transcription of one person’s part of the conversation is given, with the other part simply marked as Q and left blank. The reader becomes the questioner, any form of omniscient authorial voice is shunned.
Suspicion about narrative voices echos throughout many of the stories and at a deeper level seems to dictate the innovative structure of the writing. In one of the densest stories, The Depressed Person, footnotes are used instead of a narrator’s voice to offer a second viewpoint in the writing. Multiple voices remain in the piece, but the narrator’s voice is broken up and treated cautiously throughout.
Signifying Nothing is a dark comic piece of writing which describes a strange childhood memory that causes tensions in a family’s life. It’s a simple story told in the first person which is both funny and perplexing. Many of the stories make an impression simply because of the freshness of language used in them. ‘Forever Overheard’ offers a description of light and water in a swimming pool that echos David Hockney’s 1960s pictures of Californian water in intensity.
The language throughout Brief Interview with Hideous Men is vivid and fresh, it cuts through the stories assisting the reader in penetrating new narrative structures and dark themes. The originality of the writing and it’s insistence in questioning form is sharp and refreshing, it continually asks where voices in fiction come from. Foster Wallace uses language to act like the sucked lemon slice which helps to wash down the many tequila shots of radical form. Both are sharp and will not be to everyones taste, but the combination results in an innovative, original piece of writing that is bursting with attitude.
Unfamiliar language structures ripple through David Foster Wallace’s book of short stories, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, like a strong undercurrent pulling the reader through dark water. Vast, page long, footnotes insist that you read backwards and forwards at the same time. Seemingly endless sentences skip along holding your attention for pages at a time before offering the release of a full stop. In one short story a conversation is presented as numbered and sub-claused report.
The book consists of twenty-three short pieces of writing which all use vibrant language and innovative form. Each of the stories has a different narrative structure which jolts expectations and demands attention. Just when you think you’re on top of one unusual story structure, something new creeps into the next to shock you. The intensity of the writing makes it hard to penetrate, but very addictive. Vivid, ryhthmic, bouncing language and descreptions in second-by-second slowed down time feature heavily in Foster Wallace’s writing.
The three extracts which give the book its name, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, are journalistic in style. Each details a number of conversations which start with a label containing a number, date and American state. A transcription of one person’s part of the conversation is given, with the other part simply marked as Q and left blank. The reader becomes the questioner, any form of omniscient authorial voice is shunned.
Suspicion about narrative voices echos throughout many of the stories and at a deeper level seems to dictate the innovative structure of the writing. In one of the densest stories, The Depressed Person, footnotes are used instead of a narrator’s voice to offer a second viewpoint in the writing. Multiple voices remain in the piece, but the narrator’s voice is broken up and treated cautiously throughout.
Signifying Nothing is a dark comic piece of writing which describes a strange childhood memory that causes tensions in a family’s life. It’s a simple story told in the first person which is both funny and perplexing. Many of the stories make an impression simply because of the freshness of language used in them. ‘Forever Overheard’ offers a description of light and water in a swimming pool that echos David Hockney’s 1960s pictures of Californian water in intensity.
The language throughout Brief Interview with Hideous Men is vivid and fresh, it cuts through the stories assisting the reader in penetrating new narrative structures and dark themes. The originality of the writing and it’s insistence in questioning form is sharp and refreshing, it continually asks where voices in fiction come from. Foster Wallace uses language to act like the sucked lemon slice which helps to wash down the many tequila shots of radical form. Both are sharp and will not be to everyones taste, but the combination results in an innovative, original piece of writing that is bursting with attitude.
Friday, February 23, 2007
King Ping Pong
Ping pong ping pong – bounce boyng bounce…
A quirky BBC2 documentary devoted a full 60 minutes (of admittedly late-night viewing), to following the rise and rise ping pong tonight. Yes, ping pong! Teenagers of the world grab that remote and tune in.
Or so I would have thought before watching anyway. As it turns out - not so. This bouncing sport is apparently cherished by a veritable glitterati of intelligentsia. The reason - playing table tennis leads the mind into a Zen-like sphere of super consciousness, according to fans anyway.
Unlike other more gruelling physical sports, ping pong demands skill while also ensuring that the player is not so exhausted as to be unable to think and plan strategy. Team the biting logic of a chess player with the quick physical reactions of a juggler, put these together in the mind of a Buddhist monk and there you have it – a ping pong champion.
A great player may not always have the best batting stroke or sharpest reactions, according to one expert, but they will definitely be able to think six shots ahead of their opponent at all times.
Among the ranks of fan-club intelligentsia were a couple of notable writers. Sir Harry Evans often described as ‘the’ journalists’ journalist made an appearance describing the fun to be had from batting a ball around on a table. Henry Miller was also a dedicated follower.
Chairman Mao rocketed the game’s status to new levels when he made table tennis the national sport of China. This ensured Chinese dominance of the competitive circuit from the 1950s onwards.
The onomatopoeic route of ping pong also came up, exciting info for budding writers following in the footsteps of Evans and Miller in getting hooked. Early table tennis bats were hollow making a sound like a drum when the ball hit them which varied depending on the bat. Out rang the well known ping or pong, or as described by some of its other names whiff whaff or flim flam. Unfortunately the description is no longer accurate, the design of bats changed and so did the sound.
Sponge is another big innovation in the sport, in combination with speed-glue it has shortened rallies. But is this at the expense of spectacle and achieving the Zen-like meditative concentration levels that players talk of - some people worry so.
Back in the day, players would battle through single gruelling rallies that could last for up to two hours - oh for those bygone ping pong days.
A quirky BBC2 documentary devoted a full 60 minutes (of admittedly late-night viewing), to following the rise and rise ping pong tonight. Yes, ping pong! Teenagers of the world grab that remote and tune in.
Or so I would have thought before watching anyway. As it turns out - not so. This bouncing sport is apparently cherished by a veritable glitterati of intelligentsia. The reason - playing table tennis leads the mind into a Zen-like sphere of super consciousness, according to fans anyway.
Unlike other more gruelling physical sports, ping pong demands skill while also ensuring that the player is not so exhausted as to be unable to think and plan strategy. Team the biting logic of a chess player with the quick physical reactions of a juggler, put these together in the mind of a Buddhist monk and there you have it – a ping pong champion.
A great player may not always have the best batting stroke or sharpest reactions, according to one expert, but they will definitely be able to think six shots ahead of their opponent at all times.
Among the ranks of fan-club intelligentsia were a couple of notable writers. Sir Harry Evans often described as ‘the’ journalists’ journalist made an appearance describing the fun to be had from batting a ball around on a table. Henry Miller was also a dedicated follower.
Chairman Mao rocketed the game’s status to new levels when he made table tennis the national sport of China. This ensured Chinese dominance of the competitive circuit from the 1950s onwards.
The onomatopoeic route of ping pong also came up, exciting info for budding writers following in the footsteps of Evans and Miller in getting hooked. Early table tennis bats were hollow making a sound like a drum when the ball hit them which varied depending on the bat. Out rang the well known ping or pong, or as described by some of its other names whiff whaff or flim flam. Unfortunately the description is no longer accurate, the design of bats changed and so did the sound.
Sponge is another big innovation in the sport, in combination with speed-glue it has shortened rallies. But is this at the expense of spectacle and achieving the Zen-like meditative concentration levels that players talk of - some people worry so.
Back in the day, players would battle through single gruelling rallies that could last for up to two hours - oh for those bygone ping pong days.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Local News - And Onto Goliath
After my first week of work experience with a 'David' of local news, I moved for the last two weeks onto a Goliath.
North London Newspapers is part of Archant, one of the largest regional publishing groups. They publish six newspapers in the area, the Islington Gazette, the Islington EC1 Gazette, the Camden Gazette, the Hornsey Journal, the Tottenham Journal and the Muswell Hill Journal.
I was introduced with a very warm welcome to the team, the editor spent some time talking to me when I arrived and seemed genuinely interested to hear about my experience. I worked during the first week on the Journal series of papers and for the second week on the Camden and Islington Gazettes.
Straight away I was given strong news stories to work on. I spent my first day ringing resident’s associations about a mega-rave at Alexandra Palace. I managed to write a longer news story mainly with the quotes I had taken and by the middle of that week it had made it into print.
I was also given lots of opportunities to follow up on story leads and see where I could take them. One by-line story came out of an email from a resident about delays to building work at a local school. For another piece, I went out and knocked on resident’s doors to find out their views on a narrow road in Highgate where five cars had crashed in a week. Despite being outdoors for two hours on a freezing day, I hardly noticed the chill. I found it really satisfying gathering the information and quotes to build a developed story from a small piece of starting information. I also completed two sets of vox-pops, interviewing residents (often less than keen!) about a set topic for the week.
After mentioning that I had some feature writing experience to the news editor, she arranged for me to write a longer feature on Asian Weddings pegged on an upcoming exhibition. I was also lucky enough to get free tickets for two dance events at Sadler's Wells (the five-year-old ballet dancer and the cash strapped student in me were both celebrating), for which I wrote reviews.
By far the most glamorous experience of my three weeks in local news came when I was dispatched out to cover the opening of a hospital ward by Prince Andrew. I’m sure this probably would have been all in a normal day’s work for the more experienced reporter, but I was excited. I moved with the jostling press pack and photographers making sure not to miss a thing and felt like a fully fledged reporter by the time I headed back to the office.
During the last couple of days, I suggested some Islington story ideas to the Gazette news editor (thanks Cherie for a really useful lead) and he encouraged me to work on them. Many phone calls later I had filed a story for the following week’s paper.
The opportunity to test my reporting and writing skills to this extent was unexpected and appreciated, plus I have rarely been in a friendlier office. The team were a great bunch of people, who were genuinely willing to help me out and pass on work that would be challenging and useful for the future.
As my last day on the job came and went I was sorry that my time as a roving news reporter had come to an end....
At least until the next time I'm set lose on an unsuspecting employer anyway!
North London Newspapers is part of Archant, one of the largest regional publishing groups. They publish six newspapers in the area, the Islington Gazette, the Islington EC1 Gazette, the Camden Gazette, the Hornsey Journal, the Tottenham Journal and the Muswell Hill Journal.
I was introduced with a very warm welcome to the team, the editor spent some time talking to me when I arrived and seemed genuinely interested to hear about my experience. I worked during the first week on the Journal series of papers and for the second week on the Camden and Islington Gazettes.
Straight away I was given strong news stories to work on. I spent my first day ringing resident’s associations about a mega-rave at Alexandra Palace. I managed to write a longer news story mainly with the quotes I had taken and by the middle of that week it had made it into print.
I was also given lots of opportunities to follow up on story leads and see where I could take them. One by-line story came out of an email from a resident about delays to building work at a local school. For another piece, I went out and knocked on resident’s doors to find out their views on a narrow road in Highgate where five cars had crashed in a week. Despite being outdoors for two hours on a freezing day, I hardly noticed the chill. I found it really satisfying gathering the information and quotes to build a developed story from a small piece of starting information. I also completed two sets of vox-pops, interviewing residents (often less than keen!) about a set topic for the week.
After mentioning that I had some feature writing experience to the news editor, she arranged for me to write a longer feature on Asian Weddings pegged on an upcoming exhibition. I was also lucky enough to get free tickets for two dance events at Sadler's Wells (the five-year-old ballet dancer and the cash strapped student in me were both celebrating), for which I wrote reviews.
By far the most glamorous experience of my three weeks in local news came when I was dispatched out to cover the opening of a hospital ward by Prince Andrew. I’m sure this probably would have been all in a normal day’s work for the more experienced reporter, but I was excited. I moved with the jostling press pack and photographers making sure not to miss a thing and felt like a fully fledged reporter by the time I headed back to the office.
During the last couple of days, I suggested some Islington story ideas to the Gazette news editor (thanks Cherie for a really useful lead) and he encouraged me to work on them. Many phone calls later I had filed a story for the following week’s paper.
The opportunity to test my reporting and writing skills to this extent was unexpected and appreciated, plus I have rarely been in a friendlier office. The team were a great bunch of people, who were genuinely willing to help me out and pass on work that would be challenging and useful for the future.
As my last day on the job came and went I was sorry that my time as a roving news reporter had come to an end....
At least until the next time I'm set lose on an unsuspecting employer anyway!
Monday, January 29, 2007
From Wastegash To Buddhism - A Week In Local News
Hello there, it's good to be back in the blogosphere after all this time! I blame MacNaes for my absence, other journo students will empathise I hope.
So, I spent my first week of work experience at New Journal Enterprises last week. They run the Camden New Journal, the Islington Tribune and the West End Extra, and are an independent local newspaper group.
Independent has its benefits and down sides. Things are slightly less structured on the plus side and well, things are slightly less structured on the down side too. It was great to see reporters in action working on a strong local news agenda which wasn't affected by a bigger corporate agenda.
I started off the week typing reader's letters and spent a day or so hoping that the whole week wouldn't be spent transcribing the thoughts of concerned of Primrose Hill.
Luckily, more news orientated work did start to come my way. I wrote a good few news stories from press releases, one of which had been published (without a byline) by the time I left on Friday.
I spent one late night attending a talk on Buddhism by veteran explorer Sir John Aske. It was a 'terribly civilised' evening at Belsize Library run by a local group who are keen to show the council the library is important to the area.
There was something slightly surreal about listening to ideas on enlightenment and buddhist introspection in the midst of the great and the good of one of the more sought after post codes of North London, but it all added to the fun. The event was hosted by a retired psychoanalyst who was a great character and introduced me to some useful contacts.
All of my journalistic training and any other resources I could muster were needed to take on the task of being the team photographer. I pounded Camden on foot with my trusty camera in hand getting shots of an MP's house, business signs and local kids for the reporters who were too snowed under to make it out themselves. This was actually very enjoyable, although I'm not sure that the paparazzi agencies will be calling me anytime soon.
The main down side of doing just a weeks placement was that there was no opportunity for me to take the initiative in following up on original stories. I gave the team a couple of ideas that I'd had floating around which they seemed keen on. Unfortunately by the time we'd swapped ideas, it was too late to follow up on anything.
All the more reason to be grateful for the two week placement at North London Newspapers that started today. More news on this to follow soon...
So, after a week of rookie reporting the good news is I've not been put off! Highlights for me:
- Wastegash - anyone know what it means? Urban language is cool. North London teenagers out there should be able to illuminate.
- The discovery of Crack-den Road, how quickly things get renamed in newsrooms, it's fun listening to all the word-play flying around.
- Getting to grips with the news agenda of an area I know well and watching events evolve from life to news.
Thanks to all the New Journal team for being patient and throwing this rookie in the newsroom some jobs to cut her teeth on, it was an excellent introduction to local news reporting.
So, I spent my first week of work experience at New Journal Enterprises last week. They run the Camden New Journal, the Islington Tribune and the West End Extra, and are an independent local newspaper group.
Independent has its benefits and down sides. Things are slightly less structured on the plus side and well, things are slightly less structured on the down side too. It was great to see reporters in action working on a strong local news agenda which wasn't affected by a bigger corporate agenda.
I started off the week typing reader's letters and spent a day or so hoping that the whole week wouldn't be spent transcribing the thoughts of concerned of Primrose Hill.
Luckily, more news orientated work did start to come my way. I wrote a good few news stories from press releases, one of which had been published (without a byline) by the time I left on Friday.
I spent one late night attending a talk on Buddhism by veteran explorer Sir John Aske. It was a 'terribly civilised' evening at Belsize Library run by a local group who are keen to show the council the library is important to the area.
There was something slightly surreal about listening to ideas on enlightenment and buddhist introspection in the midst of the great and the good of one of the more sought after post codes of North London, but it all added to the fun. The event was hosted by a retired psychoanalyst who was a great character and introduced me to some useful contacts.
All of my journalistic training and any other resources I could muster were needed to take on the task of being the team photographer. I pounded Camden on foot with my trusty camera in hand getting shots of an MP's house, business signs and local kids for the reporters who were too snowed under to make it out themselves. This was actually very enjoyable, although I'm not sure that the paparazzi agencies will be calling me anytime soon.
The main down side of doing just a weeks placement was that there was no opportunity for me to take the initiative in following up on original stories. I gave the team a couple of ideas that I'd had floating around which they seemed keen on. Unfortunately by the time we'd swapped ideas, it was too late to follow up on anything.
All the more reason to be grateful for the two week placement at North London Newspapers that started today. More news on this to follow soon...
So, after a week of rookie reporting the good news is I've not been put off! Highlights for me:
- Wastegash - anyone know what it means? Urban language is cool. North London teenagers out there should be able to illuminate.
- The discovery of Crack-den Road, how quickly things get renamed in newsrooms, it's fun listening to all the word-play flying around.
- Getting to grips with the news agenda of an area I know well and watching events evolve from life to news.
Thanks to all the New Journal team for being patient and throwing this rookie in the newsroom some jobs to cut her teeth on, it was an excellent introduction to local news reporting.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Features #1: Observational Writing
Monday 20th November, 12:30pm: Westminster Uni Main Entrance Lifts
“Doors opening. Lift going up.”
Brown, tinged, institutional portal. Squeezing voices, sound that’s near and moves away, distant. “Doors closing.” Slam! Clug, clug, clug. “Second floor.”
“He did good den init. No no, you need to get seven. Seven is good. Man with hat is good. Oh my god, they are something man.” “Ya going up?”
“Lift going up, doors closing.” Bounce, wiggle, bounce. “Doors closing. Seventh floor.”
Yellowed, grey light falls on discarded paper. A slight hum of sound. Crossed legs in white trainers fill the dark tea stained air of the enclosed space. “Ground floor.”
“Aiya ya ya yai. Waz dis man. Ave you gotta problem with my hair cut you?” “Yeah.”
Slight hum sound. Click, whir, fizzle, wires. “Doors opening.”
View light, a window in the distance. Contrast and calm. Green, bright impact. A railway line, white houses. “Door’s closing.” Light fades. White trainers, slouching body.
Round black rubber disc floor. OTIS, brass metal, mess, muck, rail, dirtied walls. Graffiti tags. Cranking shaft.
“Ground floor.” Keys jangle. “Doors closing.” Ting, jang. Shuffling white trainers. Doors, light, slam. Whurrrr, whurrrr. whurrr, turning cogs working beneath and above.
“Mind the doors please.”
Red light, red numbers, flash and change. Red G. Fingers reach for button. Calling buttons, found and pressed. Arrows up, arrows down. LED changes. Ca-lick, ca-lick, ca-lick. Yellow triangle exclamation fights for attention on wall.
“Wha numba you going please.” Upbeat, polite voice speaks over the swish, wish, turn.
Large umbrella tap tap tap. Tap, clunk, giggle. Laughter fades. “Mind the doors please.”
“I do not know what room dis is. Last one, yeh dis is.” “I not done much, the guy goes, have you started – my project, easy man. What project’s about.”
“Mind the doors please.” Chug, whir, chug, whir.
Metallic catchings. Quietness. Lights hum. Strange capsule caught in silent time, speech trapped. “Doors opening.”
Corridor, sound passing, echoing, bouncing.
“I thought my dad was light. No reeeeally.” Three jolts. “Doors closing.” A girl in a pink woolly jumper, checks, ruffles and flattens hair. “Ground floor.”
Silence. Whir, whir, whir. Plastic, round, rubber, circles. Whistling in the distance. Wha wher wha, whistle fades.
Tongue clicking. “Third floor.” Laughter. Silence. “Everyone’s talking about it and it works out that all the DJs are gonna be there.” Bottle falls, the lid is lost.
“What did you do it today. I ain’t even looked, is the results up. I doan wanna look either man. You have to go to classroom.” “Second floor.” Hands move forward and knuckles touch, tapping - and again. “I’ll call ya”.
Silence. Sniff. “Third floor.” Sniff.
Press, press, press. “It going up.” Press, press, press.
Mirror check. Look close. “I’ve got so many flippin spots.” “Welcome to bloody orange world”.
“Doors opening. Lift going up.”
Brown, tinged, institutional portal. Squeezing voices, sound that’s near and moves away, distant. “Doors closing.” Slam! Clug, clug, clug. “Second floor.”
“He did good den init. No no, you need to get seven. Seven is good. Man with hat is good. Oh my god, they are something man.” “Ya going up?”
“Lift going up, doors closing.” Bounce, wiggle, bounce. “Doors closing. Seventh floor.”
Yellowed, grey light falls on discarded paper. A slight hum of sound. Crossed legs in white trainers fill the dark tea stained air of the enclosed space. “Ground floor.”
“Aiya ya ya yai. Waz dis man. Ave you gotta problem with my hair cut you?” “Yeah.”
Slight hum sound. Click, whir, fizzle, wires. “Doors opening.”
View light, a window in the distance. Contrast and calm. Green, bright impact. A railway line, white houses. “Door’s closing.” Light fades. White trainers, slouching body.
Round black rubber disc floor. OTIS, brass metal, mess, muck, rail, dirtied walls. Graffiti tags. Cranking shaft.
“Ground floor.” Keys jangle. “Doors closing.” Ting, jang. Shuffling white trainers. Doors, light, slam. Whurrrr, whurrrr. whurrr, turning cogs working beneath and above.
“Mind the doors please.”
Red light, red numbers, flash and change. Red G. Fingers reach for button. Calling buttons, found and pressed. Arrows up, arrows down. LED changes. Ca-lick, ca-lick, ca-lick. Yellow triangle exclamation fights for attention on wall.
“Wha numba you going please.” Upbeat, polite voice speaks over the swish, wish, turn.
Large umbrella tap tap tap. Tap, clunk, giggle. Laughter fades. “Mind the doors please.”
“I do not know what room dis is. Last one, yeh dis is.” “I not done much, the guy goes, have you started – my project, easy man. What project’s about.”
“Mind the doors please.” Chug, whir, chug, whir.
Metallic catchings. Quietness. Lights hum. Strange capsule caught in silent time, speech trapped. “Doors opening.”
Corridor, sound passing, echoing, bouncing.
“I thought my dad was light. No reeeeally.” Three jolts. “Doors closing.” A girl in a pink woolly jumper, checks, ruffles and flattens hair. “Ground floor.”
Silence. Whir, whir, whir. Plastic, round, rubber, circles. Whistling in the distance. Wha wher wha, whistle fades.
Tongue clicking. “Third floor.” Laughter. Silence. “Everyone’s talking about it and it works out that all the DJs are gonna be there.” Bottle falls, the lid is lost.
“What did you do it today. I ain’t even looked, is the results up. I doan wanna look either man. You have to go to classroom.” “Second floor.” Hands move forward and knuckles touch, tapping - and again. “I’ll call ya”.
Silence. Sniff. “Third floor.” Sniff.
Press, press, press. “It going up.” Press, press, press.
Mirror check. Look close. “I’ve got so many flippin spots.” “Welcome to bloody orange world”.
Monday, November 13, 2006
The Power of the Pad
Having just about recovered from Friday night's drinking session with the other Westminster student journos (the hangovers last that long these days), I dragged myself out of bed on Sunday morning to set off on my first reporting assignment. Exciting stuff.
I've nominated Islington as my working 'beat' for the rest of the news course and my first story was to cover the dedication of a new war memorial at Islington Green that has been dividing local opinion. Small fry in the world of national news I know, but you have to start somewhere.
After patiently taking notes throughout the remembrance ceremony while also dodging the backs of other press photographers jumping in front of me, I started to notice that something odd was going on.
A lady standing next to me seemed to have become obsessed with my notepad. She kept looking at it to see what I was writing. What's more, she started telling me all of her thoughts about the day and then checking to see if I'd written them down.
Fortunately, she was a useful contact to have. I had no idea that the Labour MP for North Islington was at the ceremony, let alone the fact that he was not wearing a poppy and did not sing 'God save the Queen'. What luck to have landed next to a local fountain of knowledge I thought, perhaps the lady just likes to chat.
However, the urge for people to come and talk to me only increased after the service had finished. It was at this stage I realised that the 'power of the notepad' was in force. Stand around for long enough with a notepad and people will start telling you things - how fantastic!
Needless to say, with little more than a smile and a quick round of the square I'd spoken to ex-mayors, a councilor, the sculptor and many really interesting war veterans. For some strange reason, as soon as people saw my notepad they wanted to tell me things. This also increased exponentially, the more people I spoke to, the more people approached me. What a great introduction to the world of the roving reporter.
I can only hope the appeal of my trusty reporters pad will be as strong on future assignments. It really makes for an interesting morning hearing so many diverse views on a subject.
I've nominated Islington as my working 'beat' for the rest of the news course and my first story was to cover the dedication of a new war memorial at Islington Green that has been dividing local opinion. Small fry in the world of national news I know, but you have to start somewhere.
After patiently taking notes throughout the remembrance ceremony while also dodging the backs of other press photographers jumping in front of me, I started to notice that something odd was going on.
A lady standing next to me seemed to have become obsessed with my notepad. She kept looking at it to see what I was writing. What's more, she started telling me all of her thoughts about the day and then checking to see if I'd written them down.
Fortunately, she was a useful contact to have. I had no idea that the Labour MP for North Islington was at the ceremony, let alone the fact that he was not wearing a poppy and did not sing 'God save the Queen'. What luck to have landed next to a local fountain of knowledge I thought, perhaps the lady just likes to chat.
However, the urge for people to come and talk to me only increased after the service had finished. It was at this stage I realised that the 'power of the notepad' was in force. Stand around for long enough with a notepad and people will start telling you things - how fantastic!
Needless to say, with little more than a smile and a quick round of the square I'd spoken to ex-mayors, a councilor, the sculptor and many really interesting war veterans. For some strange reason, as soon as people saw my notepad they wanted to tell me things. This also increased exponentially, the more people I spoke to, the more people approached me. What a great introduction to the world of the roving reporter.
I can only hope the appeal of my trusty reporters pad will be as strong on future assignments. It really makes for an interesting morning hearing so many diverse views on a subject.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Strange Goings On....
We managed to skip class today (with the lecturer's permission) to attend a uni journalism networking event.
Networking and event are two words that can inspire apathy in the best of us, but I was pleasantly surprised at how well things were done.
When I was at uni first time round, the careers service's main point of advice was that we should hand write the cover letter that went with our CVs. I'm sure this scuppered the job hunting efforts of many a poor soul who was daft enough to listen.
I don't really think that anyone else can tell you how to get a job, but the advice given was useful and more importantly interesting.
The speakers were all engaging and had unique stories about following their own paths to end up in the type of journalistic job you would want to tell everyone about. (See Sarah's excellent write up for more info, the post's called 'It's not what you know...')
It's good to know that working for small publications can lead onto bigger things. It's also good to know that industry professionals are willing to give up an afternoon to come and talk to a load of students now and again.
There was only one major down point. None of us got to sample any of the many bottles of free wine on offer. I should add this was because I had a class to get back to, rather than new found powers of self restraint. However, the speakers must have wondered what on earth was going on - students passing up a freeby, something odd's going on there!
Networking and event are two words that can inspire apathy in the best of us, but I was pleasantly surprised at how well things were done.
When I was at uni first time round, the careers service's main point of advice was that we should hand write the cover letter that went with our CVs. I'm sure this scuppered the job hunting efforts of many a poor soul who was daft enough to listen.
I don't really think that anyone else can tell you how to get a job, but the advice given was useful and more importantly interesting.
The speakers were all engaging and had unique stories about following their own paths to end up in the type of journalistic job you would want to tell everyone about. (See Sarah's excellent write up for more info, the post's called 'It's not what you know...')
It's good to know that working for small publications can lead onto bigger things. It's also good to know that industry professionals are willing to give up an afternoon to come and talk to a load of students now and again.
There was only one major down point. None of us got to sample any of the many bottles of free wine on offer. I should add this was because I had a class to get back to, rather than new found powers of self restraint. However, the speakers must have wondered what on earth was going on - students passing up a freeby, something odd's going on there!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Shrinking Time
I've been suffering from a sensation that time is shrinking over the last few weeks. I often used to get this at work as my every increasing inbox bulged before my eyes.
There seems to be so much to do and so little time to do it in.
I'm learning new things all the time about what it means to think, act and live like a journalist with the result that my 'to do' list is always expanding. It now includes:
- read blogs
- write blogs
- practice shorthand (and not just the L X bits that are sort of fun - bad shortand joke)
- read all the books sitting in a big pile on my desk that have been friendless since they left the library
- try and find stories to get into uni newspaper
- keep eyes peeled for other stories in local area that may be of interest
- read all the papers
- listen to radio news/watch TV news
- generally eat and sleep
- occasionally say hello to friends and family who have patiently stuck by me despite the fact that they are very obviously at the bottom of this long list!
Life is busy, but in a very good way.
Could it be the case that learning to be a journalist is all about doing all these things at once while also absorbing tons of information about what's going on in the world around you. I think so and it's a skill I haven't quite mastered yet.
I saw an article somewhere on the web recently about shrinking time. Scientists think they may be able to expand our perception to increase the 'work to time' ratio. This sounds like scary business speak, but it proved to be a very interesting concept.
Our minds control how we perceive time - it's often said that time slows down when people are in great danger, this has been shown to be scientifically true. We do have the capacity to take in more information about what's going on around us in extreme situations.
I quite regularly find myself wishing for some of this slowed down time at the moment, let's hope they crack the theory soon. Until then however, it's time to move onto point three of the list!
There seems to be so much to do and so little time to do it in.
I'm learning new things all the time about what it means to think, act and live like a journalist with the result that my 'to do' list is always expanding. It now includes:
- read blogs
- write blogs
- practice shorthand (and not just the L X bits that are sort of fun - bad shortand joke)
- read all the books sitting in a big pile on my desk that have been friendless since they left the library
- try and find stories to get into uni newspaper
- keep eyes peeled for other stories in local area that may be of interest
- read all the papers
- listen to radio news/watch TV news
- generally eat and sleep
- occasionally say hello to friends and family who have patiently stuck by me despite the fact that they are very obviously at the bottom of this long list!
Life is busy, but in a very good way.
Could it be the case that learning to be a journalist is all about doing all these things at once while also absorbing tons of information about what's going on in the world around you. I think so and it's a skill I haven't quite mastered yet.
I saw an article somewhere on the web recently about shrinking time. Scientists think they may be able to expand our perception to increase the 'work to time' ratio. This sounds like scary business speak, but it proved to be a very interesting concept.
Our minds control how we perceive time - it's often said that time slows down when people are in great danger, this has been shown to be scientifically true. We do have the capacity to take in more information about what's going on around us in extreme situations.
I quite regularly find myself wishing for some of this slowed down time at the moment, let's hope they crack the theory soon. Until then however, it's time to move onto point three of the list!
Monday, November 06, 2006
Freedom of Extremist Speech
Some interesting points came up during Friday's lecture on the journalist's Code of Conduct.
I now know that malice and subterfuge are bad! I'll certainly be vigilant in keeping my eyes peeled for them and my journalistic pen free from contamination.
The Human Rights Act, which encorporates the European Convention of Human Rights into British law, also seems to have had quite an effect on journalistic practice over the last few years.
I've found it's hard to access unbiased info about the Act. The tabloids regularly hold it up as a shining example of the horrors that occur when liberalism and political correctness flourish.
I read Melanie Phillip's Londonistan in the summer which gives a similar viewpoint. It's an interesting read, although very far right of the middle ground and full of controversial views. The book links the rise of terror in the UK to our liberal stance in allowing extremists freedom of speech in the mid to late nineties, most obviously the Finsbury Park mosque era (very loose summary).
On the other side of the fence, liberals seem to use the Act as a badge of honour whenever they mount a soap box in defence of the next good cause.
It's hard to push through all this polarised opinion to an unbiased view of the Act's impact. In journalism, the Act seems to have had most affect on regulations surrounding privacy and freedom of speech.
An aside point about freedom of speech really got me thinking. Under the legislation, individuals and political parties with extreme viewpoints are free to express these and should be given appropriate representation by the press. Apparently the BNP often claims that its politics are not given enough coverage in the British press.
However, am I right in thinking that the UK now also has legislation against inciting hatred?
If so, at what point does it become acceptable to stop someone with an extreme viewpoint from communicating this and who decides what's too extreme to be heard. Do journalists have a responsibility not to give air or paper time to viewpoints that may incite hatred.
(We could be veering back to Orwell terriority here.....)
It's a hard call and I imagine a bit of a grey area at the moment. I am personally undecided about the whole argument. I strongly agree with the principle of free speech for everyone, but perhaps when applying this to real life reporting - less idealism and more practical judgment will be needed.
I now know that malice and subterfuge are bad! I'll certainly be vigilant in keeping my eyes peeled for them and my journalistic pen free from contamination.
The Human Rights Act, which encorporates the European Convention of Human Rights into British law, also seems to have had quite an effect on journalistic practice over the last few years.
I've found it's hard to access unbiased info about the Act. The tabloids regularly hold it up as a shining example of the horrors that occur when liberalism and political correctness flourish.
I read Melanie Phillip's Londonistan in the summer which gives a similar viewpoint. It's an interesting read, although very far right of the middle ground and full of controversial views. The book links the rise of terror in the UK to our liberal stance in allowing extremists freedom of speech in the mid to late nineties, most obviously the Finsbury Park mosque era (very loose summary).
On the other side of the fence, liberals seem to use the Act as a badge of honour whenever they mount a soap box in defence of the next good cause.
It's hard to push through all this polarised opinion to an unbiased view of the Act's impact. In journalism, the Act seems to have had most affect on regulations surrounding privacy and freedom of speech.
An aside point about freedom of speech really got me thinking. Under the legislation, individuals and political parties with extreme viewpoints are free to express these and should be given appropriate representation by the press. Apparently the BNP often claims that its politics are not given enough coverage in the British press.
However, am I right in thinking that the UK now also has legislation against inciting hatred?
If so, at what point does it become acceptable to stop someone with an extreme viewpoint from communicating this and who decides what's too extreme to be heard. Do journalists have a responsibility not to give air or paper time to viewpoints that may incite hatred.
(We could be veering back to Orwell terriority here.....)
It's a hard call and I imagine a bit of a grey area at the moment. I am personally undecided about the whole argument. I strongly agree with the principle of free speech for everyone, but perhaps when applying this to real life reporting - less idealism and more practical judgment will be needed.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Evolution of Print Dinosaurs
There's been a lot of thought, talk and controversy since I started studying journalism about the future of news, particularly newspapers.
No one seems quite sure what the future holds for newspapers and whether they can survive the internet news revolution we're experiencing at the moment.
This has led me to ask whether in joining the print arm of journalism, I have consigned myself to some sort of dinosaurs graveyard for fleet street hacks. However, always the optimist, I haven't spent too long beating myself up about this.
The reason I'm not too worried is that I think it's unlikely people will ever stop reading. If there are people reading about news and current affairs, then it follows that there will also be writers. Whether the writing hits paper or a computer screen seems less important.
I am obviously biased, I've chosen a career based on the idea that people will pay money to read what journalists have to say. But, a quick look at the world around us seems to back up the fact that reading is still a part of regular daily life.
People use email to communicate at work, write reports, buy books or magazines. It's easy to take a quick look at an online news site when the boss' head is turned. Whether it's for work or entertainment the written word is still very much alive among us. And if that's the case, then how can print journalism be dead?
Online news seems to be a medium well suited to those people who entered journalism because they want to write. And what's more, online news is exciting and fast moving, new stories are posted as soon as they break. You have all the benefits of broadcast platforms conveyed in written format.
The language of online news also has to be catchy, tight and concise or you've lost your reader/scanner to the next page. So the medium is also asking writers to innovate and consider how they use language - never a bad thing.
The possibility of overlapping mediums is also really exciting, video journalism is quickly becoming a part of most online news sites. Those months of agonising about whether to sudy print or broadcast journalism seem completely unnecessary in hindsight. Convergent media platforms now mean I'll probably get the chance to do both.
The media is generally improved by taking the best bits of different mediums and using them to compliment each other. Can we imagine journalism without photos or the latest pop song without a glitzy video.
So it seems that written online news definitely has a future. But there is a more specific question in the print debate about whether newspapers will survive?
This is a tricky one. Michael Kinsley makes an interesting point in Time magazine, in an article entitled 'Do Newspaper Have a Future?':
"The fact that people won't pay for news on the Internet isn't as devastating for the old medium as it seems. People don't pay for the news in traditional newspapers: they pay for the paper, which typically costs the company more than it charges for the finished product. So in theory, giving away the news without the paper looks like a good deal for newspapers, if they can keep the advertising."
The argument actually seems to revolve around where the advertising pound is spent and from there the format will follow. Journalism is after all a business at heart. So the future of newspapers may well depend on the decisions of advertising boardrooms over the next few years.
It is possible that newspapers will not survive for the indefinite future. This does not however mean that print journalism is finished. The written word lends itself equally well to other platforms and the opportunity to embrace new technology should always be an exciting one.
I don't really mind whether a story I write ends up on paper, the web or any where else, as long as I'm giving the chance to research and write that story in the first place. What's more if I'm offered training in video journalism or other multimedia platforms, you'll find me jumping at the chance. It all offers the opportunity to use different techniques to creatively express ideas.
It's understandable that journalists are evaluating the future of their industry at the moment. Any period of rapid change brings about questions and insecurity. However, the early 21st century seems like an exciting time to be entering the world of journalism. And if newspapers are eventually consigned to the annuls of history, at least we'll be able to say we were there for some of it.
No one seems quite sure what the future holds for newspapers and whether they can survive the internet news revolution we're experiencing at the moment.
This has led me to ask whether in joining the print arm of journalism, I have consigned myself to some sort of dinosaurs graveyard for fleet street hacks. However, always the optimist, I haven't spent too long beating myself up about this.
The reason I'm not too worried is that I think it's unlikely people will ever stop reading. If there are people reading about news and current affairs, then it follows that there will also be writers. Whether the writing hits paper or a computer screen seems less important.
I am obviously biased, I've chosen a career based on the idea that people will pay money to read what journalists have to say. But, a quick look at the world around us seems to back up the fact that reading is still a part of regular daily life.
People use email to communicate at work, write reports, buy books or magazines. It's easy to take a quick look at an online news site when the boss' head is turned. Whether it's for work or entertainment the written word is still very much alive among us. And if that's the case, then how can print journalism be dead?
Online news seems to be a medium well suited to those people who entered journalism because they want to write. And what's more, online news is exciting and fast moving, new stories are posted as soon as they break. You have all the benefits of broadcast platforms conveyed in written format.
The language of online news also has to be catchy, tight and concise or you've lost your reader/scanner to the next page. So the medium is also asking writers to innovate and consider how they use language - never a bad thing.
The possibility of overlapping mediums is also really exciting, video journalism is quickly becoming a part of most online news sites. Those months of agonising about whether to sudy print or broadcast journalism seem completely unnecessary in hindsight. Convergent media platforms now mean I'll probably get the chance to do both.
The media is generally improved by taking the best bits of different mediums and using them to compliment each other. Can we imagine journalism without photos or the latest pop song without a glitzy video.
So it seems that written online news definitely has a future. But there is a more specific question in the print debate about whether newspapers will survive?
This is a tricky one. Michael Kinsley makes an interesting point in Time magazine, in an article entitled 'Do Newspaper Have a Future?':
"The fact that people won't pay for news on the Internet isn't as devastating for the old medium as it seems. People don't pay for the news in traditional newspapers: they pay for the paper, which typically costs the company more than it charges for the finished product. So in theory, giving away the news without the paper looks like a good deal for newspapers, if they can keep the advertising."
The argument actually seems to revolve around where the advertising pound is spent and from there the format will follow. Journalism is after all a business at heart. So the future of newspapers may well depend on the decisions of advertising boardrooms over the next few years.
It is possible that newspapers will not survive for the indefinite future. This does not however mean that print journalism is finished. The written word lends itself equally well to other platforms and the opportunity to embrace new technology should always be an exciting one.
I don't really mind whether a story I write ends up on paper, the web or any where else, as long as I'm giving the chance to research and write that story in the first place. What's more if I'm offered training in video journalism or other multimedia platforms, you'll find me jumping at the chance. It all offers the opportunity to use different techniques to creatively express ideas.
It's understandable that journalists are evaluating the future of their industry at the moment. Any period of rapid change brings about questions and insecurity. However, the early 21st century seems like an exciting time to be entering the world of journalism. And if newspapers are eventually consigned to the annuls of history, at least we'll be able to say we were there for some of it.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Blogtastic
I just thought I should put up a quick post to say what fun I've had on a couple of afternoons this week reading all the Westminster blogs from other journo students (these can be accessed by the Westminster site weblink).
I have been blog surfing under contraband time (breaking my self imposed plan to get my a*se in gear and finish the magazine proposal that I've been dilly-dallying over all week), so I haven't had the chance to leave any individual comments. But, I have really enjoyed reading all the different writing styles, fresh ideas and quirky takes on life.
There is lots of impressive stuff coming from the blogs and its great to have an easy tap into it. I can see a lot more time being eaten up in just the same way in the next few months. Shorthand or blog watching - hmmm dilema?!
I have a couple of bits to post about monks full of 'The Force' and an interesting snippet I found to add to the 'Is print dead' debate, but have banned myself from any further blog contact until my magnus opus on Practical Poultry (it's a chicken magazine - don't ya know!) is finished. So that will have to wait until the weekend....
P.S. I am laughing now as the spell check on blogger.com doesn't recognise blog or weblink! Strange!
I have been blog surfing under contraband time (breaking my self imposed plan to get my a*se in gear and finish the magazine proposal that I've been dilly-dallying over all week), so I haven't had the chance to leave any individual comments. But, I have really enjoyed reading all the different writing styles, fresh ideas and quirky takes on life.
There is lots of impressive stuff coming from the blogs and its great to have an easy tap into it. I can see a lot more time being eaten up in just the same way in the next few months. Shorthand or blog watching - hmmm dilema?!
I have a couple of bits to post about monks full of 'The Force' and an interesting snippet I found to add to the 'Is print dead' debate, but have banned myself from any further blog contact until my magnus opus on Practical Poultry (it's a chicken magazine - don't ya know!) is finished. So that will have to wait until the weekend....
P.S. I am laughing now as the spell check on blogger.com doesn't recognise blog or weblink! Strange!
Sunday, October 22, 2006
History Matters
I've posted a copy of the blog I sent to History Matters below. If you haven't heard, this is a mass-blog that is going to be turned into a historical archive at the British Museum - cool.
The idea is for everyone to write a blog about what happened to them on Tuesday 17th October and how history might have affected them on that day. You can still submit a blog until 1st November at http://www.historymatters.org.uk/output/Page1.asp - do have a look if you haven't seen the press coverage.
Unfortunately I am banging on about websites again! After this post, I promise to diversify into pastures new. :-)
"Technology and history have hovered around me today while a crisis unfolded!
I’m building a website (as part of a post grad journalism course) about the regional press in the UK. Building the site has been tricky as I have little experience with techno-stuff and am not naturally gifted in the area. However, learning about how the British press is using new technology to communicate with readers has been fascinating. Blogging, citizen journalism and video journalism seem to be big talking points for the press at the moment.
I’m new to blogging and have only started in the last week or so. Despite being new and innovative, I think blogging has historical overtones. Writing diaries and letters are now often seen as lost arts, but blogging and email have opened up new ways of tapping into these traditional skills. The language of the net is also fun, vibrant and living. Shakespeare would be a blog-addict were he alive today.
All these thoughts about communication and language, past and future, faded in and out of my mind as I dealt with the biggest technical problem I’ve had while building the website. Pictures, links and just about everything else on the site stopped working, all made worse by the pressure of a looming deadline. I soldiered on trying to fix the problems for a few hours and eventually conceded defeat, imagining the worst.
However, back at home things improved quickly. A chat with my techno-whizz boyfriend had my website demons identified in no time (my boyfriend thinks I should write ‘daemons’ here as a techno-pun, but I’ve no idea what he’s on about…again!). A rogue forward-slash in front of all my links had been the problem. A tap of the back-space key and the site worked perfectly again! How had something so small caused so much stress and frustration? Thank goodness for people and their much needed input.
When times get tough, history has taught me to rely on those important people in my life who fix me and keep me smiling."
The idea is for everyone to write a blog about what happened to them on Tuesday 17th October and how history might have affected them on that day. You can still submit a blog until 1st November at http://www.historymatters.org.uk/output/Page1.asp - do have a look if you haven't seen the press coverage.
Unfortunately I am banging on about websites again! After this post, I promise to diversify into pastures new. :-)
"Technology and history have hovered around me today while a crisis unfolded!
I’m building a website (as part of a post grad journalism course) about the regional press in the UK. Building the site has been tricky as I have little experience with techno-stuff and am not naturally gifted in the area. However, learning about how the British press is using new technology to communicate with readers has been fascinating. Blogging, citizen journalism and video journalism seem to be big talking points for the press at the moment.
I’m new to blogging and have only started in the last week or so. Despite being new and innovative, I think blogging has historical overtones. Writing diaries and letters are now often seen as lost arts, but blogging and email have opened up new ways of tapping into these traditional skills. The language of the net is also fun, vibrant and living. Shakespeare would be a blog-addict were he alive today.
All these thoughts about communication and language, past and future, faded in and out of my mind as I dealt with the biggest technical problem I’ve had while building the website. Pictures, links and just about everything else on the site stopped working, all made worse by the pressure of a looming deadline. I soldiered on trying to fix the problems for a few hours and eventually conceded defeat, imagining the worst.
However, back at home things improved quickly. A chat with my techno-whizz boyfriend had my website demons identified in no time (my boyfriend thinks I should write ‘daemons’ here as a techno-pun, but I’ve no idea what he’s on about…again!). A rogue forward-slash in front of all my links had been the problem. A tap of the back-space key and the site worked perfectly again! How had something so small caused so much stress and frustration? Thank goodness for people and their much needed input.
When times get tough, history has taught me to rely on those important people in my life who fix me and keep me smiling."
Friday, October 20, 2006
The Book's Gotcha
Life at uni is about to enter 'the writing' phase - exciting times.
The website I've been putting together is finished and for a while my mind is free of thinking about html, links and whether things will still be working when I turn the computer back on (naughty cyber-pixies creep in at night I'm sure!).
So, the first writing exercise, a book review. Apparently reviews should not express personal opinion. Instead they should explain whether the book meets the objectives it sets for itself.
I hadn't found this out when I wrote the review below. However, it's nice to indulge in a bit of personal opinion while I still have the chance. The book is definitely worth a read if you can find one of the elusive copies still doing the rounds (try amazon or the library).....
"Peter Chippindale and Chris Horrie’s ‘Stick It Up Your Punter’ made me laugh before I’d even bought a copy!
It’s a hard book to get hold of - this does not mean, like me, you can’t have some fun trying. Shop assistants will smile quizzically at you, with a glint in their eye, when you tell them the title before politely replying that it’s not in stock.
Say the title out loud and the syncopation of the words hints at the direct, funny and often darkly satirical language throughout this entertaining history of The Sun newspaper.
The book covers each stage of the Sun’s growth and development, from the early days when Larry Lamb and Rupert Murdoch re-launched the paper, to the infamous period when Kelvin MacKenzie was editor at the ‘Current Bun’.
If you haven’t heard of MacKenzie before reading the book, you are likely to be intrigued by him after. MacKenzie stands out as a typically Dickensian character, a dark and omniscient presence at Fortress Wapping, the paper’s docklands base from the eighties.
MacKenzie is passionate about The Sun, a workaholic and a gifted tabloid editor (still often hailed as one of the greatest). He leads the paper into an era of record sales, however MacKenzie is a flawed hero, lewd, crude and a risk taker.
The book documents the drama surrounding MacKenzie's more infamous headline stories, offering an intriguing insiders account of daily life at a British tabloid paper.
Like most stories about flawed, eccentric men with power, the book makes for compelling reading. MacKenzie’s vocabulary and management style, similar to that of an East End gangster in his prime, make the story all the more addictive.
If this book were not a factual account of The Sun’s history, its authors would be recognised for their witty portrayal of a cast of brilliantly over-the-top characters contained within a fast moving and addictive plot line. However, this is not a novel and on reflection the book draws out darker undertones as it describes the excesses of tabloid newspaper culture.
Stick It Up Your Punter leaves you informed about its subject while also stimulating a healthy curiosity to find out more. I have unwittingly become curiouser and curiouser about MacKenzie and his Machiavellian overlord Murdoch, ever since finishing reading."
The website I've been putting together is finished and for a while my mind is free of thinking about html, links and whether things will still be working when I turn the computer back on (naughty cyber-pixies creep in at night I'm sure!).
So, the first writing exercise, a book review. Apparently reviews should not express personal opinion. Instead they should explain whether the book meets the objectives it sets for itself.
I hadn't found this out when I wrote the review below. However, it's nice to indulge in a bit of personal opinion while I still have the chance. The book is definitely worth a read if you can find one of the elusive copies still doing the rounds (try amazon or the library).....
"Peter Chippindale and Chris Horrie’s ‘Stick It Up Your Punter’ made me laugh before I’d even bought a copy!
It’s a hard book to get hold of - this does not mean, like me, you can’t have some fun trying. Shop assistants will smile quizzically at you, with a glint in their eye, when you tell them the title before politely replying that it’s not in stock.
Say the title out loud and the syncopation of the words hints at the direct, funny and often darkly satirical language throughout this entertaining history of The Sun newspaper.
The book covers each stage of the Sun’s growth and development, from the early days when Larry Lamb and Rupert Murdoch re-launched the paper, to the infamous period when Kelvin MacKenzie was editor at the ‘Current Bun’.
If you haven’t heard of MacKenzie before reading the book, you are likely to be intrigued by him after. MacKenzie stands out as a typically Dickensian character, a dark and omniscient presence at Fortress Wapping, the paper’s docklands base from the eighties.
MacKenzie is passionate about The Sun, a workaholic and a gifted tabloid editor (still often hailed as one of the greatest). He leads the paper into an era of record sales, however MacKenzie is a flawed hero, lewd, crude and a risk taker.
The book documents the drama surrounding MacKenzie's more infamous headline stories, offering an intriguing insiders account of daily life at a British tabloid paper.
Like most stories about flawed, eccentric men with power, the book makes for compelling reading. MacKenzie’s vocabulary and management style, similar to that of an East End gangster in his prime, make the story all the more addictive.
If this book were not a factual account of The Sun’s history, its authors would be recognised for their witty portrayal of a cast of brilliantly over-the-top characters contained within a fast moving and addictive plot line. However, this is not a novel and on reflection the book draws out darker undertones as it describes the excesses of tabloid newspaper culture.
Stick It Up Your Punter leaves you informed about its subject while also stimulating a healthy curiosity to find out more. I have unwittingly become curiouser and curiouser about MacKenzie and his Machiavellian overlord Murdoch, ever since finishing reading."
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Studying journalism and other stuff
So, this blog is FINALLY up and running! Why do I always seem to be typing away at midnight these days – work overload. Anyway, I’ve set this site up to write about my year of zinky days studying journalism at Westminster uni and any other bits of life that I manage to squeeze in around that.
First seminar at uni, our course leader gives a slightly satirical and very amusing definition of dinky life (double income no kids yet). I chuckled as, despite hating to be a marketing cliché, it wasn't a bad description of my life until three months ago. After years of working in recruitment in the city, I decided the time was right for a change. I’d studied English at uni eons ago, was tired of city life and really liked the idea of getting back to writing. Hence I’m entering a year of ‘zero income no kids yet’ territory.
It’s been fun so far! It’s great to be doing something intellectually stimulating again, if at times intimidating. The first few weeks have flown by in a whirlwind of new technology and new ideas, not to mention shorthand. The new ideas are great, the new technology has been scary. I’m one of those people who is enamoured by technology for the simple reason that its inner workings are like magic to me – I have no idea what’s going on to create those strange whirring sounds from my laptop! So building websites, blogging, vlogging and all the other grand techno-visions we’ve been learning about have been a lot to take on board.
Despite all fears to the contrary, it does look like my first website will be up and running soon (touching much virtual wood – I’m superstitious) and I’m even giving this blogging malarkey a try. I’m still not entirely sure what on earth I’ll write about, but I guess we’ll see where the trail leads.
Hopefully I may even find time to start reading again sometime soon, when this haze of deadlines passes. We’ve been pointed in the direction of Orwell who is one of my favourite writers and still the only author whose ‘collected works’ I have conquered (I think!).
Now I’m off to write a book review. Nothing like more more tap tap tapping......
First seminar at uni, our course leader gives a slightly satirical and very amusing definition of dinky life (double income no kids yet). I chuckled as, despite hating to be a marketing cliché, it wasn't a bad description of my life until three months ago. After years of working in recruitment in the city, I decided the time was right for a change. I’d studied English at uni eons ago, was tired of city life and really liked the idea of getting back to writing. Hence I’m entering a year of ‘zero income no kids yet’ territory.
It’s been fun so far! It’s great to be doing something intellectually stimulating again, if at times intimidating. The first few weeks have flown by in a whirlwind of new technology and new ideas, not to mention shorthand. The new ideas are great, the new technology has been scary. I’m one of those people who is enamoured by technology for the simple reason that its inner workings are like magic to me – I have no idea what’s going on to create those strange whirring sounds from my laptop! So building websites, blogging, vlogging and all the other grand techno-visions we’ve been learning about have been a lot to take on board.
Despite all fears to the contrary, it does look like my first website will be up and running soon (touching much virtual wood – I’m superstitious) and I’m even giving this blogging malarkey a try. I’m still not entirely sure what on earth I’ll write about, but I guess we’ll see where the trail leads.
Hopefully I may even find time to start reading again sometime soon, when this haze of deadlines passes. We’ve been pointed in the direction of Orwell who is one of my favourite writers and still the only author whose ‘collected works’ I have conquered (I think!).
Now I’m off to write a book review. Nothing like more more tap tap tapping......
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