How the Media Failed in the Jerry Sandusky Child Abuse Tragedy

When I was in college, studying journalism, the point was made over and over and over again that a good journalist is objective, focuses on the real story, and keeps to the facts. I remember the first time my reporting class went to a school board meeting. Almost all of us came away writing a story that was discussed the longest. If that was thing everyone was focusing on, that was main story, right?

Wrong, said my professor, as he docked our grades for reporting on knee-jerk reaction. Just because a story has an emotional reaction doesn't mean that's the story. He then pointed out the most newsworthy item of the night -- that one student actually wrote about, if I recall -- that would impact the school district deeply for a long time.

I didn't stay a journalism major past that year because the type of writing and reporting I wanted to do was better served through the English writing major. Nor did I envision myself being the type of person who could go up to a woman in tears to get her reaction on the death of her child or butt myself into someone's tragedy. But the lessons I learned in those journalism classes have stayed with me all these years.

I should also add that I'm a news and sports junkie. I will spend hours each night watching news and sports shows. I read newspapers and news/sports magazines. I visit several news/sports sites each day online. You all can have American Idol and Jersey Shore. I prefer my reality TV to be honest-to-goodness reality.

And then the Jerry Sandusky sex abuse scandal. As I watched the news unfold, I could feel the world crumble around me. I was horrified for the young men who allegedly suffered. But I also felt tremendous pain for my university and for my community. Those of you who are not part of the Penn State or State College communities don't know how this story is tearing us apart, so don't pretend that you do or get all moralistic because we are having intense emotional reactions that you don't agree with or understand.

Yet, I also mourn the loss of the media that I once wanted to be a part of and good journalistic ethics. I mourn the loss of journalists and news outlets that is objective, focuses on the real story, and keeps to the facts. It is like that school board story all over again -- the story with the greatest emotional reaction is rarely the primary point.

The news media around the globe have dubbed this the Penn State scandal. Except, it isn't. It is a child abuse tragedy that centers on a former employee of Penn State and some actions that allegedly involved the Penn State campus and perhaps other employees. Many of the stories of the accusers (which is what they are until the case goes to trial) take place in locations beyond Penn State.

But by dubbing this a Penn State scandal, the media can devote much of their time to the real emotional base of the story -- Joe Paterno. He is a world-famous name and face. He is a "legend" and an "icon" -- a fact, which every single story I've read insists on reminding us. Then the media decided to create their own scandal to go along with the crucifixtion of Paterno: he did not live up to his moral authority, according to the Grand Jury report.

Let the sensationalism begin.

As I watched the witch hunt (and yes, that's how we think of it here) began, I began to wonder why the news media wasn't reporting the following:

-- that the Grand Jury report was just that, a report. It is not the full Grand Jury testimony. Nor is the Grand Jury a trial. It is a means of gathering enough information to decide whether or not a case should go to a judge and jury trial. It is one, very incomplete side of the story. Yet, I can point to only one news story or broadcast that emphasized that. Hence,

-- no one knows the true story. Matt Millen said it best: we don't know what we think we know. Here's an example for you: Yesterday, I stopped off for a hoagie, went to a volleyball game, cheered on my team to a win, and then came home. Do you know what kind of hoagie I had? Where I watched the game? What the final score was? Or what I did after I came home? Based on what I just told you, of course not, and you probably wouldn't bother to make any assumptions. The Grand Jury report doesn't give a second by second time line of everything. Nor has anyone in the media bothered to investigate how long police or other officials are required to keep documents on file.

-- Joe Paterno was not the most powerful person at Penn State, nor was Graham Spanier beloved by the Penn State community. Spanier was the king of kings around here since he showed up in the mid-90s, and folks who work at Penn State will tell you that quite bluntly. "I'm not sorry to see Spanier gone," is a common refrain in these parts. Paterno had power, to be sure, and he had it long before 1982, as one ESPN writer claimed. But Spanier usurped him supremely. But Spanier isn't as sexy a story as Joe. It's too bad the media only decided to report the "Joe is mean and powerful" anecdotes, because if you live in State College long enough, you have your own personal dealings with the man and I'd say most of them are positive.

-- the real story of the "riots" downtown on the night Joe was fired. A little investigation would have shown, first and foremost, that a vigil was in the works from the get-go. I had invites in my Facebook mailbox on Sunday night and Monday morning. The word was being passed fast and furious. Secondly, eyewitness accounts talk about police brutality, like innocent people who were walking home from an evening out and followed police directions ending up pepper sprayed. (Yet, at the same time, the same actions by police in the Occupy movement were condemned.) Thirdly, other eyewitness accounts discuss the media inciting the actions of the students. A local news outlet showed a press conference with the State College chief of police who stated some media outlets were reporting riot-like incidents BEFORE they happened and this was being investigated. I've searched and searched for other outlets reporting the same thing, and found nothing.

-- what Penn State students do for kids. In the rush to judge them as selfish, hateful, only caring about the football team, no one bothered to mention the millions of dollars and thousands of hours the students give to helping children. I invite every single critic to return in February to witness THON. If you aren't moved by that, you have a heart of stone. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Has anyone bothered to mention the nearly $500K that students and alumni raised in less than a month in support of victims of sexual abuse?

-- what really happened at Central Mountain. If we are to go by only the Grand Jury report, two coaches at Central Mountain High School witnessed alleged abuse and didn't report it to anyone. School officials allegedly allowed Sandusky to come into the building and take kids out of class, without parental permission. None of this was known until Accuser #1's mother went to the police. Note that the Grand Jury does not mention that any school administrator went to the police. Again, this isn't the sexy emotional stoy, but it is a media double standard when it comes to reporting.

-- everybody who is anybody in Centre County has a connection with Second Mile and after deriding one judge for her volunteer with the charity, didn't bother to report that all of the county judges recused themselves from the case. For the same reason. State College is really a small rural town with one primary employer -- Penn State. Many of the businesses that have been built up here were started by former Penn State employees or alumni. For many years, I've likened this to an old-fashioned company town. Everything is intertwined. You can't separate Penn State from anything. Second Mile is unique because of its strong football ties, but many of us in the community supported helping at-risk kids. Penn State is involved in a lot of other charities, like the United Way. You can't easily disconnect the community at large and the University.

-- the vast majority of the "children" accusers are now adults. Some of them may be Penn State students and alumni. They might watch the news or ESPN regularly. They might be football fans and season ticket holders, and maybe they were protesting on Old Main lawn. For all the protestations of "thinking of the victims," have the media ever once considered what their reporting is doing to the victims' mental well being? (No, ratings are all that count.)

Instead, I've read articles where the media try to create stories and draw an even stronger emotional reaction (hatred) from the public at large. Just look at all the conspiracy theories that have come up about Gricar. I've come to question the validity of many of the articles; in fact, many of them are just littered with inaccuracies. "Experts" are interviewed to give their opinions and condemn the people who were made central the story and condemn the community, but the "experts" don't know any more than the rest of us, and they certainly don't grasp the Penn State community.

If I lived somewhere else and this happened to a different school, I would probably buy into everything being reported and have very negative feelings too. How could I not, based on the information I've been fed? There are some voices stepping forward to say "let me explain the Penn State I know," but they are either trampled down or vilified in the comment section. I know I've tried to explain that the media haven't been reporting fairly or always truthfully, but I got shouted down and have been accused of all kinds of horrific acts.

A few days into the news of the tragedy, a news anchor I once respected discounted a lawyer who was the lone voice I heard who tried to explain the Grand Jury report, and the reporter brushed off her comments, saying that all that counts is public opinion. Rather than thanking the lawyer for providing perspective, the news anchor brushed off her comments as unimportant, that mob rule was supreme.

I can no longer trust the media to report the news. I know a lot of people will point out that this has been the case for many years, and they are probably right. But now I have proof. It makes me sad. I haven't totally weaned myself off the news because it is important to be informed. But now I only read the first paragraph or two to get the basic gist of the story because I can't believe anything that comes after. I stopped watching the news pundit shows. I stopped watching Sports Center and will not be renewing my subscriptions to Sports Illustrated or ESPN the Magazine because I can't read either one anymore without wondering how many lies and half-truths they are spouting.

Many people have asked me why I'm not out there reporting on the story. For one reason: I can't be objective. And I was taught, if you can't be objective, you can't be a good reporter.

So Many Books, So Little Time

I believe Thomas Jefferson said that. Whoever said it described my world to a tee. I am addicted to books. I love to buy them, to own them, to read them. I buy them new. I buy them used. My house is littered with books.

Hence, the problem for me is to decide what book to read at any given time. When book group makes a pick, then my choice is easy -- I read that book as soon as I get my hands on it. But I read quickly, and I need something else to fill the weeks in between book group picks. So I head to the shelves in my library (or in the spare bedroom, or in my office) and say, "Hm, what should I read next."

This year, I decided to go on a rotation of books -- mainstream fiction, non-fiction, and literature. But again, that leaves the whole "what the heck should I pick?" question. I can take days to decide, and then sometimes I'll end up just pulling something off the shelf because I want a quick read while I make my "real" decision.

So I decided to try something new. I wrote down two lists: one of literature I want to read or re-read this year. The other was of non-fiction I want to read. I thought about making a fiction list, but that will likely come from book group stuff and the mind candy novels I'll pull out to rest my brain. I cut up the lists into small pieces of paper and tossed them into different otherwise unused coffee mugs. This is going to be the way I choose books if I don't really know what I want to read.

I'm finishing a Bill Bryson memoir now and next up is literature. I reached into the mug. I shuffled the papers, and what do I pull out? My old standby, my very favorite book ever written.

Last weekend, I read a novel that I randomly pulled off the shelf because I wanted to read some mind candy and I had never read it before, and it ended up being a book that spoke to me at a very deep, intense level. Now I pull out one of my comfort books, a novel I return to every couple of years because it is like an old friend I need to revisit. I almost put the slip of paper back in the mug to pull another one because I kind of wanted to read something I haven't. But that's not how this game is going to work, so I put the slip of paper down and pulled the book off the shelf.

And you know, based on everything that has happened around here recently, this is the perfect time to visit with that old friend.

Writing for Fun

Some years ago, I was at a party and was introduced to a friend's then boyfriend. He was the son of a relatively famous musician. The guy wanted to think of himself as a musician, too, but he made his living as a writer. That's why I was introduced to the guy. Even though I wasn't in a job where I was writing full time, I had just begun to pick up some freelance work, and I spent a lot of my time working on my crappy fiction.

So, when I met this guy, it was very obvious writing was NOT what he wanted to talk about (something I totally get now), but when he heard I made some money writing, he seemed to relax a little. I think he even gave me his card because he said he sometimes needed freelancers. But then I asked him what kind of writing he did for fun.

"Didn't you hear me?" he sneered. "I write for a job. There is nothing fun about it. You should know that. I play music for fun. Writing is work." At that he rolled his eyes at me, and I had a few choice thoughts about his arrogance as I walked away from him. At the time I thought how could anybody claim to be a writer and not have writing they do for fun?

Now that I'm writing full time, I think about this guy every so often, and I came to this conclusion about him. First, he was jealous of his dad's success and thought it was due to him by birthright. Second, he wasn't a writer. He was a guy who wrote for a living because he could follow the formula and put the words in all the right places.

I thought about him the other day, after I read a book by Elizabeth Berg, called Home Safe. Had I not been a fan of Berg's, I would have hoped it was a book about baseball, but I knew it would be about a woman searching for the meaning of her life. Which it was. What I didn't know the woman would be a writer, searching for her desire to write again after her husband's death. As I read the book -- in one afternoon because I couldn't put it down -- it made me want to write. It made me miss writing.

Which is kind of funny because I write almost every single day. Six days a week, I have to write a short assignment and send it off to an editor. And then there are the longer articles I do regularly. So how on earth can I miss writing?

I miss fun writing. I miss doing the free writing exercises I did with a friend, some that turned into essays that got published. I miss writing essays, where I could just let my brain wander until it found the right story to tell. Mostly I miss writing crappy fiction, where I create characters and their dilemmas, taking up my life frustrations with pretend people. I don't worry about anyone reading my fiction because it is really really bad. But I love writing it. It makes me happy, really truly happy. And fulfilled in ways my writing job doesn't and never will.

So I gave myself a goal for this summer. On Friday afternoons, whenever I possibly can, I am going to free my afternoon to write for fun. Because as I read that book, I was reminded, I am a writer, someone who happens to also write for a living.

Hats off to WAHMs with Little Kids

I've had my grandson all week. I purposely decided to limit my work load -- the blessings of being a freelance writer -- but the little bit of work I had to do during the day has been, well, interesting. I try to get those little chores done with interruptions of "Granny, I need 'stachios"; "Granny, I need a 'nack"; "Granny, can I pway wif you fwogs?" And so on.

Don't get me wrong. I love the little guy to pieces and we've had a lot of fun this week. We've been to the park, to the library, to the bookstore, to the Y swimming pool, and so on. We're watching Penn State play basketball now. But trying to get work done? I thought about writing at night, but by the time I get him to bed and read him 5 stories and then wait to see if he will be wandering back downstairs . . . well, by then I'm too exhausted to write and have vegged out with a novel.

So my hats are off to moms who work from home with toddlers and preschoolers around. That we as parents survive the years until the kids starts school shows that parents really can survive anything.

Who Do You Support: The Author or Local Business

As it is summer and the college students are out of town, the local media need to have something to focus on. Their choice this summer: a used bookstore/cafe was being kicked out of its location because the owner had problems paying her lease. Her plight was immediately championed by her customers who were holding fundraisers and letter-writing campaigns to save the business.

Frankly, when I heard the news, I wasn't surprised. Now, I love bookstores and I love cafes in bookstores, and I'm the kind of customer bookstore/cafe owners love -- I rarely leave without buying a book. But I thought this was one of the most unfriendly places in town. The people who'd sit outside for hours drinking coffee were a little scary. Getting waited on inside was nearly impossible if you weren't a regular (and I heard stories from enough people who said they waited at the counter -- not in line but right at the counter -- for 10-15 minutes before getting someone to even acknowledge them). The set-up of the tables wasn't conducive to working with any kind of privacy. And the worst part was the way tables and chairs were set up in the stacks of books meant to be bought. The few times lately I've gone in there to look for a hard-to-find, out-of-print book, I was blocked by someone having coffee and on a computer in front of a whole bookcase. It was very awkward. Based on letters and comments on websites, I'm not the only one who had this reaction to the store.

A friend, knowing how much I love bookstores, was surprised when I said I didn't shop there and didn't care one way or the other. She said, "I thought you'd be someone who supports local businesses."

Last week at our book group meeting, my friend announced that she bought the book at used bookstore at its going out of business sale, everything half off. "I bought it for $5," she said. Which meant it was selling for $10, normally. I bought a new copy via an online bookstore for $10, no shipping costs. While I wasn't supporting the local store, I was supporting the author.

And there is the dilemma. I don't have a problem with buying used books -- especially when they are out of print or very hard to find new or if the profits of the book's sale is staying local in some way, like the used book store. I do have a problem, though, when I walk into a used book store and the owner is selling the book at the same cost of a new book, or close to it, and I could help an author out with a royalty. (Okay, truth is, I am so ridiculously picky about my books that I prefer new anyway; cost isn't the issue for me.)

Another friend argued that I only feel that way because I'm a writer and I published books, and that I should focus on saving a local business. Yet, I felt the local business was ripping off authors. And even if I'm buying the new book from a chain store located in town, aren't I still helping the local economy?

It balances out to an ethical dilemma, at least for this writer -- do I support the local bookstore, the only one left in town that isn't a major chain, or do I make sure the author gets a tally toward the royalty?

Following Directions

I used to like flying. Not so much anymore for all the reasons other people don't like flying -- the hassles of TSA and the dumb changes in the airlines and the packed planes. On the flights I took this past week, though, I am adding another reason to the list: passengers who are above following directions.

Every plane was packed full. Before you got on board, it was announced to please PLEASE put small bags under the seat to save on bin space. The flight attendants kept reminding passengers to do that when people were going to their seat.

Yeah, I'm sure you can figure it out. Those requests and directions are for other people, not the special people on my planes.

Well, call me cranky, but I was in no mood to put up with the special people. My carry on suitcase is small and fits nicely into the bin. My bag with books, etc. fits perfectly under the seat. But I couldn't fit my suitcase into the bin because some moron had put his tiny backpack, maybe filled with some extra underwear and toothpaste, into the bin. Like I said, I was cranky. I pulled it out and asked who it belonged to. A 60something man in a jacket and nice pants turned around. I asked if there was room under the seat for it. He scowled and said yes. I tossed it to him and said, "You were asked to put it there in the first place so we could all have access to the bins." He gave me the hairy eyeball, but I gave it right back to him. The flight attendant smiled at me. My seatmate whispered, "Good for you." Hell, the guy had so little in that backpack that it would have fit on top of my suitcase with ease.

Had I not said something, the flight attendant would have. It may have been the first time where I saw flight attendants taking backpacks, purses, and the like out of the bins and telling the owner to put it under the seat.

On one of the flights home, the people sharing the row with me put their suitcases in sideways, taking up twice the space, because they were a) stuffed too full and b) stuck. I told the gentleman (using the term loosely)that he needed to put his suitcase in straight, not sideways. He growled at me and said he'd do what he pleased, besides the suitcase didn't fit if he did it that way. I said, "It doesn't fit because you are trying to stuff it in against the latches." He started to growl at me until I showed him how to get his suitcase in the bin without hogging all the space. But the point is, had I not shown him, he had no desire to figure it out. He and his wife were going to take all of the space in one bin with their two suitcases. And again, the flight attendants went down the aisle and made passengers fix their bags to be more considerate.

There is enough to be annoyed with when flying. I just don't get why the passengers have to add to that annoyance by their selfishness with storing their belongings or following simple directions.

Oh the irony

Let it be noted that I am NOT a fan of Oprah. Don't watch her, don't pay any particular attention to what she says. But yesterday at the gym, I forgot to take a magazine, so I went to the cardio room's magazine rack. It looks like a doctor's office -- a bunch of magazines, most of them old and beat up. The only one I hadn't read was Oprah's (well, it was between that and a magazine about hunting and guns, and it was a tough choice). O won because I was intrigued by her summer reading recommendations. I'm always curious to see what books get highlighted (rarely anything I would read).

As I said I'm not a fan of the Goddess of Lake Michigan, I don't pay much attention to her book club. If I pick up something with the sticker on it, it is because I like the author or had wanted to read the book on its own merits. The only time I read a book because someone tells me to is for my own book group or for English classes. But it's no secret her picks become super best sellers. I can't tell you, though, how many times someone has read one of the picks but said, "I really couldn't stand the book, but I must be wrong."

So I get to this article on recommended summer books, and in the very first paragraph the writer tells the reader that everybody has different tastes in books and that's okay! I laughed out loud right there on the treadmill. For years, Oprah has touted her favorite books like the Pied Piper and the rats, I mean the audience, lined up to buy it. Because if Oprah says it is good, it is good. (Now I think it would have been more interesting if a random audience member was allowed to pick the next book.)

The author of the article is right, of course. We should all embrace our reading differences. No problem in trying something new but life is too short to waste it on something you don't think you'll like.

Although I may take up one of the suggestions. Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens. It's been on my shelf forever and it's about time I read some Dickens again. Or maybe I'll read Bleak House. Or Nicholas Nickleby. Or reread Copperfield for the millionth time. Because that's what I like.

Positive Signs

To say the past year has been bleak is an understatement. I'd market my little heart out with little to show for it besides a mailbox filled with "no freelance budget now" responses.

But on this latest query challenge, I'm getting positive responses. Maybe my marketing techniques are a little different, but I've been getting good vibes from my old methods. This can only be good signs for the writing industry -- right?

Let the Challenge Begin

Today is the first day of the summer query challenge. For 8 weeks, I, along with dozens of my fellow writers, will ramp up our marketing efforts to improve our client base.

I admit, marketing is my least favorite part of the job, but it is the most essential if I want to continue putting food on the table. The query challenge helps me focus on the marketing. I found many of my best clients through the challenge in years past.

Who will be my next best clients?

Long Hard Week

I'm not the type of person whose life revolves around my pet. I would never in a million years take my dog to work (well, if I worked in an office with other people) or to the ballpark (Bark at the Park may be baseball's stupidiest innovation yet, and that's saying a lot) or shopping or all of the other places people insist on taking their pets. I was not my dog's mommy; the dog was not my child.

But this week has been an adjustment as I try to get used to this new life without her in the house. 17 years is a long time. Over the past five years I worked at home, we had our routines. One of the routines was putting her outside for a few minutes before an interview and then letting her back in before I got on the phone. I had interviews scheduled on Monday, and both times, I went out to the kitchen to let the dog out. Except she wasn't there. I still take a giant step over the spot on the floor where she'd sleep.

It will get easier and the routine will shake itself out. But this has been a long, hard week.

Good-bye Old Friend

The happiness of Hump Day was short lived. My beloved little office staff took a quick turn for the worse on Thursday and she passed away Friday morning.

Baseball and Hockey

I love sports. That's putting it mildly.

Last night I was watching the 3rd game in the Stanley Cup finals when I got a text on my phone. My son, who was watching the game at a sports bar/restaurant, wanted to let me know that a Detroit Tigers pitcher had taken a perfect game through the 8th inning. Perfect games are rare -- only 20 in all over the 120+ years of major league baseball. Yet perfect game #19 came on Mother's Day and perfect game #20 came on May 29. That in itself is unuaual. Two in one year? And now we were 3 outs away from 3 perfect games in less than a month.

I flipped from the hockey game to MLB Network (greatest network ever) to watch the 9th inning. First batter, a solidly hit ball that was heading for the gap, surely a double until the center fielder came out of nowhere and caught it. Second batter, ground ball to an infielder, easy out. Third batter, ground ball to the gray area between the first and second basemen. First baseman fields it. Pitcher is cover the bag. He beats the runner. Out. Perfect Game!

Except the only person who didn't see an out was the person who counted. The umpire. Who for reasons totally unknown called the runner safe. This wasn't a bang-bang play where the call could have gone either way. This was obviously an out. The umpire blew it. The pitcher got the next batter out, game over, 1 hit shut out, pretty impressive. Except the Tiger personnel went ballistic on the umpire. Everyone but the pitcher who had a bemused smile on his face. Later, the umpire saw the replay, saw what he did, and apologized, in tears, to the pitcher.

Baseball fans everywhere cried out that the call should be overturned. I'm a baseball purist -- hate the DH, hate interleague, hate the goofy softball shirts teams wear on Sundays, not a fan of instant replay -- and I thought it should be overturned. The call didn't change the outcome of the game. That's the important thing and I'll repeat it. The call didn't change the outcome of the game. But Bud Selig, worst commissioner ever, said no, call stands. Tom Verducci at Sports Illustrated agreed with Selig and said you can't change what happened in the past.

Verducci and Selig don't watch hockey. After that call, I turned the hockey game back on. The Flyers appeared to score a goal -- the puck clearly crossed the goal line -- but it was pulled back out and play continued. Hockey reviews goals and the fans in Philly (and the one on my couch and the one texting me) were screaming for the review. But the announcers reminded us that the goal wouldn't be reviewed until play stopped naturally. And sure enough, as soon as it did, the goal was reviewed and the official said that it was, indeed, a goal, point Flyers. Then the time that elapsed during that period of time was put back on the clock. It never happened. The past was changed.

The contrasts are quite remarkable, aren't they?

Happy Hump Day

I thought I was losing my office staff this morning.

My dog, who spends her days in my office with me, woke up in a pool of blood. She's 17, awfully old for a dog. The husband took her to the vet because I couldn't bear the idea of having to put her down. She's too old to take any real drastic measures, you know? I didn't expect to ever see her again.

But there she was, running across the kitchen floor for the door to go outside. She has a gum problem, which caused the bleeding. She needs some medical care, but the vets said for such an old dog, despite being blind and having back legs that don't work so well any more, she's surprisingly healthy and there was no reason to put her to sleep.

So she's back to her position on the office floor, snoring away. And I couldn't be happier to share my office.

In Common

I never thought I'd have anything in common with Rachel Maddow besides some shared political ideology. But last night, I recognized the woman project manager she interviewed at the new World Trade Center construction. I interviewed the same woman 9 years ago about her experience of being on the site when the first plane hit the towers.

I loved her Nittany Lion logo on her hard hat, too.

My Day

Today was one of those days I was thrilled to work at home. I slept in a little later than usual because I needed the sleep.

The temps got into the 80s. I wore a tank top and shorts and didn't have to worry about freezing in air conditioning.

At lunchtime, I went outside and found ripe strawberries in the backyard patch, so I had an unexpected treat today.

In the afternoon, I took a glass of peach tea and my notebook and sat at the picnic table to do some writing.

In the evening, I took advantage of an empty house to write up two IT blog posts that are actually due for tomorrow and Monday, clearing my work calendar so I can take the day off. The day off is spur of the moment. I didn't need to get anyone's permission to do it.

One last task, to finish an article that has stymied me for a week. I have a glass of wine, hoping that unblocks my brain.

I love being a writer in the summer. I love working for myself all the time. No way I could have had my day 5 years ago, when I worked in an office.

Opportunities

I admit right up front that what I've experienced isn't even close to what other writers have experienced. Like my friend, who, for an assignment, went on a bourbon tasting tour or got to tour the new large cruise ships.

But one of the most beautiful things about life as a writer is that no two days are the same. Heck, no two hours are the same. Like today, I interviewed two people for the same article but got very different responses, wrote a blog on security issues in Google applications, and worked on my volleyball story. Tomorrow will be totally different.

Plus there are chances to do real cool things. I've gone on some conferences, including a cruise to the Bahamas, which allowed me to visit places I've never visited before. Last week, I got to meet a former NFL player from the old Colts and talk to some coaches I really admire.

On Saturday I went to a party and was able to talk about baseball, wind turbines, sustainable construction practices, religion, and the history of a local brewery, all because I wrote about these things in the past -- and trust me, it freaks people out when you can flip from wind turbines to beer without blinking an eye.

I couldn't imagine having to go to a regular job where I do the same thing day in, day out anymore.

My book is now available

Always exciting news to announce. My book, 29 Things to Know about Catholicism, is now listed as "In Stock" on Amazon and other book seller sites. It's a handy guide for folks who would like to know more about the Catholic faith -- especially good for anyone who has Catholic friends and family and wonders "why do they do that?" The best part -- this purse-sized book is only $10!

I have a Facebook fan page set up for the book. Feel free to join.

We Interrupt This Blog . . .

. . . to celebrate the Flyers first trip to the Stanley Cup since 1997.

Another Saturday

Full social schedule this weekend. Pleasant morning has turned ugly and cold. I'd like to watch hockey and baseball, but I'm not sure how much that will all fit into today's plans otherwise. In any case, I'm taking today off from work.

Enjoy your Saturday, all.

A major goal reached

From the time I started freelancing, my goal was to be successful enough to have my membership application to ASJA approved.

In general, I think I'm fairly successful. I have work. I have lots of repeat clients. What I don't have are the "glamour" publications to my credit. Mostly I write for trades, not consumer pubs. It is rare when you'll find a magazine with my name on it on your newstand.

But in the fall, I got a second book contract, and my credits began to increase. My writing pal encouraged me to hold my nose and jump in the deep end -- send my application.

Word came back today: congratulations, you're in!

I finally feel like I'm an honest to goodness real professional writer now.