Always one enthusiastic for post, I picked up a letter today addressed from The Echo newspaper, for whom I occasionally write a column.
I pick up my post every three days or so. It doesn’t arrive through my door, which would be happy and delightful, but instead gets dropped, and often rammed, though a European-style post box near the lift in the apartment block in which I live.
The reason I generally give a three day delay is that nobody these days can write a letter, and even fewer can be bothered to post one. And so my normal pick-up contains a few circulars, between one and three bills, or perhaps nothing at all.
Predicting the mail has become like predicting the rising sun. Always intriguing, but absolutely predictable to the minute.
Today, the previously aforementioned letter from the Echo was dated the 30th of September. It was basically a notice saying I was fired.
Let me give you a little background…
Towards the end of last year The Echo ran a competition to find a new columnist. This was a movement made, I understand, by the acting Editor-In-Chief Jon Brown, who’s a decent fellow, judging on the times I’ve had dealings with him.
The competition involved writing a five hundred word column in the ‘Echo style’ that would be put forward against other amateur writers hoping to be the Echo’s new weekly columnist.
I submitted my entry, having always been keen to break into journalism, and a couple of months later, when sitting in a pub in Halifax, I picked up a voicemail from a friend saying, second hand, that I’d won the competition.
I was naturally delighted. I’d never won a competition in my life! In actuality, it turned out that I’d joint-won the competition. I received a conformation call from The Echo a day later congratulating me and stating that I was in fact one of five winners.
No matter! We were five winners out of apparently two thousand wannabe columnists… It was a big victory, and the beginning for five people in the dirty and fascinating world of print journalism.
The result of the five winner situation was that instead of writing a column every week (as the prize boasted) we would write a column every five weeks.
Two things struck me about this. Firstly, they had offered a new job to a weekly columnist. Surely by picking five worthy winners they were being five times less decisive?
Not only that, but it seemed that there was nobody at The Echo in an editorial role willing to make a final decision. To be… The Man.
Secondly, the job of a columnist is to develop a voice. To gain a readership. To get enemies.
How was this possible when you’d only get to enthral / infuriate the readership once every five weeks? If it was once a month you’d have something to build on. ‘Read him monthly in The Echo!’, etc.
But none the less the five of us submitted our columns dutifully once a week. We’ve no idea how they did, having never been given feedback, even when e-mailing the words straight into the Echo’s mouth. We were never even sure if the e-mails had arrived until we checked Thursday’s paper and saw our column brazen in gloriously type-setted ink.
It’s a huge thrill seeing your words in print. You presume no-body’s going to read it but given that the Echo has a readership of 300,000-odd, at least 5% MUST read the column, meaning that 15,000 do. That’s a massive thrill.
So there was no feedback. Not a word of criticism. Now, if you’re writing for a huge local newspaper which the Echo (for the time being, see below) continues to be, you’d expect experienced sub-editors to curse and damn your amateur, no good name until you learn to write a piece of copy which the cigar chomping editor might – just might – be satisfied with.
But no, it seemed that whatever we wannabeee columnists wanted to write was just fine, so long as it was delivered on time. Not that we were prompted or reminded. We had, I swear, not a single official communication with the paper.
Now, many of you reading this are faithful readers of The Echo I might guess? Perhaps you found this Blog though The Echo’s own website? Do you find it strange that amateurs have been writing for your paper without a hint of guidance from the editors?
And I do stress, not ONE e-mail or phone call.
I thought, up until reading the letter, that we’d been working so hard on supplying such perfect columns that they felt no need to give any criticism. But I also intrinsically new that this was impossible – newspaper journalism is a craft, no matter how easy it looks - and so they’d either not been reading them or been so lazy in their sub-editing that they’d not worry about correcting any of our amateur words.
I’m a huge fan of print media. Newspapers have helped form the backbone on civilised 19th and 20th Century life and it was thrilling to involved with them, even in so minor a way.
But they’re dying. And quite rightly they’re dying. The Internet will bring about the death of newspapers and it’s not only the World Wide Web throwing arrows into the fire, it’s the reformatted media age we’re living through.
The technology is available in Dixon’s now, but for most of us will be standard within five years. What the (various powers) have done is remove the need for newspapers when you want either the news, or sport, a crossword, or some irreverent humour.
“But I’ll never give up the joy of holding a newspaper!� we cry! “They are so easy to carry around! I love them if only for the fact I don’t have to click a damn mouse to get at my information…�
I’m 100% with you on that. I LOVE newspapers. On a good day, they are as dangerous, as compelling, and as cuddly as your most lovable pet, or your favourite album.
But look at music albums. Right now, we’re still buying CD’s. But only some of us. Only 70% of us! In 5 years that will be 30% of us, given the current incredible forecast. It’ll be 70% download by 2010.
In five years, there will be 30% less sales of newspapers. I agree with these forecast figures because I’m one on the dissenters. I don’t buy a daily newspaper anymore. I look at the BBC’s online front page. It is, after all, up to date.
The Echo, one of the strongest regional newspapers, can’t take a 30% fall. It’s circulation is already parachuting along with every other daily paper without exception. Soon it will be plummeting.
So – here are the cold facts. The Echo will no longer exist in it’s present form in five years. It may not exist in print form after 15 to 20. It’s poor current staff will be thrown mercilessly into the Mersey month after month and it’s current idiot management hung or starved before 2015.
I completely understand the financial decisions to cancel the ‘Pen Idol’ column, (of which I was one of the five winners, and one of the five to be sacked). They need to cut costs that don’t affect permanent staff. It’s a rational decision if you look at it like that.
But during the lad’s night out I enjoyed on Tuesday, one experienced and talented Echo journalist and columnist were amongst our number. His column had just been cancelled too. And he, unlike us amateurs, was good.
So the future is online. And who have they recently asked to write an online Blog, without payment, to boost their oddly named icLiverpool site?
Well, me! The person who’s column they’ve just cancelled.
Don’t worry, I’m not bitter at the cancellation of the column. It was rather a joy to see my opinions put to page once every five weeks but, trust me, the money was pathetic. We’re talking less than you’d spend in the pub of a night.
But an interesting question arises… Surely I can’t continue with this Blog for the benefit of The Echo? It’s not so much the cancellation of the column I mind but the informal letter I received to inform me of it. They should know, by now, of my love for personal post…
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