I'm reading "Fear and Self-Loathing in Las Vegas," Zach Baron's attempt to resurrect that really infamous trip across Nevada that Hunter Thompson made years ago.
I admit, I read "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." I read it sober. I even wrote a review of it for some magazine or newspaper. I still don't remember much about the book, which is saying something considering how insanely epic it's supposed to be. It's pretty unlikely I'll ever do any of the stuff that Thompson describes, so there was an excellent example of things worth learning but not from your own experience.
But the book remains one of my favorite glimpses into the craft of journalism.
Recently, when Edith Zimmerman wrote about Chris Evans in GQ in a similar manner, the comments ranged from "Edith let's be friends" to "worst interview EVER. YOU'RE FIRED." There wasn't much middle ground.
But the really interesting thing about both Hunter and Edith which you've got to admire is the way that they unabashedly pull really entertaining, mold-breaking articles literally out of the heaped-up ashes of last night. Let's be frank: going on an epic bender is considered, by most people, not the ideal way to report a story. And yet - it's the bizarre mental machinations of truly weird people that sometimes rescue stories from the actual rubbish pile of the mundane (consider David Foster Wallace).
Journalists, by their nature, are adventure-seekers, which is a great thing but it's actually sometimes at odds with what we do for a living, and nothing embodies this more perfectly than "routine assignments." There are a million interesting things one can do on a routine assignment, but your editors don't want you to write about any of them. They don't even want you to do any of them.
There's also a temptation - particularly in this fast-paced Internet world we live in - to confess. The heady upper reaches of the confessional urge resemble nothing so much as the frantic first rush of a love affair, and satisfying for the same reason: it's wonderful to empty yourself out into the world, however briefly. (What you expect in return is, of course, the unfortunate side effect)
Perhaps when Christiane Amanpour said "live more bravely" she should have said "live more" and left it at that.
Anyway, there's really not a lot of thought in this blog post, just a few links to articles and some thoughts on how journalists maybe shouldn't be so shy to let it all hang out a bit more. Within reason. With purpose. I mean, there's a difference between the New York Times and Texts From Last Night. Right? Right?
I admit, I read "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." I read it sober. I even wrote a review of it for some magazine or newspaper. I still don't remember much about the book, which is saying something considering how insanely epic it's supposed to be. It's pretty unlikely I'll ever do any of the stuff that Thompson describes, so there was an excellent example of things worth learning but not from your own experience.
But the book remains one of my favorite glimpses into the craft of journalism.
Recently, when Edith Zimmerman wrote about Chris Evans in GQ in a similar manner, the comments ranged from "Edith let's be friends" to "worst interview EVER. YOU'RE FIRED." There wasn't much middle ground.
But the really interesting thing about both Hunter and Edith which you've got to admire is the way that they unabashedly pull really entertaining, mold-breaking articles literally out of the heaped-up ashes of last night. Let's be frank: going on an epic bender is considered, by most people, not the ideal way to report a story. And yet - it's the bizarre mental machinations of truly weird people that sometimes rescue stories from the actual rubbish pile of the mundane (consider David Foster Wallace).
Journalists, by their nature, are adventure-seekers, which is a great thing but it's actually sometimes at odds with what we do for a living, and nothing embodies this more perfectly than "routine assignments." There are a million interesting things one can do on a routine assignment, but your editors don't want you to write about any of them. They don't even want you to do any of them.
There's also a temptation - particularly in this fast-paced Internet world we live in - to confess. The heady upper reaches of the confessional urge resemble nothing so much as the frantic first rush of a love affair, and satisfying for the same reason: it's wonderful to empty yourself out into the world, however briefly. (What you expect in return is, of course, the unfortunate side effect)
Perhaps when Christiane Amanpour said "live more bravely" she should have said "live more" and left it at that.
Anyway, there's really not a lot of thought in this blog post, just a few links to articles and some thoughts on how journalists maybe shouldn't be so shy to let it all hang out a bit more. Within reason. With purpose. I mean, there's a difference between the New York Times and Texts From Last Night. Right? Right?
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