Amateur journalism and blogging: friends or foes?

Having recently joined the National Amateur Press Association as a trial member to find out what the group was all about, I received their regular bundle of amateur journalists’ publications. I read through a few to get a feel for the organization’s ideals and goals, and one of the ones that caught my eye was The Prickler, published by Barry Schrader of DeKalb, Illinois.

Schrader asked the question, “Will blogging doom ‘Amateur Journalism’?” in a single-fold pamphlet, and I found myself curious.

After reading his June 2010 installment of The Prickler, it seems that Schrader believes:

… this new age of computing and online expression has had little or only marginal effect on the AJ groups. They continue in decline and seem to have lost their attractiveness to young people…”

According to Schrader, young people have little interest in the “old-timers” that make up the NAPA, and thus their club will eventually have to look to failed or thwarted “real” journalists to swell their ranks—people who “intended to become newspaper reporters, graphic designers or creative writers but were forced into different careers for economic or other reasons.”

This, to me, misses the whole point of blogging and digital publishing. After all, blogging is often referred to as “citizen journalism” by mainstream news media (who also, in my opinion, largely miss the point—but that’s another entry for another day), and bloggers are often afforded the same rights as “real” news media outlets, and then some. Odd, then, that Schrader would consider bloggers not to be amateur journalists, presumably because they do not pay dues to the NAPA (or the American Amateur Press Association, its more modern counterpart), or print their works on dead trees. If one sends out e-newsletters rather than “tree-newsletters” (as Sy Safransky of The Sun might call them), does this make one less of an amateur journalist? I would think not. But then, I suppose the entire argument really hinges on the definition of “journalism,” and the ways in which writers for the web currently perceive themselves.

Prior to my discovery of the NAPA, I never would have described myself as an amateur journalist. A journalist, perhaps, having at one point written a column for a newspaper, but certainly not an amateur. The description does, however, make sense. One who does not work for a professional publication but instead publishes for personal reasons, without formal training or schooling is, effectively, an amateur journalist. Bloggers, then, are for the most part amateur journalists. But if I publish a blog, and have never been to J-school, does this make me an amateur journalist by default, even though I have previously published a regular column in a newspaper? The distinction seems, to me, irrelevant, and by default casts aspersions on the whole concept of “amateur journalism” in our digital age.

Ultimately, I feel that blogging and amateur journalism do not compete for the same audience. Blogs are for those who enjoy reading or browsing material online, whereas amateur journalism is the type of hobby writing that appears most often in the form of annual holiday newsletters printed on special stationery. Is one better than the other? No, although one is certainly more easily accessible by strangers. Both may be home to great or terrible writing, and both may have their audiences and their detractors. I suppose, as a child of the Internet, I simply don’t see much attraction to spending my hard-earned money on printing things up for a limited audience when I can just go ahead and press “publish” on my blog for free.

In the end, I doubt I will end up joining the NAPA as a permanent member, not because I do not appreciate their efforts or enjoy their work, but because I prefer to join virtual communities as a blogger. I enjoy the ease of communication that the Internet affords us all (even when many of those easy communications turn out to be spam). I appreciate the comments readers leave on my blogs, no matter how few and far between, and I like being able to reach all of my friends at once with a few clicks of the keyboard and a post on Twitter that is instantly cross-posted to my Facebook account, spreading my work throughout the English-speaking world in a matter of nanoseconds. This instantaneous access is, I suspect, what originally drew most of us to the Internet, and what continues to hold us hostage to it. Can we really close the browser for good, when everyone is so effortless connected? It seems sacreligious to even suggest it.

And while I may occasionally wish I were a bit more inaccessible, taking a media holiday just to escape the inescapable, I really do love the Internet’s ability to bring people closer together through words and pictures and endlessly propagated memes. It’s quite amazing, really, when you stop to think about how it all works, and how my fingers typed these words only to transmit them directly to your brainpan a few minutes later. Sure, printed pages are nice, and I do hope to publish a real live book this fall, but blogging isn’t going to stop that from happening. (Well, not unless I never end this entry, anyway.)

What do you think? Are blogging and amateur journalism the same thing? Compatible? Incompatible? Friends or foes?

Farewell, Vixen

Bye-bye, Vixen

Bye-bye, Vixen

I’ve been trying to write the last installment of my “V for Vixen” column for the Hour. Basically, the deal is that they want to put two shorter columns in the space my column currently occupies. I’m not being laid off, exactly, as I was offered the opportunity to pitch another shorter version of the column (or an entirely different column) for one of those spaces, but I felt it was time to move on. I’ve been writing Vixen since October of 2007, and while I am still definitely interested in continuing to write about sex, love and relationships, I think I do need a different venue for those explorations.

I also need a break. I’m burnt out, and I feel like the things I’ve been writing lately haven’t been connecting with audiences very well. That’s probably because they’re not quite the things I’ve been wanting to write. How do you write about sex without being purely titillating? How do you write about sex in an intellectual way, without alienating over 90% of your readers? How do you share personal stories without over-sharing? What’s the point of sharing personal stories, anyway, if the only comment you receive is from some asshole who just wants to tear you down and make you feel bad about having written anything to begin with?

These are all challenges, not just for sex columnists, but for writers of all kinds. But I do think that sex writers are more easily pigeonholed than others, and that’s another source of frustration. Just because I write about sex does not mean I’m horny, easy, cheap, or morally bankrupt. It doesn’t mean I am a bad person, or that I was abused as a child. It doesn’t mean that I’m a sex worker, or that I want to fuck you. It doesn’t mean anything, really, except that it’s a subject I like to write about. Sometimes it’s fictional, sometimes it’s factual, but regardless, it’s me.

I can’t really escape the fact that I write about sex, that I’ve written about sex, that I will in all likelihood continue to write about sex. If that means people don’t want to hire me, so be it. I’ll go work somewhere else. And maybe that’s a good idea anyway, because writing about nothing but sex gets pretty old pretty quickly. It’s interesting, but I am also easily bored by routine; I like learning new things and finding new topics of interest.

So right now I am applying to get into graduate school, because I’d really like to write a novel. I have been starting and stopping novels for years, ever since I did my first NaNoWriMo, and I’m really bummed that I missed this year’s monthly writing marathon. I would like to write a novel, to edit a novel, to really and truly finish a novel, and see it go to print. If I get into this MFA program, that’s the goal. So I’ve got to finish up my writing samples and have those in by December 15.

I am still trying to find the right words for my last Vixen piece, because even though it’s kind of an ending, it’s also just the beginning. I don’t know where I will be writing, professionally, for the next little while, but I’ve still got Black Heart for all my filth and perversions. Check it out, if you haven’t already, and let me know what you think.

In the meantime, my last Vixen column is slated to run on December 17. Farewell, Vixen. It’s been swell.

Moving beyond the bedroom

Cartoon by Debbie Ridpath Ohi (via Inkygirl.com)

Cartoon by Debbie Ridpath Ohi (via Inkygirl.com)

I’ve been thinking about applying for an MFA program, lately, as it would afford me time to write a real novel. Not just a 30-day NaNoWriMo marathon novel, which is all about quantity over quality, but a real, honest-to-goodness time-consuming, thoughtfully-penned novel.

That, quite frankly, is both exhilarating and totally terrifying.

Part of the terrifying aspect is that, like any application for school, you’re supposed to write up a succinct cover letter detailing any awesome aspects you bring to the table, which would convince them that you’d be an asset and a credit to the program. You’re supposed to sell yourself. They want to know about honors you’ve achieved, fellowships/grants/scholarships you’ve been granted, people you’ve impressed.

Sometimes, I wonder whom I’ve really impressed, or what I have to show for the past two years of freelancing work. I’m not saying it hasn’t been fun, but it hasn’t exactly added up to the kind of career I used to dream about when I was a starry-eyed creative writing major. Mostly because I haven’t been doing much creative writing.

Hence my desire to keep up with my haiku-a-day project, to do NaNoWriMo, to take on the 3-day Novel Writing Contest, etc.

So I have been asked to think about my goals, my dreams, my future—as these little questions are meant to prod you to write something about those types of things—and I am wondering where I really aim to go these days. Although I certainly enjoy writing about sex, and probably will always have an interest (some might say obsession) with this area, it’s not necessarily the area I want to specialize in forever. It’s just one of many interests, and it’s very easy to get pigeonholed when you write a sex column and run an erotica website.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like to be someone with a life outside the bedroom, to not be boxed into my boudoir, no matter how comfy it may be. Now the only question is where to go from here?

Moving beyond the
bedroom can be challenging;
I like a challenge