This post could use a steak...

I edited the proofs for my Saturday cover story today.

As soon as I saw the cover, my jaw dropped a little. I’d had this vision in my head of what I expected it to look like, knowing full well that the final product would have a totally different design (that I was sure I’d love all the same.)

Nope. This thing looked eerily like what I had in mind, down to the placement of the Fairfield Gorget on the cover. The color scheme was even the same as the one I’d nebulously come up with on my own. Sure, I’ve done a lot of work from the production side of the desk, so I know how design works. But man, this bordered on spooky.

The “dream cover” seemed like a fitting conclusion to the creative process. As far as I know, I’m done. I’ve handed the reins over to the printer now, and it feels like everything’s so neatly wrapped up — so tidy, and so satisfying. The design looks fantastic. The story made it through the copy desk with blissfully minimal intervention. The pull quotes are perfect. The editing process with Liz was painless and extremely constructive. Her input helped streamline the copy tremendously, and she really helped me hammer out the kinks in the narrative. More than that, though, she forced me to cut through all the fat and marbled meat clinging to the edges of my story so I could find that nice, juicy steak. The steak was always there, but I couldn’t have found it without Liz’s advice and guidance. At least…it would’ve taken me a LOT longer.

So many times, stories start out vague. You’ll have a behemoth topic to tackle, a cumbersome story with too many twists and turns to navigate, or you’ll start pulling on a yarn to tell and you’ll realize the yarn just keeps going, and going, and going. And sometimes, the story’s so straightforward it’s impossible to write…like you can’t really capture what’s happening without looking at things from a different angle.

I wouldn’t be surprised if most of us experienced this exercise in high school or middle school: your English teacher gives you a minute or two to observe the classroom from your seat and tells you to write about it. Then, she’ll have you stand on top of your desks, or sprawl out on the floor, and you’re tasked with writing a new description from a new point of view.

For me, Advanced Reporting has been a multi-month saga of standing atop desks and sprawling out on floors. With our brilliant class, with the topics I’ve written about, with web shells, and with the critical thinking I’ve been expected to do on a regular basis, I’ve learned how to change perspective. And I think I’ve grown tremendously as a writer. I think we all probably have.

(You wouldn’t know it reading today’s blog, though, would you? I’ve got to get off this rambling blog kick.)

PROGRESS REPORT:
I spent most of this week editing proofs, fleshing out captions for the cover story, and generally getting all those ducks in a row. Tuesday, when I came into the newsroom to work with Kate on my web shell sewer story (thanks for helping me out, by the way, Kate!), Liz asked if I could write a brief on an event at the museum that linked in with the Saturday story. I had about half an hour but managed to knock it out. I had enough “stuff” that we decided to hold it, flesh it out and run it Thursday. Tomorrow, I’m getting started on a story breaking down historic theatres across the country that have undergone renovations. I’ll be linking that in with the Missouri Theatre — common obstacles, where the money went, how long it took to pay of the loans, etc. Should be a decent little read.