Columnist Wins Discrimination Lawsuit

Posted on | November 5, 2015 | No Comments

By Kelly Puente, staff writer, Orange County Reg­is­ter, 11/5/2015

A Los Ange­les County Supe­rior Court jury on Wednes­day awarded $7.1 mil­lion to for­mer Los Ange­les Times sports colum­nist T.J. Simers, who con­tended he was

T.J. Simers Photo by Nick Koon staff photographer

T.J. Simers
Photo by Nick Koon
staff pho­tog­ra­pher

pushed out of his decades-long career because of his dis­abil­ity and age.

The colum­nist, 65, sued the Times in 2013, claim­ing he was fired after he suf­fered a minor stroke while cov­er­ing the Dodgers’ and Angels’ spring train­ing in Arizona.

The jury got it right in this type of case,” said his attor­ney, Car­ney Shegerian. “Mr. Simers has had a long, amaz­ing career at the Times, and his columns and arti­cles were phe­nom­e­nal until he had this on-the-job mini stroke in Arizona.”

Read more here.

Writer’s Lifeguard: Bear with Me

Posted on | October 27, 2015 | No Comments

By Jules Older, Oct. 27, 2015

This oppor­tu­nity comes from Ver­mont Life­guard, Joe Healy. If you’ve had a bear expe­ri­ence, it may be for you ….


I’m edit­ing an anthol­ogy of bear-attack sto­ries, or close calls, and look­ing for sto­ries. Any species of bear is okay. The pub­lisher will pay for the stories—an hon­o­rar­ium, in any case, as this is a col­lected anthol­ogy. And the accepted authors will get a byline in a book. The project is from Sky­horse Pub­lish­ing. Writ­ers can con­tact me at Dead­line is Decem­ber 1, 2015. Length—up to 5,000 words is good. 

Pre­vi­ously pub­lished sto­ries are fine, with con­sent to re-publish world rights. I’ll work out the com­pen­sa­tion with each con­trib­u­tor, it will be a mod­est reprint fee and we may pay a lit­tle more for orig­i­nal sto­ries. Depends. — Joe


I called this lit­tle e-missive “Bear With Me.” That’s because I just sub­mit­ted my tale, “Night of the Griz­zly,” to Joe. And that’s it. If you do sub­mit, tell Joe you’re a Life­guard and a FOJ.




Getting paid in the new news ecosystem

Posted on | May 23, 2015 | No Comments

This is the sixth in a series of blog reports on the sta­tus of the news land­scape and a chal­lenge to cre­ate a new one. The series is authored by Bill Dens­more, a 2008–2009 RJI Fel­low and orig­i­na­tor of the Infor­ma­tion Valet Project. View the series here

By Bill Dens­more on March 10, 2015

When it comes to get­ting paid, who are news orga­ni­za­tions com­pet­ing with, and what can they do about it?

First answer: They aren’t com­pet­ing with each other. They are com­pet­ing with all of the other things con­sumers spend information-access dol­lars on.

If all Amer­i­can house­holds were the same, each would have spent $1,300 in 2009 on infor­ma­tion ser­vices (source: U.S. Cen­sus sta­tis­ti­cal abstract). They bought sub­scrip­tions or sin­gle copies of news­pa­pers, mag­a­zines, books, video, film, music, cable and Inter­net access and other ser­vices — not includ­ing basic phone ser­vice (wired or wire­less), which might eas­ily dou­ble the total.

How much of that $1,300 per year might be spent on ser­vices that pro­vide  — at least in part — trust­wor­thy, appeal­ing infor­ma­tion about civic issues? News­pa­pers’ share of the $1,300 was an aver­age of $72 for sub­scrip­tions. With cir­cu­la­tion rev­enues peak­ing and adver­tis­ing rev­enues plum­met­ing, more dig­i­tal ads alone likely won’t sus­tain jour­nal­ism as we’ve known it.

One way or another, a big­ger bur­den will need to come directly from users — via sub­scrip­tions, dona­tions, trans­ac­tions, events or aggre­gated small pay­ments across many ser­vices — or the cost of pro­duc­ing jour­nal­ism will need to shrink. Oth­er­wise, there will con­tinue to be less pro­fes­sional reporting.

I think the only future for jour­nal­ism is reader rev­enue,” Andrew Sul­li­van, found­ing edi­tor of the sub­scrip­tion news blog “The Dish,” told Cap­i­tal New York in Octo­ber 2014. “With­out it, you are in dan­ger of becom­ing a pub­lic rela­tions or adver­tis­ing com­pany dis­guised as jour­nal­ism, like Buz­zFeed and even The Guardian. Buz­zFeed is really an ad agency with some jour­nal­is­tic win­dow dressing.”

In this report we’ll:

  • High­light the cur­rent envi­ron­ment for “charg­ing” for news, and point to some experiments.
  • Sug­gest why they aren’t working.
  • Probe what users want, includ­ing personalization.
  • Con­sider what has to change to eco­nom­i­cally deliver per­son­al­ized experiences.
  • Envi­sion what our media ecosys­tem will look like as a result — a shared-user net­work for trust, iden­tity, pri­vacy and infor­ma­tion commerce.

The exper­i­ments at “charg­ing” for news

There have been many exper­i­ments over the past two decades at meth­ods to pay for con­tent. “Right now, it’s eas­ier to buy Angry Birds on your iPhone than it is to buy jour­nal­ism on your phone,” wrote Digi­Day reporter Chris Smith in a Nov. 11, 2014, story.

Pay­ment exper­i­ments under­way fall into two gen­eral cat­e­gories — tra­di­tional pay­ment ser­vices and those that pro­mote some ele­ment of gift­ing, dona­tions or crowdfunding.

Read more of this story here, and check out for all kinds of great sto­ries about what’s new in news.


Why Journalists Make Great Entrepreneurs

Posted on | May 5, 2015 | No Comments

By Kathryn McManus
PBS Media Shift
Dig­i­tal Edge

Kathryn McManus Webi­nar, May 6

There is tremen­dous tran­si­tion within the field of jour­nal­ism. The num­ber of full-time U.S. daily news­pa­per jour­nal­ists now stands roughly at 36,700, accord­ing to the Amer­i­can Soci­ety of News Edi­tors, down from 55,000 in 2008. I con­stantly receive calls from jour­nal­ism col­leagues who are in tran­si­tion and grap­pling with how to move for­ward with their exper­tise. For any jour­nal­ist who is in a state of tran­si­tion, it is tremen­dously use­ful to know how to build on an idea and scale it into a business.

I am for­tu­nate to teach entre­pre­neur­ship at the Cronkite School of Jour­nal­ism and Mass Com­mu­ni­ca­tion. Each semes­ter I break the class into three teams and ask thought lead­ers in jour­nal­ism, tech­nol­ogy, and com­mu­ni­ca­tions to share a real-life chal­lenge they see within our indus­try. These thought lead­ers have recently included Chris Crom­mett, founder of CNN en Español; Louis Libin, for­mer CTO of NBC and pres­i­dent of Broad Comm; and Mar­ian Salz­man, CEO of Havas PR.

The stu­dent teams spend the rest of the semes­ter research­ing and con­cep­tu­al­iz­ing work­able busi­ness mod­els. Through­out the
course, they learn the­o­ries of scal­a­bil­ity, posi­tion­ing, team devel­op­ment, com­pe­ti­tion, bar­ri­ers to entry, and fund­ing. More than 30 com­mu­nity and national experts men­tor the stu­dents. All of this hard work cul­mi­nates in an event with more than 100 com­mu­nity lead­ers in atten­dance. The stu­dents present their find­ings in the form of an investor deck. After each pre­sen­ta­tion, the com­mu­nity offers feed­back on how the stu­dents can make their busi­nesses stronger.


When I started cre­at­ing the cur­ricu­lum for the course, I real­ized that the skill sets nec­es­sary for suc­cess as an entre­pre­neur are part of the genetic makeup of journalists.

As jour­nal­ists, we are nat­u­rally curi­ous and exposed to the world unlike any other pro­fes­sion. We see the very best and worst of var­ied sys­tems and soci­eties. We inter­act with pio­neers, inno­va­tors, politi­cians, and celebri­ties as well as lead­ers who areDigital Ed altru­is­tic and lead­ers who are cor­rupt. We are exposed to and report on inno­va­tion. We have been trained to seek out truth and stay polit­i­cally neu­tral while ampli­fy­ing our sto­ries to edu­cate. With shrink­ing bud­gets, we have learned to adapt and become resource­ful. I can­not think of a bet­ter train­ing ground for entrepreneurs.

And I’ve learned by doing. For more than three years, I trav­eled 150 days a year cov­er­ing news as a field pro­ducer for TV Asahi. I worked as White House press, became a CNN inter­nal con­sul­tant eval­u­at­ing oper­a­tions for inter­na­tional affil­i­ates, launched CNN Japan, and founded a jour­nal­ism tech­nol­ogy startup that con­nected interview-ready sub­ject mat­ter experts with jour­nal­ists glob­ally. And now, at the same time I’m teach­ing entre­pre­neur­ship at Cronkite, I head up com­mu­ni­ca­tions and strat­egy for Social­Whirled, a dig­i­tal pub­lish­ing plat­form and cam­paign man­age­ment sys­tem used by national brands and their agen­cies of record.

Through it all, I think my biggest skill is under­stand­ing what it is that I don’t know and then seek­ing out the very best advi­sors.  There is no way I would have been able to take on the var­i­ous chal­lenges with­out the guid­ance and men­tor­ship of others.

As I con­tinue to teach and develop oper­a­tions, what really excites me is the addi­tional impact other jour­nal­ists will have as trained entre­pre­neurs.  Not only will jour­nal­ists iden­tify, report, and edu­cate us on society’s biggest issues, fel­low jour­nal­ist entre­pre­neurs will be pre­pared to act on their pas­sion to develop solu­tions that impact us all.


To learn more about how to cre­ate and mon­e­tize an entre­pre­neur­ial ven­ture in jour­nal­ism, be sure to reg­is­ter for my Dig­i­talEd train­ing, which will take place on May 6, 2015, at 1 pm ET / 10 am PT. If you can’t attend the live ses­sion, we’ll pro­vide archived video for all registrants.

Kathryn McManus joined Social­Whirled as the vice pres­i­dent of com­mu­ni­ca­tions and strat­egy in 2014. She also is a fac­ulty asso­ciate at the Wal­ter Cronkite School of Jour­nal­ism and Mass Com­mu­ni­ca­tion, teach­ing its flag­ship entre­pre­neur­ship pro­gram. McManus served as an inter­na­tional assign­ment edi­tor, and an inter­nal con­sul­tant for stream­lin­ing oper­a­tions at CNN before launch­ing CNN Japan. She also devel­oped and sold NewsCer­ti­fied Exchange, which cre­ated a com­mu­ni­ca­tions solu­tion that con­nected interview-ready thought lead­ers with jour­nal­ists from over 250 of the world’s top media outlets.

Writer’s Lifeguard: Writers’ Acts of Kindness

Posted on | February 2, 2015 | No Comments

By Jules Older
Writer’s Lifeguard

One of the plea­sures of stay­ing in touch with other writ­ers is find­ing myself the recip­i­ent of many unex­pected acts of kindness.

Jules Older

Jules Older

How many? Many many. Here are half a dozen.

“On one condition”

In 2011, I got the bright idea of pub­lish­ing and edit­ing a ski­book ebook. The idea came when ski writer Gerry Win­gen­bach wrote me about a humil­i­at­ing event in his life. He wrote in Octo­ber; the book, with 20 con­trib­u­tors includ­ing Gerry and me, was out before Christ­mas. I called it SKIING THE EDGE: Humor, Humil­i­a­tion, Holi­ness and Heart.

I chose the other con­trib­u­tors in part because they were easy to work with and mostly because they were out­stand­ing at writ­ing per­sonal — some­times, deeply per­sonal — ski stories.

When I invited them, I described the project and offered each the munif­i­cent sum of $75 for their chapter.

Almost every­one said yes, but one, G.D. Maxwell, added a caveat. When he accepted the com­mis­sion, he did so “on one con­di­tion.” The con­di­tion? That I wouldn’t pay him until I’d recouped my expenses.

When I told Effin, she said, “Oh, isn’t that nice. I’ll send him a check.”

No, no! I know Max. He means it. If the check comes, he’ll with­draw his chapter.”

And so, lo these many moons later, sales still haven’t exceeded expenses, and poor Max still has yet to be paid.

But the check lies wait­ing; it’s just a mat­ter of time before Max’s act of kind­ness is repaid … I hope.

Cheer­leader in Chief

Though she’s easy to work with and a fine writer, Claire Wal­ter wasn’t among the invited. That was only because I didn’t asso­ciate her style with those self-revealing sto­ries I was seeking.

Nobody likes to miss an invi­ta­tion. It would be so easy to sulk and whine. Claire went the other route. She did every­thing in her power to pro­mote the book; she became its vol­un­teer reviewer, pub­li­cist and cheer­leader. If there’s ever a SKIING THE EDGE, Vol­ume 2, you may be sure Claire will be in it.

It. Is. Going. To. Be. Fine.

Moira McCarthy was in it; her chap­ter described the frus­tra­tions of ski­ing with a sulk­ing teenage daugh­ter. One of Moira’s daugh­ters has dia­betes, and as a con­se­quence, Moira’s become a dia­betes maven — writ­ing, blog­ging, even speak­ing to Con­gres­sional lead­ers about it.

So when the young daugh­ter of New Zealand friends devel­oped dia­betes, I told them, “I’m putting you in touch with Moira.”

Here’s part of what she wrote to these peo­ple she’d never met on the other side of the planet:

I’m Moira, FOJ (friend of Jules).

Wel­come to the D mom Club. While my child, Lau­ren, was a tiny bit older when diag­nosed, she’s had Type 1 for 17 years now. The first thing I want you to know is — it really IS going to be okay. In her years with dia­betes on board, Lau­ren went to sleep­overs with­out me, rode her bike all over town with her friends, was on a com­pet­i­tive swim team, became an expert skier, was a state ten­nis champ, stu­dent body pres­i­dent, a really bad soc­cer player who looked cute in the out­fits. She dri­ves, she drinks beer (but not at the same time!), she went to col­lege 500 miles away and loved it.

In other words, she has done every­thing she would have done with­out dia­betes on board. Just with some extra steps. It. Is. Going. To. Be. Fine.

Tell me where you are and I’ll see if I can find some­one for you. And until then — I am offi­cially your best dia­betes mom friend — okay?

Feel free to ask me anything.

Got the Assignment

All the sto­ries so far, and the one that fol­lows, involve Writ­ers Life­guards. This one doesn’t or, rather, not exclusively.

A mag­a­zine put out an online call for a writer who knew enough about a province in the South Island of New Zealand to do a piece on ski­ing there. No fewer than six friends and col­leagues spot­ted it and passed it on to me. My thanks to Karen Mis­uracaDick Jor­danBar­bara RogersLau­rie KingShirley Moskow and Donna Peck.

And yeah, I got the assignment.

Tough Love

Although she’s a Life­guard and a Joker, I haven’t set eyes on K.K. Wilder for 20 years. Still, she wrote me how much she liked our min­i­movie about the New Zealand earth­quake, QUAKE CITY.

She asked, “Have you ever done any doc­u­men­taries for Pub­lic Tele­vi­sion?” then, in a big­ger font, added, “I watch a lot of PBS and you and Effin are every bit as good as what I’ve seen.”

I thanked her. Instead of say­ing, “You’re wel­come,” K.K. scolded, “I’m not look­ing for thanks. Send it to them!”

So I did. The odds are ter­ri­ble … but not as ter­ri­ble as if I hadn’t sent it.

Going to be a great interview

Finally, you may recall Writ­ers Life­guard 106, Sports Report[er], a tale of  a 12-year-old boy named Jack Kel­ley offer­ing his ser­vices to San Fran­cisco Chron­i­cle exec­u­tive sports edi­tor, Al Sarace­vic. (In case you don’t recall, it’s attached).

It was a touch­ing tale, and on the other side of the coun­try Becky Blan­ton was not only touched, she was moved to action. Here’s what she wrote me:

Becky Blanton
Becky Blan­ton

I hooked up Jack Kel­ley, the 12-year-old sports writer, with my friend/client Robert Steele, author of Steele Here. Robert’s a Dal­las Cow­boy mir­a­cle story, as his book (a good read) shows. He not only played for Tom Landry, he played with some of the biggest and most iconic sports fig­ures of all time. NICE guy … won a Super­bowl … going to be a great inter­view. He’s excited about talk­ing to Jack. Thanks for send­ing out that story. It really struck me, and now it may help what I think is a tal­ented young writer. You done good!

I say, You done good. These acts of kind­ness and many more, make me proud to call myself a writer.

— jules

Writer’s Lifeguard: Let’s Learn to Fly

Posted on | January 2, 2015 | No Comments

By Jules Older
Writer’s Life­guard
Jan­u­ary 1, 2015

Guess who’s talk­ing, and who put the words in their mouths:

Jules Older

Jules Older

They thought about how good that ice cream tasted.

They thought about how much more fun it was to eat ice cream than to mop floors or mash up beef livers.

They thought about how, if the Fairy God­mother granted them three wishes, the first two would involve ice cream.

Then Ben said, “Yeah, but whad­daya’ wanna’ do, Jer’?”

And Jerry shouted, “BREAKTHROUGH!”

Ben looked at his pal the way you look at some­body when you’ve said, “Nice day, isn’t it?” and they’ve screamed “EASTER BUNNY!”

Uh, whad­daya’ mean, ‘Break­through,’ Jer’?”

I mean… I mean… Ben, look at me.  What are we doing?”

Sit­ting here try­ing to fig­ure out how to make a lit­tle money.”

And what else are we doing?

Eat­ing ice cream.”


Yeah, but what does—”

Don’t you see?  That’s how we’ll make money!”

Eat­ing ice cream?  Jerry, nobody will pay us to eat— ”

No, man— we’re not just gonna’ eat ice cream.  Man, we’re gonna’ make ice cream!  Can you dig it?”

Ben sat and thought.  He licked his ice cream cone.  The straw­berry tasted good.  He licked some more.  He thought some more.

Slowly, slowly, ever-so-slowly, a lit­tle smile crept onto Ben’s face.

The smile grew into a grin.

The grin grew into a laugh.

The laugh grew into a great big, ear-to-ear, shoulder-shaking, thigh slap­ping, nose snort­ing, tears-in-your-eyes, choke-on-your-sugar-cone, hee-haw hee-haw, wide­belly laugh.

Ben clapped Jerry on the back and yelled,



Right. Ben & Jerry said it. Who wrote it?

I did. Years ago in a kid’s book called BEN & JERRY: THE REAL SCOOP.

And their words sprang to mind on Sun­day, on a walk down by the San Fran­cisco Bay. Effin and I were hav­ing The Seri­ous Writer Talk.

You know the talk. Don’t like the way things are look­ing… the writing’s on the wall, the base­ment wall… gotta find a new path… maybe improve the web­site… any money in blogs? Ebooks, then? Twit­ter? Mon­e­tize. SEO. Ads. Kin­dle. Book­Baby. ROI. Plat­form­Brand­So­cial­me­di­aP­in­ter­estVine. We have to find a new way ‘cause the old one ain’t workin’ any more.

Now, we’re really depressed. We kinda’ slump toward home until, halfway up Polk Street, I stop and shout, “BREAKTHROUGH!”

WHAT?” says Effin, sound­ing star­tled and maybe a wee bit concerned.

We’ve been think­ing about this all wrong.”


The ship is sink­ing, and we’re apply­ing sun­screen. The car’s on fire, and we’re clean­ing the ash­tray. The plane—”


Right. No more analo­gies. As writ­ers, we’re in the midst of an epic change, fac­ing an ever-growing cri­sis, and we’re think­ing small. We’re think­ing that a new web­site or a bet­ter ebook for­mat will improve our lot. The engine room’s flooded, and… no more analo­gies. We have to think big­ger. Much, way big­ger. We can’t keep paint­ing the deck when the ship is going dow… or the writer’s equivalent.”

Ri-ight. So what do you think we should do?”

I … I don’t know. I have some ideas, but I don’t know. Here’s what I do know. We are on the sink­ing ship of dis­ap­pear­ing mar­kets, ter­ri­ble con­tracts, plum­met­ing incomes, hol­low promises – CONTENT IS KING! — and we’re sur­rounded by cir­cling sharks. This isn’t the time to repaint the rail­ings. This is the time to learn to fly.”

Got a flight plan, Jules?”

No, but I have those ideas. And I know who has more. I’m putting out the call.”

Writer’s Life­guards! SOS! MAYDAY! We need a BREAKTHROUGHAnd in the name of the seven mad gods who rule the dig­i­tal sea… we need to THINK BIG! And learn to fly.

My own thoughts are below, but before you read them, I urge you — think big, your­self. You may come up with way bigger/bolder/better ideas than mine. After you….

OK, here goes Jules:

Emu­late. Through fat times and lean, there’s one group of writ­ers that does spec­tac­u­larly well. Its mem­bers have, believe it or not, great con­tracts, high pay, even real med­ical and retire­ment plans. No, I’m not mak­ing this up. I’m talk­ing about the screen­writ­ing mem­bers of the Writ­ers Guild of Amer­ica. When a union movie makes money, the writer shares in the bounty. When a script is bought, but the movie’s not made, the writer still gets paid – well paid. When resid­u­als are owed, the WGA col­lects them for you. When the union says, “They’re try­ing to screw us — down tools!” no work gets done. These are writ­ers liv­ing well off their writ­ing. Feed­ing their fam­i­lies, send­ing their kids to col­lege. Maybe we should emu­late them. And, as they did, orga­nize.

Own it. This is far riskier — some­thing like 80% of star­tups fail. But 20% suc­ceed, and in times when the fail­ure rate feels closer to 95%, those odds look con­sid­er­ably bet­ter. So, own it. Start your own Dig­i­tal Age pub­lish­ing com­pany, video pro­duc­tion out­fit, niche mag­a­zine, [fill in the blank here]. DIY.

Help me help you. Teach oth­ers to become writ­ers. I don’t mean soak new­bies by pre­tend­ing that you know the road to riches; I mean show them what writ­ing is all about. Between uni­ver­sity, school and library teach­ing (usu­ally, through my course, Writ­ing For Real) and run­ning our own day­long work­shops (travel writ­ing, children’s writ­ing, gen­eral writ­ing) and Effin’s tutor­ing, we’ve prob­a­bly made more money show­ing than doing.

Go Con­trar­ian. This came to me when I was growl­ing at my once-favorite air­line. They’re fol­low­ing other car­ri­ers in offer­ing less for more, sell­ing lunches at inflated prices, nickel and dim­ing at every oppor­tu­nity. I think they — and we — should go the oppo­site route. Give more, be nicer, make folks want to fly with us. One way — if you decide to Own it (see above) — treat your writ­ers well. If they sur­vive the shock, they’ll move moun­tains for you.

Stop writ­ing for table scraps. Just say no. Like I did last month:

Thank you for the invitation.

Until I got to the line that read, we’re not bud­geted to pay writ­ers, I was excited that you’re open­ing a new out­let on skiing.

I want to sug­gest that not pay­ing writ­ers is a bad way to begin. Offer­ing “expo­sure” only makes it worse. Peo­ple die of exposure.

Like ski instruc­tors, wait­ers, plumbers and pub­lish­ers, writ­ers must be paid. It’s the pay that allows us to keep writing.

So thank you for the invi­ta­tion. I invite you to recon­sider your posi­tion on not pay­ing writers.

And last week:

How does that grab you, Jules?

Badly. I’m a pro­fes­sional, not a hob­by­ist. Would love to, but not if it means sell­ing out my fam­ily and my fel­low writ­ers. And it does.

So, that’s my BREAKTHROUGH.

What’s yours, pussycat?

— jules

Writer’s Lifeguard: Sports Reporter, Age 12

Posted on | January 1, 2015 | No Comments

Writer’s Life­guard
By Jules Older

I had no plans to send you any­thing today. We have fam­ily here; you prob­a­bly have fam­ily there. But when I opened today’s San Fran­cisco Chron­i­cle, I saw a piece by Life­guard Al Sarace­vic that I couldn’t resist. 

Happy hols and here tis …

— jules


By Al Sarace­vic
Dec. 28, 2014

The tagline made me leery. We get a lot of queries from peo­ple who want into the sports­writ­ing business.

Jack Kelley Sports Reporter

Jack Kel­ley
Sports Reporter

I’ve always loved the Giants and thought I’d be a great colum­nist for you.” Or, “You peo­ple are idiots. I could do a bet­ter job than any of you.” That sort of thing is pretty common.

But I clicked on the mes­sage any­way, against my bet­ter judg­ment. What came up on my screen that day in May turned out to be my favorite e-mail of the year. I thought I’d share it here, with The Sport­ing Green faith­ful, as a hol­i­day gesture.

Here’s what the note said:

Hello! My name is Jack Kelley,

I am 12 years old, I love sports, and I love to write. I was won­der­ing if it was pos­si­ble for me to write for the San Fran­cisco Chron­i­cle. I am a big fan, (both of the Chron­i­cle and about San Fran­cisco sports teams) and I want to take my sports writ­ing to the next level. (My blog is .) I wouldn’t need to be paid. I think I have an inter­est­ing point of view because I am younger than most blog­gers and can con­nect to a younger reader.

Thanks, Jack Kelley

A smile crossed my lips and I thought back to sixth grade, the year I started in this busi­ness of ink-stained wretched­ness. Way back then, at Glen­brook Ele­men­tary in the sub­urbs of Cleve­land, this sports edi­tor launched into his first pub­lish­ing endeavor. I called it the “President’s Jour­nal,” and I chron­i­cled the hap­pen­ings of my fel­low sixth-graders — on the sports field, on the stage, in the class­room and beyond.

Yes, I was that geek. My father had got­ten me hooked on read­ing Mike Royko’s syn­di­cated columns from Chicago, in the old Cleve­land Press, and that’s what I wanted to do. Write for a liv­ing. Tell peo­ple how it is. Thirty-some odd years later, that’s kind of where I ended up. I’m no Royko, but I’m in the game. And it all started when I was 12. Just like Jack Kelley.

I printed out the kid’s let­ter, think­ing my fel­low crusty edi­tors in the morn­ing meet­ing would get a kick out of it. Sure enough, there were chuck­les all around.

You should get him to pick games on Sun­day, Al.”

Get that kid a blog!”

I thought that might be the end of it, but I couldn’t leave young Jack hang­ing. I owed him a note. So I clicked on his blog first, and was pleas­antly sur­prised. Some gram­mar issues needed to be resolved, but the kid had a voice. And an opinion.

In his “Draft Ass­es­ment: 49ers,” Kel­ley had this to say: “With the 30th pick in the NFL Draft the 49ers selected safety Jimmy Ward from North­ern Illi­nois Uni­ver­sity. I think this pick will be good for the Nin­ers, who are in need of a good DB, after los­ing Donte Whit­ner last year. Ward is a big­ger hit­ter and a play­maker that will fit in per­fectly with the 49ers defense. Coach Har­baugh has already talked about play­ing Ward in the nickel, and on Social Media, Ward is being com­pared to Seat­tle Sea­hawk safety Earl Thomas.”

Pretty good analy­sis for a grade schooler. I would know. And let’s just say, my sixth-grade insight didn’t include what they were say­ing on social media. (Ward had a spotty first sea­son, in hind­sight, but Jack will learn that all sports­writ­ers spe­cial­ize in being wrong in public.)

I sent Jack a note thank­ing him for his inter­est, ask­ing him to con­nect me with his par­ents at some point. Maybe he could come by the paper some­time and take a tour. As I put it back in May: “Thanks for mak­ing my day, Jack. I started a news­pa­per when I was 12. You remind me of me.”

The young­ster responded quickly, inform­ing me that he actu­ally lives in Ore­gon, but that he reads all our stuff online. His dad trav­eled down to the Bay Area every once in awhile, so maybe he’d tag along on one of his father’s busi­ness trips. I thanked him again for the inter­est, and fig­ured that would be it.

Until young Jack showed up at my office. True to his word, the young writer talked his dad into tak­ing him on a trip to San Fran­cisco in Novem­ber. Tom Kel­ley e-mailed me and asked if it would be OK to drop Jack off for a cou­ple of hours while he attended a meet­ing downtown.

Sure. Why not?

And that’s how Jack and I ended up sit­ting in that very same meet­ing room, with those very same crusty old edi­tors, talk­ing the days news with a 12-year-old kid who dreams of some­day writ­ing for a living.

After­ward, I gave Jack some advice. (“Don’t write for free, kid.…”) Then we went out for some pizza. (“Don’t eat too much pizza, kid…”) And then we sat down for an inter­view. Him inter­view­ing me.

After about 20 min­utes of grilling, rang­ing in top­ics from my favorite authors to my least-favorite sports, Jack folded up his note­book and announced he was done.

I asked him why he liked to write. “I started writ­ing in third grade, because my third-grade teacher, Miss Lois, encour­aged us to write.” (Huz­zah, Miss Lois!)

I asked him what he thought of the 49ers leav­ing town. “I’m actu­ally a lit­tle dis­ap­pointed in that. I thought it was cool being in the city. That’s where all the real fans are. I think it’ll be more busi­ness­peo­ple down there.” (Exactly.)

The War­riors? “I was really sur­prised they fired Mark Jack­son. That was one of the best sea­sons they had. But the new guy will do a good job.” (Steve Kerr seems to be doing just fine.)

And what about Colin Kaeper­nick? “I don’t know if he’s a fran­chise quar­ter­back. He’s got to run less and get more accu­rate with his passes.” (Spot on, Jack.)

Four-for-four in my book. Maybe this busi­ness isn’t so hard.

Jack’s dad came by to pick him up and off they went, back to Ore­gon. Dad to his job. Jack to his blog.

If you’re won­der­ing where this is all head­ing, I’m guess­ing you’ll be a lit­tle dis­ap­pointed. I didn’t hire Jack to be The Chronicle’s Huck Finn colum­nist. Jack didn’t go on to pick 20 straight NFL games. There is no book deal or TV real­ity show.

What we have here is a young kid, gin­ger hair and great smile, who loves sports and loves to write. Here’s hop­ing he main­tains that pas­sion, whether as a jour­nal­ist or not. Writ­ing is becom­ing a lost art in a world dom­i­nated by 140 char­ac­ters and dis­ap­pear­ing photos.

Happy hol­i­days, Jack Kel­ley. Keep on writ­ing. You never know where it might lead you.

Newsosaur: How newspapers lost the millennials

Posted on | December 12, 2014 | 1 Comment

By Alan D. Mut­ter
Reflec­tions of a New­sosaur
Dec. 11, 2014

Amer­i­can pub­lish­ers and edi­tors have only them­selves to blame for fail­ing to con­nect with the Mil­len­nial gen­er­a­tion that they – and most of their adver­tis­ers – covet the most.Editor & Publisher

The inabil­ity of news­pa­pers to res­onate with dig­i­tal natives has left them with a daunt­ing demo­graphic chal­lenge. Two-thirds of the audi­ence at the typ­i­cal news­pa­per is com­posed of peo­ple over the age of 55, accord­ing to Greg Har­mon of Bor­rell Asso­ciates. “The news­pa­per audi­ence ages another year every year,” he adds. “Everyone’s hair ought to be on fire.”

As the news­pa­per audi­ence grays, the read­ers that news­pa­pers – and most of their adver­tis­ers – would like to have are, instead, busily rack­ing up page views at places like Buz­zFeed, Circa, Mic, Upwor­thy, Vice, Voca­tive and Vox.

To delve into the demo­graphic dis­par­ity, I pulled the audi­ence data on Mic.Com, which com­Score calls the favorite news des­ti­na­tion for indi­vid­u­als from the ages of 18 to 34. Although many pub­lish­ers and edi­tors never may have heard of Mic, com­Score says it is vis­ited by a thump­ing 60% of Millenials.

To make things inter­est­ing, I com­pared Mic’s audi­ence with the aggre­gate data for the 28 geo­graph­i­cally dis­persed mar­kets served by McClatchy Co., the largest news­pa­per com­pany fur­nish­ing user data to Quantcast.Com, which requires pub­lish­ers to opt in to its data service.

Quant­cast indexes audi­ences against the national pop­u­la­tion to make it pos­si­ble to com­pare the demo­graph­ics of one web­site against another. This means a site whose audi­ence per­fectly mir­rors the national age dis­tri­b­u­tion would index at 100. Now, here’s how Mic com­pares with McClatchy, accord­ing to Quantcast’s data:

At Mic, users from 18 to 24 index at 156, mean­ing that the site has 1½ times more read­ers in this age group than the national aver­age.  The index climbs to 171 for the 25–34 crowd.

The story is quite the oppo­site at McClatchy, where the under-34 age groups come in at less than 100 but where the inci­dence of older read­ers is above the norm, index­ing at 108 for 35–44, 117 for 45–54, 126 for 55–64 and 125 for 65-plus.

Assum­ing McClatchy is rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the indus­try  – and I see no rea­son why it wouldn’t be – the big ques­tion is how so many highly intel­li­gent and highly moti­vated news­pa­per exec­u­tives failed to con­nect with this mas­sive and influ­en­tial mar­ket.  Here’s a not-so-subtle clue:

In a recent study, researchers at the Uni­ver­sity of Mis­souri reported that only 29% of news­pa­per pub­lish­ers con­ducted focus groups prior to putting pay­walls around the dig­i­tal prod­ucts that most pro­fess to be the future of their franchises.

Instead of talk­ing with their intended con­sumers, fully 85% of respon­dents to the sur­vey said they asked other pub­lish­ers what they thought about erect­ing bar­ri­ers around the con­tent that they had been freely pro­vid­ing for the bet­ter part of two decades.

While pay­walls boosted rev­enues at most news­pa­pers because they were accom­pa­nied by stiff increases in print sub­scrip­tion rates, the tac­tic gave the grow­ing pop­u­la­tion of dig­i­tal natives – and non-readers of every other age – the best rea­son yet for not engag­ing with newspapers.

Of course, news­pa­pers were los­ing Mil­lenials well before they started fever­ishly erect­ing pay­walls in the last few years. But what if pub­lish­ers and edi­tors had begun study­ing the needs and atti­tudes of the emerg­ing gen­er­a­tion from the early days of the Mil­le­nium? Could the out­comes have been more positive?

In the inter­ests of tun­ing into the think­ing of those elu­sive twenty– and thirty-somethings, a news­pa­per client recently brought a panel of them to a strat­egy ses­sion. Here is what we learned:

  • The Mil­lenials said the only media that mat­ter to them are the social media, where they get cur­rent news about their friends, as well as cues to other inter­est­ing or rel­e­vant content.
  • They put a great deal of trust in rec­om­men­da­tions from their friends but are not moti­vated by loy­alty to media brands.
  • They will click on what­ever con­tent inter­ests or amuses them, and they make no dis­tinc­tion among news, enter­tain­ment and advertising

Read more here.


lan D. Mut­ter is per­haps the only CEO in Sil­i­con Val­ley who knows how to set type one let­ter at a time. Mut­ter began his career as a news­pa­per colum­nist and edi­tor at the Chicago Daily News and later rose to City Edi­tor of the Chicago Sun-Times. In 1984, he became No. 2 edi­tor of the San Fran­cisco Chron­i­cle. He left the news­pa­per busi­ness in 1988 to join Inter­Me­dia Part­ners, a start-up that became one of the largest cable-TV com­pa­nies in the U.S. Mut­ter was the COO of Inter­Me­dia when he moved to Sil­i­con Val­ley in 1996 to join the first of the three start-up com­pa­nies he led as CEO. The com­pa­nies he headed were a pio­neer­ing Inter­net ser­vice provider and two enterprise-software com­pa­nies. Mut­ter now is a con­sul­tant spe­cial­iz­ing in cor­po­rate ini­tia­tives and new media ven­tures involv­ing jour­nal­ism and tech­nol­ogy. He ordi­nar­ily does not write about clients or sub­jects that will affect their inter­ests. In the rare event he does, this will be fully dis­closed. Mut­ter also is on the adjunct fac­ulty of the Grad­u­ate School of Jour­nal­ism at the Uni­ver­sity of Cal­i­for­nia at Berkeley.

USA Weekend shuts as costs spike and ads tumble

Posted on | December 12, 2014 | No Comments

By Alan D. Mut­ter
Reflec­tions of a New­sosaur
Fri­day, Novem­ber 5, 2014

USA Week­end, the second-largest Sun­day news­pa­per mag­a­zine in the United States, will print its final edi­tion on Dec. 28, suc­cumb­ing to soar­ing dis­tri­b­u­tion costs and plung­ing advertising.  USA Weekend

The cir­cu­la­tion of the Sun­day sup­ple­ment, which was stuffed into news­pa­pers deliv­ered to as many as 70 mil­lion homes a few years back, has fallen today to about 18 mil­lion, accord­ing to a knowl­edge­able source at Gan­nett Inc., the par­ent of the publication.

With adver­tis­ing sales col­laps­ing by nearly half in the last few years, USA Week­end was expected to pro­duce about $40 mil­lion in rev­enue in 2014, yield­ing losses in excess of $10 mil­lion in each of the last two years, accord­ing to the source, who declined to be iden­ti­fied because s/he is not autho­rized to speak with the press.

Some 30 adver­tis­ing and edi­to­r­ial staffers will lose their jobs in the shutdown.

The demise of USA Week­end will leave the con­tract­ing Sun­day sup­ple­ment mar­ket to Parade Mag­a­zine, whose dis­tri­b­u­tion is about 32 mil­lion copies.  A few years back, its cir­cu­la­tion was dou­ble that size, accord­ing to indus­try sources.

Finan­cial infor­ma­tion is not avail­able for Parade because it is pri­vately held.  How­ever, indus­try sources say rev­enues today are in the neigh­bor­hood of $60 mil­lion, as com­pared with $100 mil­lion in the last two or three years.

Parade was sold in the fall to Athlon Media by Advance Pub­li­ca­tions, which had owned the title since 1976.

The once-robust Sun­day sup­ple­ment busi­ness unrav­eled as the result of the declin­ing eco­nom­ics of news­pa­per pub­lish­ing and the chang­ing demands of advertisers.

In the hey­day of news­pa­pers – when industry-wide rev­enues and prof­its were approx­i­mately twice as large as they are today – the pub­lish­ers of USA Week­end and Parade were able to charge local pub­lish­ers for the right to dis­trib­ute the mag­a­zines in their Sun­day papers.

When news­pa­per adver­tis­ing began the slide that has taken it today to less than half of the record $49 bil­lion achieved in 2005, the Sun­day sup­ple­ment pub­lish­ers found them­selves first absorb­ing the costs of ship­ping the prod­uct to local news­pa­pers and even­tu­ally pay­ing local pub­lish­ers to dis­trib­ute their magazines.

The flip in the dis­tri­b­u­tion model not only elim­i­nated tens of mil­lions of dol­lars of annual rev­enues for the Sun­day sup­ple­ments but also bur­dened them with tens of mil­lions in new costs.

The cost struc­ture got crazy,” said an exec­u­tive who tried to turn around the decline at USA Week­end. “You could afford to pay peo­ple to take the mag­a­zine if you had enough adver­tis­ing but this doesn’t work if you don’t.” Read more here.


Alan D. Mut­ter is per­haps the only CEO in Sil­i­con Val­ley who knows how to set type one let­ter at a time. Mut­ter began his career as a news­pa­per colum­nist and edi­tor at the Chicago Daily News and later rose to City Edi­tor of the Chicago Sun-Times. In 1984, he became No. 2 edi­tor of the San Fran­cisco Chron­i­cle. He left the news­pa­per busi­ness in 1988 to join Inter­Me­dia Part­ners, a start-up that became one of the largest cable-TV com­pa­nies in the U.S. Mut­ter was the COO of Inter­Me­dia when he moved to Sil­i­con Val­ley in 1996 to join the first of the three start-up com­pa­nies he led as CEO. The com­pa­nies he headed were a pio­neer­ing Inter­net ser­vice provider and two enterprise-software com­pa­nies. Mut­ter now is a con­sul­tant spe­cial­iz­ing in cor­po­rate ini­tia­tives and new media ven­tures involv­ing jour­nal­ism and tech­nol­ogy. He ordi­nar­ily does not write about clients or sub­jects that will affect their inter­ests. In the rare event he does, this will be fully dis­closed. Mut­ter also is on the adjunct fac­ulty of the Grad­u­ate School of Jour­nal­ism at the Uni­ver­sity of Cal­i­for­nia at Berkeley.

Writer’s Lifeguard: Better Than Money

Posted on | November 29, 2014 | 1 Comment

Writer’s Life­guard
Novem­ber 29, 2014
By Jules Older

Yes, I have some­thing bet­ter than money.

And so do you.

Jules Older

Jules Older

When do-good orga­ni­za­tions come a kn-kn-knockin’ as they do at this time of year, we writ­ers can offer them some­thing bet­ter — much bet­ter — than cash.

We can amplify their voice. No mat­ter whom we write for — papers and mags, blogs and zines, radio and TV — we can mag­nify their mes­sage, swell their audience.

I have found a voice to amplify. It’s my favorite kind of do-good out­fit; it goes right to a basic human need.

Basic human need’ starts with safe drink­ing water. Amaz­ingly, that’s still miss­ing in many, many parts of the world. And that’s where I want to put my time and skills.

Now, thanks to my friend Dawnet Bev­er­ley, I have the place to put them. Dawnet intro­duced me to Jon Kauf­man, who founded H2OpenDoors.

Not only does H2OpenDoors bring pure water to some of the poor­est places on the planet, it does so in a way rad­i­cally dif­fer­ent from almost every­one else.

Instead of drilling wells, a process that all too often lit­ters the land­scape with the rust­ing remains of bro­ken dreams, Jon asked him­self, “What if we used exist­ing ground water and puri­fied the hell out of it?”

EF0E66D5-9E19-4919-9FBC-E741471A327FHe found a hi-tech process that turned fecal ponds and putrid swamps and poi­son rivers into sparkling pure drink­ing water. And entirely pow­ered by wind and sun.

I put Jon’s idea and his out­fit before experts, and they said, they’re sound. After meet­ing him and pep­per­ing him with rude ques­tions, I reached the same conclusion.

So H2OpenDoors is where I’m ampli­fy­ing. I’m doing it now, and I’ll do it soon again in an arti­cle on hol­i­day gifts.  Here’s how it will read:

The anti-Rolex

Few expenses in this world pro­vide a worse STP, satisfaction-to-price ratio, than an expen­sive watch. It doesn’t tell time as well as a Timex or your smart­phone, and despite those beau­ti­fully lit ads in haute mag­a­zines, it doesn’t look bet­ter, either.

Few expenses in this world pro­vide a bet­ter STP than a con­tri­bu­tion to a wor­thy cause. One of my faves is rel­a­tively new. H2OpenDoors takes a dif­fer­ent approach to bring­ing pure water to impov­er­ished parts of the planet. Instead of drilling to find water (an endeavor lit­tered with the detri­tus of fail­ure), H2OpenDoors uses exist­ing water — lakes, rivers, bogs —removes the filth and tox­ins, then lets vil­lagers drink clean and free. All pow­ered by sun and wind. You can see how it works here.

So. H2OpenDoors is where I’m putting my time, my writerly skills, and, yeah, my money. If it’s for you, spread the word, and wel­come to our small Mer­rie Band.

You can reach Jon and H2OpenDoors at

(If he doesn’t answer right away, that’s because he’s in Panama doing the work we can share with our cor­ners of the world.)

— jules



keep looking »
  • Welcome to Our Community

        Is there life – or work – after news­pa­pers? A lot of us are in the process of find­ing out. Because it’s gen­er­ally a some­what lonely endeavor, it struck me, in Jan­u­ary 2010, that it might be com­fort­ing – and pos­si­bly very pro­duc­tive – to go through it together.

        Dis­placed Jour­nal­ists is a com­mu­nity – our com­mu­nity – where we find com­mon ground, where we can begin to pick our­selves up, dust our­selves off and get on with our lives and liveli­hoods. [more]

  • Click on a tag

  • Archives

  • SEO Powered by Platinum SEO from Techblissonline