How Ya' Doin? (No, This Isn't About Sarah Palin)

People always ask me, “How’s the magazine doing?” Lately, though, the apologetic tone of the question feels more like somebody’s asking me about my terminally ill uncle than my place of work.

“Better than newspapers,” I tell them, because the magazine business really is OK. In fact, the outlook is very promising. Readership is up, which includes a nice spike in the younger demographic, and with the decline in newsrooms people are hungrier than ever for in-depth stories about the world they live in.

Sure, the advertising has slowed down in a sluggish economy, but by no means has it dried up. Businesses still need to hock their wares, and our magazine has produced great results in all of our core categories, from home, health and travel to dining, retail and entertainment. In a down economy, you want an advertising vehicle you can count on.

You also want content you can trust, which is how our magazine has consistently distinguished itself from the local competition. Sure, good press doesn’t hurt, but if you or your ad agency buys an ad because a magazine says it will write about you if you do, the press you get is tainted, and readers don’t trust it. What we offer instead is editorial integrity, which attracts eyeballs—more than 107,000 sets of them—attached to Madisonians who are invested in their community, and in concepts like buying local, whether it’s a meal, a car, a health care plan, or a kitchen table.

If you don’t believe me, here’s a snippet of media expert James Brady’s conversation on Forbes.com with former chairman of Magazine Publishers of America president Jack Kliger on the topic:

“I don’t know if the magazine business will ever again be as robust,” [Kliger] said. “But ads will still be very important, the dominant revenue. Magazine advertising really works. And consumers like magazines. There’s value to original and trusted third-party content. Young people may not like newspapers anymore, but they like magazines. And we really do have good print journalists and editors who can learn the new digital platforms."

Original and trusted. And doing just fine, thanks.

Local Sleuth Is A Writer, Too

I hate that saying about how nice guys finish last. I don’t believe it. I just think they have to wait patiently while the mean guys do each other in. Not only is Kevin Hughes one of the nicest guys I’ve never met, he waited forever to find a publisher for his second novel, Casualty Crossing (StoneGarden.net Publishing, $14.95). And then he waited even longer for me to write about it.

A few years back Hughes’ day job as a Dane County Sheriff’s Office detective inspired his night job as a writer of detective novels. Hughes’ characters are so well developed, and his plots so interesting that it’s easy to lose yourself in one of his mysteries. He’s a thoughtful and conscientious guy, and his books reflect not only his passion for his career but his optimistic outlook on life—remarkable given his line of work. You’d think after more than thirty years investigating crimes a person could get a little jaded. His main character Toby Jenkins sure does.

Now Hughes is hard at work on his third book, a sequel to Casualty Crossing, and he says the fourth is slowly materializing in his head.

I talked to Hughes about his books, his job, and while I was at it, I threw him some tough questions about Madison and whether or not it’s a safe place to live anymore. Hughes was decent enough to answer them, proving once again my theory about nice guys.

What did you learn from your first novel, Just Another Shade of Blue, that helped you in crafting Casualty Crossing?

After I had written Just Another Shade of Blue, I enrolled in a writer’s course in which I was paired with a novelist who was also a former staff editor for the New York Times. This one-on-one training afforded me some valuable insight into what makes a novel tick. By using chapters from Blue I was able to see how certain applications can make your characters and plot much more believable. I ended up reworking Blue based on his teachings and was happy with the results.

I applied the techniques to Casualty Crossing from its onset and as a result, the methodology proved to be quite successful. One of the most important things I learned is that a good editor can make a huge difference in your final product.

Your characters have so much depth. They could jump off the page and start walking around. They’re very real. I imagine your ability to get inside people’s heads is what makes you such a good detective. Also, I loved the Madison references—dinner at Paisan’s, the construction of the new Dane County Courthouse, the lakes, politics. Did you have to think about basing the story in Madison with the kind of work you do?

What I do for a living didn’t enter into my decision-making process too much. My trepidation was rewriting the complete novel only to find the change of milieu was a poor choice. Once I worked on a few chapters, it was obvious to me that the story was meant for Madison and not in a fictitious city in Ohio.

The transition allowed me to bring TJ and the other characters alive in a setting that was familiar to me, which fortified the sense of place that plays such an important role in a novel. The added bonus was the opportunity to share my perspective of Madison with the reader.

At times the crime, in particular the brutal rape of the woman, which led to Toby’s courtroom outburst and suspension, felt more real because you situated it in the city in areas I’m very familiar with. It was a bit of a harsh reminder that bad people are out there doing bad things. The spate of recent murders here not withstanding, most of us feel pretty safe.

When I was a kid, I could hardly wait to grow up because I thought life would be so much easier. And back in those same old days, Madison and Dane County were growing up with perhaps the same expectations as a kid. And, we both are still learning that be it a kid or a city, growing up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

As Madison continues to mature, the challenges of the community increase and one of those challenges is crime. All of us bear the responsibility to keep our cities and towns safe but in the process, we must not fall victim to the fear of crime to a point that it causes us to alter our lifestyle in a drastic fashion.

Wherever you are, no matter what time of day, you must be aware of your environment and digest what is occurring in your vicinity. I’ve lived by a rule that has saved me more times than embarrassed me, which is to follow my gut instinct. The rule should apply to everyone: if you think something is amiss, you are more than likely correct and you should act accordingly. Don’t live with the regret that you could have helped mitigate a terrible incident if you’d only made a call or written down a license number.

Madison is facing issues that have impacted other medium-sized cities, some of which are dealing with the issues quite well and others that have fallen into the abyss of hopelessness. It is expensive to run a city, village, township or a county. Residents must decide where their tax dollars are spent and inform their elected officials. Our representatives are charged with moving their constituents’ agenda forward. But in order for our politicians to act on our behalf, we all must make an effort to inform them of our priorities so they can make the correct decisions regarding public policy.

Regarding the unsolved crimes in Madison, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Madison is fortunate to have such a competent, talented and professional police force. I know that the police are putting forth a great effort to solve pending cases and are committed to locating and charging the person or persons involved for their actions.

Do you share some of main character TJ’s frustrations with the court system, about how sometimes the very same rules that can save an innocent person can also free a criminal? Justice isn’t always served.

Okay, TJ is a fictional character so he’s on his own on this one. As for me, I hold Dane County and Western Federal District juries in high esteem. I have learned that when those twelve to sixteen jurors sit in that box, they are attentive, intuitive and most of the time render what I believe is the correct verdict based on the facts of the case and information that the court allows them to consider.

What do you love most about writing? I love the creativity of fiction, which is my forte for now. When I’m in the writing phase of a project, oftentimes the characters will highjack the plot and, although this might sound a little odd, I let it happen because I become curious as to where they will end up, which can be quite different than my original concept.

I was amazed by your level of detail. You describe every scene right down to the pattern on the couch. I imagine that’s the kind of trait good detectives must have in order to solve crimes.

My writing technique is somewhat based on the reports I’ve prepared regarding investigations during my career in law enforcement. Prosecutors are very fond of the minutia of a case and I strive to include as much detail as possible to convey the situation as well as the perspective of the victim, witnesses and suspects. Based on that experience, I believe an author should never fake the details of a procedure. Doing so demonstrates lack of respect toward the reader.

Some of the scenes involving Billy’s abuse at the hands of his stepfather are pretty graphic. They were hard to read. What was it like writing them, or had you seen it all before combing through police reports so it was easier to write?

In spite of my experience with abuse victims, I still had difficulty writing the abuse scenes. I honestly thought I had toned down the brutality, but I also knew I had to convey the message of the hell-on-earth lifestyle that so many children must endure. Among the investigations I’ve worked, abuse cases have been some of the toughest and most rewarding of my career. There were not always happy endings, but I always felt that if my actions changed the course of a child’s life I had made an impact on the world.

How do you emotionally detach yourself from the tragic side of your work?

I spent nearly two hours trying to answer this question when I finally realized it could all be summed up in one succinct paragraph: What works for me is to understand that I do not work in the real world. The real world has much more good than evil or we’d really be in trouble.

Who are your favorite fictional detectives?

My all-time favorite was Lenny Briscoe of the old Law & Order shows (I loved his attitude and cheap suits); Harry Bosch, the protagonist in the series by Michael Connelly; Matthew Scudder, the police detective turned private eye in the Lawrence Block series and the list would not be complete without Andy Sipowicz of NYPD Blue—I’ve never met a cop who didn’t love his character.

Are you a patron of the Madison bookstore Booked for Murder?

Uh-oh, not really. I sent an e-mail and dropped off a sell sheet asking them to carry CC, but I don’t think it happened. I’ve been thinking that I might just drop of a copy for the owner and see if reading it will prompt her to stock some copies in her store.

What made you decide on a sequel to Casualty Crossing as opposed to a whole new plot, and can you give us a sneak peek at what Toby will be up to?

Primarily because I think the characters work so well that the reader will want to keep in touch with their endeavors. And of course, I enjoy the cast and have a lot of fun hanging out with them whenever I’m in the writing or development mode.

Hmmm ... a sneak peek at [third novel] Dogging Truth ... well, I can’t give too much away because it’s somewhat based on Casualty Crossing, but here’s a clue or two: This story is based on a murder in Madison in which a deputy sheriff is the defendant. TJ’s ex-wife, Elizabeth, just can’t leave well enough alone and conjures a way for the two of them to work together on the case, which leads to a very interesting journey that involves the cast of Casualty Crossing. Dogging Truth is set to be released on May 19 and around the first of the year, I’ll share a few more details with everyone on my website. In the works is Archer, the third in the series that will be published in 2010 ... can’t offer a clue on that one because a lot of it is still in my head, which means that all bets are off on where it will end up once the characters take over the keyboard.

When Memory Fades

It’s amazing what you find out about a person after they’re dead.
My grandmother, Elizabeth Sullivan Nardi, died two weeks ago at age 91. I read in her obituary that after she graduated from high school she worked at the Grit Newspaper in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. I had no idea anyone on my dad’s side of the family had any sort of a career in journalism. I didn’t have time to ask my grandfather what she did at the paper. I assume it was some sort of administrative work, but even still, it was fun to know that she and I had shared that kind of experience in our lives.

Nanny, as we nine grandkids called her, was my godmother and I her namesake—Elizabeth is my first name. She and my grandfather, Francis Anthony Nardi, moved into their small but brand-new brick bungalow in Harrisonburg, Virginia, in 1946, raised seven kids there, and until this summer when my grandmother suffered a stroke and moved to a nursing home, lived the respectable, small-town, middle-class life together. They were married for an unbelievable 67 years. Their house on 310 New York Avenue was just a few blocks from my junior high and high school, and so I spent lots of lunch hours and weekdays after school hanging out with Nanny and Pop-Pop. They were wonderful to my two older sisters and me—always proud of whatever we were up to and happy to have us around.

A few years ago, Nanny’s diabetes began to take its toll on her body, while dementia set in to play tricks on her mind. She had finally quit smoking on her 83rd birthday, and we all got a kick out of how she swore it was the reason she started feeling so cruddy after all those years of relatively good health. Thankfully, my aunt and several uncles were around to take care of Nan as her health declined. Pop is very healthy for 92 years old, but his knee aches a lot and, hell, it’s hard enough taking care of your own self at that age. I’ve often thought of how remarkable it is that they were able to stay in their home, and our family is grateful for the love and sacrifice their kids made to see to it that they were together for as long as possible.

When I saw Nanny for the final time last November, she was confined to a walker and spent most of her days nodding off in a recliner. As always, Pop wasn’t more than a holler away, poking around on the computer he’d discovered with joy a few years back. She was mostly blind and deaf, and we talked loudly and repeated ourselves for the hour or so we spent with her. She remembered who I was, though, and marveled at how far we’d driven to visit. We probably told her about the 1,000-mile trip from Wisconsin to Virginia four or five times that afternoon—she was always amazed by each rendition.

After I got back from the funeral last week, I was cleaning out some files and stumbled on a children’s book by a local author, Jeannie L. Johnson. It’s called Do You Have A Moon At Your House? and it’s the tale of a young girl named Madison, who is bewildered by her grandmother’s struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. The title is the question Grandma poses to Madison in the final passage of the book, after they share a lovely moment looking through a telescope one evening. “I felt it was a perfect story to help children learn about this painful disease that takes their loved ones away in degrees,” writes Johnson in the postscript, who also reveals that the book is based on the true story of her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s. Johnson’s nephew, Lukas Gaffey, complements her very nice writing with lovely illustrations that capture the heart of the story. It’s a warm tribute to Johnson’s mother, and I’ll keep it around in case I have any friends or family who might benefit from the story’s intent.

As I read Johnson’s book I thought of my own grandmother’s memory loss over the last few years. It really bugged her, and she was harder on herself than I thought she would be when she couldn’t conjure up a name or finish a thought. I suppose … Nanny was no dummy. She knew what was happening to her and she didn’t like it one bit.

I’m pretty sure my grandmother’s stint at the Grit Newspaper was one of the last jobs she ever held. She was your typical 1950s housewife, busy raising six sons and a daughter like society expected. My uncles told some great stories at the funeral. My favorite is the one about how she’d pump up the boys before a big game. My dad and his brothers were short and skinny, so the pep talks had to be good. “It’s not about the dog in the fight,” she’d tell them. “It’s about the fight in the dog.” That’s pretty much how my grandmother lived her final days. I know they weren’t easy but she lived them with dignity and surrounded by love. Nanny was a tough broad, with lots of grit. I’m gonna miss her.

Editing at the Crossroads

Back in 2003 when Patrick Strickler, then-UW communications director on Bascom Hill, contacted Madison Magazine about Chancellor John Wiley’s interest in penning an article on the state of higher education, editor Brian Howell and I were excited. The legislature was gridlocking, tuition costs were rising and faculty pay was falling. And yet the university held so much promise in so many multifaceted ways. We believed our readers would want to know how the head of the University of Wisconsin–Madison felt about it all.

Wiley’s article ran in the November issue, and for us it was a prelude to the magazine’s new Madison Business section we debuted the following March. The new business content would feature in-depth stories about UW spinoff companies that might someday cure killer diseases, as well as up-and-coming professors-cum-CEOs drawing venture capital to Madison so they could transfer their ideas into the marketplace. Our vision was to tell the story of the Wisconsin Idea in the 21st century, to provide a forum for the sifting and winnowing dialogue the university was famous for, and to connect those conversations to the larger economic fabric of the community and the quality of life we cherish here. It was a bold vision, but Brian only operated in big-ideas mode, and I was more than ready to share the responsibility for making it happen.

When we published the 2003 article, “Higher Education at the Crossroads,” we hoped the Chancellor’s “wake-up call” on funding for public education, and his opinions about UW’s enormous influence on our local and state’s “ailing economy” might raise a few eyebrows, even stimulate some much-needed debate on the subject. We were wrong. Even Wiley, in the first draft of the follow-up column he published in the magazine this month, called the original effort “largely unsuccessful.” He did, though, defend his premise that higher education was at a crossroads, which is why he said he felt compelled to try again five years later. This time, he told readers, the situation has evolved “From Crossroads to Crisis.” This time, his voice has been heard.

Brian, who died of lung cancer in November 2003, would have loved the recent buzz after last Thursday’s posting of the article online, which included wire stories on CNNMoney.com and Forbes.com. Ironically, the cogent, well-written and remarkably candid article earned statewide and national attention and praise in part because the business lobby group he chastises, Wisconsin Manufacturers and Commerce, quickly issued a press release to “Wisconsin editors” challenging Wiley’s assertions. It wasn’t exactly the kind of damage control I was expecting, but I guess that’s why I’m in journalism and not politics.

I have to thank our sister media enterprise WISC-TV, which reach further out into the southern Wisconsin region than Madison Magazine does, for breaking the story for us the evening before the magazine came out. Political reporter Jessica Arp conducted a compelling interview with Chancellor Wiley (search for "Wiley" to see interview highlights) and Marc Lovicott’s strong reporting led to some revealing information about the storm that’s brewing inside the closely guarded doors of the WMC. The story headlined another sister entity Channel3000.com, and it's huge viewership helped deliver record traffic to the story on our website. Both Madison newspapers printed stories and editorials, which contributed richly to the dialogue, and Journal Sentinel reporters sniffed out some conflicting statements made by the WMC.

For my part, it was extremely rewarding to edit both of the articles Wiley published in the magazine. The Chancellor is a strong writer who is always open to suggestions for ways to tighten his writing, sharpen the focus and clarify his points. There’s nothing I love more about my job than to work with a writer to make every word count. “Our politics has become a poisonous swill” is my favorite passage in the piece—once again proving the pen to be mightier than the sword. Of course, Professor Wiley’s academic side came out when I removed his footnotes in favor of the journalistic use of attributions, but thanks to the Internet we were able to hyperlink his references in the online version of the story. I think he was relieved.

Whether or not you agree with Wiley—and I made it clear in a testy phone call from the WMC that a column of opinion was not an editorial endorsement—the immediate and for the most part praiseworthy reaction to the article (I was told he received a standing ovation at this week’s downtown Rotary meeting) is an important signal to citizens, politicians and business leaders that we are indeed in a crisis and solutions need to come next.

Fall Essential

I stopped liking baseball in the third grade, when I came off right field with a shiner from a fly ball my glove forgot to catch. I’m not a Wisconsin native or a baseball fan, either, which is why I’m surprised at how much fun I’ve been having watching everybody cheer wildly for the Brewers this season. And now that I’ve read Tom Haudricourt’s book, Brewers Essential: Everything You Need To Know To Be A Real Fan, I can hold a semi-intelligent conversation on a barstool. With so much human drama in the dugout, on the field and behind the scenes, I can see why it was dubbed America’s favorite pastime. That’s not to say there’s never a dull moment—baseball will always have a hard time keeping my attention—but now that I’m a “real fan” I’ll pay more attention to the notable ones.

Brewers Essential is packed with more than a half-century of highlights and lowlights, club facts and trivia, intimate conversations and memorable moments among players and management—the kind of stuff only a talented and trusted reporter like Haudricourt could capture. If you’re a true-blue Brewers fan, the book is a wonderful trip down memory lane, from the early years as the Milwaukee Braves, to the dark days in the sixties when baseball was dead in the city, to the thrilling moment when Bud Selig brought the Seattle Pilots to the Midwest and the Milwaukee Brewers were born. Haudricourt of course spends some time on the famous/infamous 1982 season, the only World Series run the team ever had. It’s where you really get a feel for what the game was like before free agents and monster salaries take over.

From start to finish, the book is written with such authority and compassion for the team that even the lean years—which apparently was most of them—were fun to read about. After all, it led us to now, where the Brewers are back in contention for the pennant.

Between the Brewers' busy August schedule, Tom kindly answered a few questions about the language of baseball, 2008 season highlights and more from the team’s newest fan.

The book is such a great mixture of your play-by-play storytelling style, which is so much fun, and recollections from all the greats. Can you explain how you gathered the material? A lot of the material I pulled out of past stories from the old Sentinel and Journal, then the Journal Sentinel (after the merger in 1995). A lot of those stories were written by me, which shows how long I’ve been around. I then went around and interviewed many of the players and club officials involved, and asked them to tell me stories I might not have heard before. I wanted to provide insight from their viewpoint, including conversations and occurrences that might not have been publicly documented. Basically, I wanted to give the readers an “inside” look at memorable moments in Brewers history that might tell them things they hadn’t heard previously.

I love all the nicknames in baseball—Harvey’s Wallbangers, Bambi’s Bombers, Stormin’ Gorman, The Kid—Are they a product of a bygone era? Baseball writers talk all the time about the nicknames going away, and how unfortunate that is. Perhaps it’s our fault. Perhaps we should give more players nicknames, whether they want them or not. But a lot of the color has gone from the game, as it has become more of a business. Maybe the players don’t want nicknames because they’ll get razzed by teammates. Who knows? That, along with men wearing hats, are two things I’d like to bring back to the game.

I noticed you didn’t interview pitcher Teddy Higuera, who broke some impressive club records in the eighties. How come? Teddy's difficult to get hold of, and to be honest with you, his English is not good enough to come over that well in a book. He does OK, and he tries, but it’s still limited. Thus, I thought it would be better to talk to others about him. Former catcher Bill Schroeder gave me some real insights on Higuera.

As I was reading the book, it dawned on me that there are no coaches in baseball, only managers. Can you help a newbie out on this one? Well, there are coaches. Each manager has a staff of coaches. There are pitching coaches, hitting coaches, third base coaches, first base coaches, bullpen coaches. But the ringleader is the manager. Just the way the game was developed. The manager in essence is the equivalent of “head coaches” in other sports.

The sports world is all about numbers and statistics, but I was astonished at how often one record or another was being broken. It feels like a bigger deal in baseball … is it? I think records are more revered in baseball because there are more of them, with such legendary names as Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron and Cy Young associated with them. That’s why there was such a big stink about the so-called “Steroids Era” and the offensive records that were shattered during that time in baseball. Many purists believe those records shouldn’t count, that they are tainted. But because we’ll never know exactly who was cheating and who wasn’t, it’s virtually impossible to place asterisks by all records during that time.

I was a summer intern at the Journal Sentinel in 1999. I had just finished a day shift when the crane collapsed at Miller Park. Later that night, I logged onto the newspaper’s website for an update and couldn’t believe how many stories–good, solid, well-reported stories—had been filed. I had so much respect for the hard work and dedication that newspaper reporters and editors devote to the craft day in and day out. Where were you when “Big Blue” went down? I had just returned from the All-Star Game in Boston. That was such a tremendous experience, with the appearance of Ted Williams and all that. Then to come back and see the horror of the crane collapse. Ironically, I had done a story on Big Blue a few weeks prior to the collapse as part of a series I did on the building of Miller Park. That story was used as reference by our other reporters that day and I believe was put back on our website so readers could see what that crane was all about. It is days such as that, whether the subject matter be horrifying or uplifting, that show what newspaper staffs are made of. The next day, I followed commissioner Bud Selig to the opening of Safeco Field in Seattle. I’ve never seen a man with such mixed emotions. He was so happy for the people of Seattle, but so sad and heartbroken about what had happened at Miller Park, especially the loss of life.

A few weeks after the accident, I covered the hard-hat game with the families of the ironworkers who lost their lives in the accident as well as all the construction workers. It was amazing to me the sense of pride these people had in that project. Did you find the same thing? Those ironworkers were immensely proud of that project, and deservedly so. They were building a landmark for the city. After the accident and deaths of their co-workers, they became even more determined to see the project through and build a memorial, if you will, to those who died. I thought it was great the way the Brewers honored those ironworkers, including wearing patches on their uniforms for the remainder of the ’99 season.

Has the book—or the one you published last year called Where Have You Gone, ’82 Brewers?—gotten a bump in publicity or sales with the kind of season the Brewers are having? It’s always beneficial when a team plays well when you’re writing a book about its history. Originally, Brewers Essential was supposed to be published in the spring of 2007. But the Brewers didn’t play that well in ’06 and the publisher, Triumph Books, decided to delay publication for a year. The Brewers fought for the division title right down to the wire in ’07 and I added a chapter about that season. The book then came out this year with hopes higher for the team than in many years, which turned out to be a nice bit of timing.

You’re a great sportswriter. I got the biggest kick out of your creative turns of phrase. A “gimpy-kneed Gorman Thomas” is my personal favorite. Another fun one is in the chapter, “The Big Tease,” which is about the team’s almost-comeback 2007 season. On Prince Fielder’s inside-the-park home run against the Twins, you write: “He did a few chopsteps at the bag and emptied his gas tank.” Where do you come up with this stuff?! Baseball, and sports in general, provides the leeway for using descriptive phrases you might not be able to use in pure news stories. And every night there seems to be something different to write about. I try to be as descriptive as possible so that the reader can picture in his mind what I’m writing about. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, a few well-crafted words can paint a pretty vivid picture.

If you were writing the next chapter of your book on the ’08 season right now, what would be one highlight? If I were writing a chapter on the 2008 season right now, one of the highlights would be the four-game sweep of St. Louis on the road just after the all-star break that was part of a 7-0 trip. Two late home runs by Bill Hall and another by Ryan Braun snatched victories away from the Cardinals in dramatic fashion. Had those games been in the post-season, folks would have talked about them for years.

The situation is obviously completely different, but I still couldn’t help thinking about Favre and the Packers’ fallout when I read about Paul Molitor’s rocky departure from the Brewers. What’s your take on it—and on Favre if you care to comment? I heard a lot of comparisons to Paul Molitor’s departure when the Brett Favre saga was playing out. One of the main differences was that the Brewers were stripping down their payroll at the time and jettisoning a lot of players. Many Packer fans consider the team a Super Bowl contender with Favre, which raises the stakes. Plus, a quarterback is so much more high profile than any baseball player is. I think the story of Favre’s departure will have much longer legs than the exodus of Molitor.

Diving Into Diversity

I'm late to post! What a week. For the last few months I've been working on another magazine. It's called Spectrum: Celebrating Diversity in the Madison Area, and we'll publish it in January, along with the regular issue of Madison Magazine. We'll also overprint 70,000 of them for you to pick up at key spots around the city and region. Finally, the businesses sponsoring the publication will integrate it into their recruitment and retainment portfolios.

Initiated by an up-and-coming business collaboration called the Madison Area Diversity Roundtable, the magazine is the first of its kind in the community. Not only will it highlight the broad diversity we enjoy here in Madison, it will shine a more inclusive light on how we live, work and play together. All of us. Black and white. Young and old. Gay and straight. Walking and wheelchair-bound. Academics like Richard Florida (The Rise of the Creative Class and Who's Your City?) and business consultants like Madison’s own Rebecca Ryan (Live First, Work Second) are showing us how and why it's to our economical advantage to place a high priority on diverse communities and workplaces. Now it's our turn to show what it could look like.

I'm excited that former Cap Times web editor Shauna Rhone has signed on to write and edit a large portion of it. Her resume is impressive, and she understands and appreciates Spectrum’s goals. Shauna and I have gotten to know each other over the last year or so as part of another cool project, Race & Media Forums. Coordinated by The Center for Democracy in Action, the program brings together members of the media with people and institutions of color for social and professional conversation and networking. We'll feature the forums in Spectrum, along with a lot of other exciting and innovative ways Madison is embracing diversity.

Lately Madison has also embraced the Brewers with a fervor I’ve never experienced in my fourteen years living in Wisconsin. That’s why I’m spending the weekend reading the recently released book, Brewers Essential: Everything You Need To Know To Be A Real Fan, by Tom Haudricourt of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. I need to play some serious catch up on the team and its history, plus I’m going to interview Tom for my next blog. This Virginia girl has her work cut out for her to earn her "real fan" stripes.

Achy, Breaky Hearts

Madison Magazine contributing writer Maggie Ginsberg-Schutz blogged for a year, retired last month, then pulled a Favre last night and posted a blog at the behest of somebody named Amanda, who told her a web-zine named BlogNosh was featuring some of her oldies but goodies. I'm glad she's back honing her craft because she's one of the most gifted writers I've ever worked with and if we're lucky she's got, like, a hundred more years of journalism ahead of her.

I told Mags that while I'm delighted she's blogging again, I take issue with her lumping magazines in with the following comment:

"I keep reading about the death of newspapers, of magazines, of my field, the drying up, the washing out. My gut tells me there is something to this online community, this forum, that maybe my future lies not in the traditional journalism, but in a hybrid of sorts."

Magazines and magazine readership are fine, dammit!--and especially with younger readers: Madison Magazine boasts more people in the 18-34 age demographic than ever. Take that, all you advertisers flocking to the web!

Unfortunately, some of the same can't be said for newspapers, though the recent Editor & Publisher report that readership hasn't declined much at all since 2006 was a bright spot in an otherwise dark and dismal landscape. So bright that I blogged on about it two entries back.

But if you're like me and rooting for newspapers—and the journalists they're shedding like a dog's fur come fall—you'll appreciate this effort by the Columbia Journalism Review to capture the voices of the veteran reporters who've been downsized. Imagine how difficult it must be for those affected to see their lives, their livelihoods, and their loyalties change in an instant.

I forwarded the posts to some of my colleagues who've taken The Cap Times buyout or who've left their newspaper jobs of their own accord after seeing the writing on the newsroom wall. I hope they'll contribute. I'll keep checking the CJR posts—they're running one a day right now—in the hopes that I'll see a familiar byline. Madison's chapter in this ever-evolving book has gained national attention and our struggles need to continue to be told.

If I were writing a chapter in the story the nut graph would go something like this: Amid the age of Internet, wonderful, talented writers who happen to also be trained professionals are being asked to stop covering the news of our communities and our world. If they won't, who will? That's my biggest fear. Who will be fair and balanced? Who will accurately, ethically and with integrity report the news? Who will want to major in journalism and populate the news outlets left standing after all this said and done? Where's my next Maggie?

Fortunately, she's out there. I put an ad for writers on Craigslist and since have been inundated with strong resumes and interesting, well-written clips. (Mostly.) But that's only one leg of the stool that supports and sustains the good publications that will still have these talented folks. Citizen-consumers have to purchase and subscribe, and businesses have to advertise. And if a newspaper isn't the news, weather and information vehicle that we want to invest in anymore—though I hope it's not—then we have to choose something else.

I agree with Maggie that journalism's future will be a "hybrid of sorts." I'm just not smart enough to figure out what that will be. Whatever we end up with, we need those people that have little to do at the moment except pour their hearts out to CJR. I have faith, though. Journalists became journalists because they are curious, adventurous and enterprising. Look at The Politico. A couple of guys (and a very rich businessman) voluntarily left The Washington Post to start the Washington-centric website that, according to Wikipedia, "is rumored to get 14 million hits a day."

Oh, and it publishes a NEWSPAPER three days a week when Congress is in session, too. How novel. A newspaper.