2008 Woodie Awards
Editor's Forum
Entering the great world outside my shell
By: John Sakata
Issue date: 3/11/04 Section: Opinion
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Talking has never come easy for me, so as sports editor this year, the most difficult part from going from city news has been having to talk with a lot more writers.
I've always considered myself anti-social. I've never had very many friends, and it has never bothered me. But something started changing three semesters ago. There was no defining moment, where a man in a shiny black leather jacket asks me to choose a pill, red or blue.
The changes were subtle. I began questioning the time I would spend in the library reading magazines. I actually began seeking conversation in the classroom instead of sitting around waiting for class to start.
I now enjoy sitting around listening to a good conversation, even though sometimes I don't have anything to say. I've changed. The newspaper has changed me.
Being sports editor has been a surreal experience. For at least two days during production I know that my blood pressure is going to skyrocket, but I enjoy designing pages and editing stories, as well as knowing that I'm the only person to blame if the sports pages don't look the way they should.
It hasn't been easy. Knowing that you need to tell a writer that you plan to cut their article in half because the baseball team just won against Harbor is nerve racking.
Having to explain to writers why you made changes to their stories they might have thought was perfect isn't fun. Forced into a conundrum of explaining to beat writers how your mistake has left their articles worse than how they started is agonizing.
Talking isn't easy for me; having to tell others bad news makes it harder, but I believe things happen for a reason.
As a writer on the newspaper, one knows when conversations are going to happen. As a reporter, you set up times for interviews and make enough time to write an adequate number of questions.
As an editor, the people come out of nowhere. Beat writers hide amid a sea of people and seem to jump out at the least convenient times, with problems that threaten the status of an entire page. Telephone calls at 9 p.m. bring forth predicaments that leave my head spinning. However, give me the option of being an editor opposed to a writer, and I'll take on the responsibilities any day.
I've always considered myself anti-social. I've never had very many friends, and it has never bothered me. But something started changing three semesters ago. There was no defining moment, where a man in a shiny black leather jacket asks me to choose a pill, red or blue.
The changes were subtle. I began questioning the time I would spend in the library reading magazines. I actually began seeking conversation in the classroom instead of sitting around waiting for class to start.
I now enjoy sitting around listening to a good conversation, even though sometimes I don't have anything to say. I've changed. The newspaper has changed me.
Being sports editor has been a surreal experience. For at least two days during production I know that my blood pressure is going to skyrocket, but I enjoy designing pages and editing stories, as well as knowing that I'm the only person to blame if the sports pages don't look the way they should.
It hasn't been easy. Knowing that you need to tell a writer that you plan to cut their article in half because the baseball team just won against Harbor is nerve racking.
Having to explain to writers why you made changes to their stories they might have thought was perfect isn't fun. Forced into a conundrum of explaining to beat writers how your mistake has left their articles worse than how they started is agonizing.
Talking isn't easy for me; having to tell others bad news makes it harder, but I believe things happen for a reason.
As a writer on the newspaper, one knows when conversations are going to happen. As a reporter, you set up times for interviews and make enough time to write an adequate number of questions.
As an editor, the people come out of nowhere. Beat writers hide amid a sea of people and seem to jump out at the least convenient times, with problems that threaten the status of an entire page. Telephone calls at 9 p.m. bring forth predicaments that leave my head spinning. However, give me the option of being an editor opposed to a writer, and I'll take on the responsibilities any day.