I’m still going through the emotions that come when something big and important in your life reaches a definitive end.
We all saw it coming.
There’d been a steady stream of articles over the last few weeks in other publications narrating our impending demise. The stories highlighted our business model built for yesterday’s internet, bad budgeting and a foundational belief that we could find ginormous numbers of readers who wanted stories right down the middle of the plate during a political era when so many get their information from partisan bubbles.
Despite those headwinds, we were really just starting to hit our stride. The teams were gelling. Our journalists were getting prime time TV props. We were scoring big scoops. Readers were clicking. The news we covered was only getting more intense.
Now, our website is gone.
So are our paychecks, health care, benefits and the sense of security that comes with full-time work. My colleagues and I now join loads of other excellent journalists looking for our next opportunities in an industry that’s imploding and in desperate need of fresh ideas.
Which brings me back to love, journalism. I stated this Substack nearly a year ago on Valentine’s Day 2023 with a mission to humanize journalists like yours truly who keep getting entangled in their own complicated love/hate relationships with this thing called journalism.
I’ve kept the site dormant for these last many months to put my all into nurturing a new relationship with The Messenger. Then came yesterday’s break up.
We talk about our fun, crazy, sad and emotional journey together, driven by a love for journalism. #30#
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