Brent Wheat
My final newspaper column:
It’s been a busy day. Sitting here at the keyboard as the clock approaches midnight, sunburned, profoundly tired and facing yet another weekly deadline, there is just one thing I need to say.
It’s over.
A thought has been swirling around my head for several months concerning the long-term prospects of this column. After considering all the terrible problems facing the newspaper business, multiplied exponentially by the changes within my own life, it seems that the only rational decision is to close up shop and move on.
According to my unorganized records, this column started approximately 18 years ago when I finally convinced an editor that the world would be a better place if they printed a few hundred words of my outdoor rant every week. To everyone’s surprise, it happened. This continued for about two years until I had the temerity to ask for compensation for my efforts. That request brought a sudden end to the column.
After a hiatus of a year, the new editor called me out of the blue and offered a weekly slot for a then-astounding sum of money. I hadn’t even hung up the phone before walking across Cloud Nine through Twenty.
Since that time, this major affront to grammar and logic has appeared nearly every week. Even better, as time passed, editors across the state took either pity or notice until the column eventually appeared in 15 newspapers across Indiana. Thing were wonderful for many years until storm clouds began to gather on the horizon.
It is no secret that the newspaper business is changing. Several weeks ago I wrote a column bemoaning the decline of the local outdoors columnist as newspapers grew smaller, advertising revenues evaporated and the entire media industry became a study in turmoil. Many people inquired if that column was the final chapter in this long journey.
I assured them it wasn’t.
However, over time I began to wonder if it wasn’t some subconscious sign of an inner conflict. We now know the answer.
The number of newspapers publishing this column has declined significantly and, with a few very-appreciated exceptions, receiving timely payment has become more challenging than finding a whooping crane that can solve quadratic equations.
In spite of declining readership and thinning paychecks, producing stories every week still requires the same significant investment of forethought, creativity, research and old-fashioned elbow grease. As time passed, there was a growing internal argument over the significant cost versus declining benefits of producing this column.
A week ago, literally while I was taking a shower, it suddenly struck me. The moment has finally come to bid adieu on this significant part of my life.
Spanning decades and hundreds of columns, it would take another year just to cover the highlights of our past adventures. My children have grown up, several hunting dogs gone onto their final reward and uncounted moments have been shared in black-and-white newsprint. The column even outlasted a marriage.
This weekly meeting has been a source of pride, embarrassment, joy, pain, consternation and every other possible emotion on the spectrum; I will miss it dearly. However, nothing is permanent and I firmly believe that there are moments in life when we need to shake off our comfortable existence and confront new challenges. This is how we grow.
I’m not necessarily saying that this column will never again appear in print. My fear is that after a restful month-long hiatus, I will sorely want to again want to share the latest misadventure with both regular readers. Unfortunately, convincing editors to pick up a “new” column would be slightly more complicated than building a space shuttle in your backyard so I don’t see a return engagement.
In my future there are several magazine articles sitting on the back burner, a book that was essentially finished but never shopped to publishers and even a television project that is scheduled to begin shooting in the fall. Supposedly I’ll have a regular segment on a new shooting program but I’ve been through the dance of promises before. We’ll see what happens.
Regardless, I need to make this break but I’m not going down happily. There is an overwhelming feeling of bittersweet as I prepare to hit the send button because it feels like I’m saying a final goodbye to an old friend. Actually, there are uncounted old friends on the other side of the printed page. For that, I am profoundly thankful.
The ride has been enjoyable for me and I hope entertaining and informative for you. There will now be a void in my life but the memories of occasionally touching people deeply via printed word will always overwhelm the ache of the extinct past.
For now, I guess there is nothing more to say but…goodbye.
-30-
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Posted by Brent on 9/03/09 • Categorized as Out in the Open columns,Special Features,WildBlog
Brent Wheat
My final newspaper column:
It’s been a busy day. Sitting here at the keyboard as the clock approaches midnight, sunburned, profoundly tired and facing yet another weekly deadline, there is just one thing I need to say.
It’s over.
A thought has been swirling around my head for several months concerning the long-term prospects of this column. After considering all the terrible problems facing the newspaper business, multiplied exponentially by the changes within my own life, it seems that the only rational decision is to close up shop and move on.
According to my unorganized records, this column started approximately 18 years ago when I finally convinced an editor that the world would be a better place if they printed a few hundred words of my outdoor rant every week. To everyone’s surprise, it happened. This continued for about two years until I had the temerity to ask for compensation for my efforts. That request brought a sudden end to the column.
After a hiatus of a year, the new editor called me out of the blue and offered a weekly slot for a then-astounding sum of money. I hadn’t even hung up the phone before walking across Cloud Nine through Twenty.
Since that time, this major affront to grammar and logic has appeared nearly every week. Even better, as time passed, editors across the state took either pity or notice until the column eventually appeared in 15 newspapers across Indiana. Thing were wonderful for many years until storm clouds began to gather on the horizon.
It is no secret that the newspaper business is changing. Several weeks ago I wrote a column bemoaning the decline of the local outdoors columnist as newspapers grew smaller, advertising revenues evaporated and the entire media industry became a study in turmoil. Many people inquired if that column was the final chapter in this long journey.
I assured them it wasn’t.
However, over time I began to wonder if it wasn’t some subconscious sign of an inner conflict. We now know the answer.
The number of newspapers publishing this column has declined significantly and, with a few very-appreciated exceptions, receiving timely payment has become more challenging than finding a whooping crane that can solve quadratic equations.
In spite of declining readership and thinning paychecks, producing stories every week still requires the same significant investment of forethought, creativity, research and old-fashioned elbow grease. As time passed, there was a growing internal argument over the significant cost versus declining benefits of producing this column.
A week ago, literally while I was taking a shower, it suddenly struck me. The moment has finally come to bid adieu on this significant part of my life.
Spanning decades and hundreds of columns, it would take another year just to cover the highlights of our past adventures. My children have grown up, several hunting dogs gone onto their final reward and uncounted moments have been shared in black-and-white newsprint. The column even outlasted a marriage.
This weekly meeting has been a source of pride, embarrassment, joy, pain, consternation and every other possible emotion on the spectrum; I will miss it dearly. However, nothing is permanent and I firmly believe that there are moments in life when we need to shake off our comfortable existence and confront new challenges. This is how we grow.
I’m not necessarily saying that this column will never again appear in print. My fear is that after a restful month-long hiatus, I will sorely want to again want to share the latest misadventure with both regular readers. Unfortunately, convincing editors to pick up a “new” column would be slightly more complicated than building a space shuttle in your backyard so I don’t see a return engagement.
In my future there are several magazine articles sitting on the back burner, a book that was essentially finished but never shopped to publishers and even a television project that is scheduled to begin shooting in the fall. Supposedly I’ll have a regular segment on a new shooting program but I’ve been through the dance of promises before. We’ll see what happens.
Regardless, I need to make this break but I’m not going down happily. There is an overwhelming feeling of bittersweet as I prepare to hit the send button because it feels like I’m saying a final goodbye to an old friend. Actually, there are uncounted old friends on the other side of the printed page. For that, I am profoundly thankful.
The ride has been enjoyable for me and I hope entertaining and informative for you. There will now be a void in my life but the memories of occasionally touching people deeply via printed word will always overwhelm the ache of the extinct past.
For now, I guess there is nothing more to say but…goodbye.
-30-
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