There are a few entities which continue to validate what I'm pursuing, but Joshua Topolsky and his Outline are particularly worth noting. In search of reassurance, I listened to a podcast he appeared on in February, last night, and also found one from 2013, when he was still EiC of The Verge. Basically the entirety of the first is within the idealism I've risked most of myself for, in case you're curious. I've looked up to Topolsky in a huge way, this past year.
He has done - and is doing - many things which I am intrinsically drawn to earn for my legacy, and the presence of his wife on his staff (their few podcasts together are adorable in a very particular way,) is idyllic in appearance, at least. I love the way they talk about each other. I suppose spousal editorial staff is probably the personal hell of a good many people. Perhaps, it's even my own.
Listening to him talk on Digiday, though, reminded me - along with a few other works I've consumed lately - that technically, Extratone is a business. Or at least... That it must become one eventually or die forever. While trying to explain my future plans to a friend, I inadvertently layed out some 'steps for growth.'
I guess we're somewhere between 2 and 3 right now. I'm still building a body of written work more or less on my own, which is okay, considering that nobody is paid. I suppose it'd be most desirable - before I move to the Northwest - to figure out how to make The Tone as much of a learning experience for my closest staff as possible. And regardless of all other external goals of the magazine, I think it is more than safe to say that I've learned more in the past 10 months from a fucking WordPress website than I would've if I'd spent that time at the Journalism school.
The first annual renewal payment for extratone dot com just went through, actually. A year ago, I was much more entertaining, but virtually directionless. I honestly can't tell if I feel any better internally, day-to-day, but I know I am at least attaining the capability of real friendship for the first time in my life, and I suppose that's more than worth losing virtually all of my engagement on Twitter. Perhaps its even worth losing a portion of the freshness in my perspective - the stuff I thought made it worth it in the first place. Especially if my staff maintains it healthily within their own.
I'll admit that - in retrospect, after spending a year reading, writing, and digitally fussing - a lot of my original content smells like edgy nonsense. Some of the work within our network does too, honestly, but it's usually much less so.
Of course, that transition required an excruciating crucible, for me, but that's exactly why I'm incessantly compelled to make as much use of my trauma as possible: so that my friends and staff may be able make progress toward more fulfilling lives without such a massive up-front cost.
As I was writing my interview with mastodon's creator, I kept an eye out for related coverage, and eventually saw what PCMag did, and it's unwanted rant-spuringly aggravating language. I've never been good at written interviews.
Anecdote: For my first assignment of my first news class in community college, my instructor - Heather - assigned me to write up a piece on a local sweets shop specifically because I begged for any beat but food. Looking back, I think it was wise, on her part, but the product could very well be the most tedious and stale collection of words I've ever been responsible for, on the worst website I've ever seen. So now... I'm going to share it with you.
I want to die.
Anyway.
We'll never know if I'd show signs of improvement, writing about food again. The craft in my interview with Eugen is not very flattering, but I'm working on making use of the vanity to improve it.
