It's not easy.
Coming up with an interesting, thought-provoking, and just-controversial-enough article once per week, every week is undoubtedly taxing. Granted, I could put out a few thoughtless, effortless pieces just to say I met the deadline, but as Oscar Wilde would say, "I'd sooner die." Journalism, even at such an amateur level, is meant to be perfectly fashioned so that the reader's initial opinions are challenged without being attacked or offended. Every bout of sarcasm is strategic and every sentence has an identifiable purpose. Striking a balance between merit and humor, selecting a topic in uncharted territory, and trying to appeal to readers with grace and wit is not always easily done by every Friday evening.
It's not fair.
Do I try my best to craft every article to communicate an important message and/or relate to the readers beyond the surface? Absolutely. Have I ever reached the "top shared" list of weekly articles for my campus? Absolutely not. Writing, like anything else, is politics. If you're looking to win the game, you have to please the people. Personally, I don't care how many times the writer of "An Open Letter To The Boy Who Broke My Heart" wins a cash prize, I would rather put out a unique piece with insight and character than receive a reward for a cliche, and often grammatically incorrect, page from my diary. Maybe most college students would rather read and share a generic article about friendship than a philosophical piece that challenges societal behavior, and that's perfectly fine. A dedicated and successful writer must understand that popularity is not necessarily indicative of quality. Open letters to ex-boyfriends and broken friendships will probably continue to be victorious over the writing I work hard to publish, but that does not make me any less proud of the pieces I create.
It's not glamorous.
Perhaps you imagine a young writer as a person who can pull off thick-framed glasses, converses in witty prose and Shakespeare quotes, holds up the line at Starbucks , and is always equipped with a little notebook for their sudden flashes of insight. All I can say to that is: nope. Usually my natural writing habitat is me sitting cross-legged at a desk chair in my sweatpants, rethinking every piece I've ever written, and wishing I knew how to sound well-versed as I shout insults at thesaurus.com for not being able to show me that ambiguous word for which "I know but can't think of right now!" Maybe one day I'll find myself writing something eloquent at an outdoor cafe, but for right now, I'll keep thinking of new ways to get mad at my laptop for acting out during that rare moment in which I actually know what to write about.
It's worth it.
So we've established that writing for an online newspaper with no compensation takes more effort than a burnt out college student can give, is rarely rewarding or actually fair, and usually involves sweatpants, frustration, and zero espressos. At the end of the day, however, I know that applying for the job was one of the best decisions of my first year. If nothing else, I have the ability to publish an article when I'm passionate about an issue instead of posting an "angsty" Facebook status that no one would actually read. Being a college amateur journalist may seem insignificant, but it opens the door for so many opportunities in the field of communication, media, literature, and self-expression (and I'm not even an English major). So maybe I started off with an interest in metaphorical analysis of literature and ended up writing sarcastic articles about being an introvert, but maybe I'll be the female J.D. Salinger of the 21st century. Probably not, but a girl can dream.
