From time to time, I say ok to one of those out-of-the blue requests from some magazine or other to republish something from my website. Mostly, it's particular pictures the magazines are after, and those often require me providing them with higher resolution files for print. A few times, a destination-oriented blog entry (or old-style web page) has been reprinted verbatim. I never ask for compensation - this is a hobby, not a career aspiration - and it was kind of a sweet surprise to get an honorarium from one paper, not just a copy of the publication. Even nicer, a few months later they asked for a different story, I again said yes, they again sent the honorarium. Not long ago, I discovered some of my pictures in use by a South American newspaper, illustrating an innocuous sort of story. They didn't ask, though they gave me a photo credit (otherwise, I would never have found it). This has happened a few times, finding my pictures elsewhere, and the only times I've said anything were when it was websites trying to sell shit. Then I choose to point out the copyright thing, and ask for withdrawal. If that gets no action, I entertain myself by switching the image with something they *don't* want on their website (because, not surprisingly, the sorts of "businesses" who steal pictures from blogs instead of paying for stock photography also steal your bandwidth to display them!)
I have no ego thing wrapped up in things I write, or so I thought at least. I *know* they're not well thought out, I am under no illusion that I am honing a writer's craft, I don't think my pictures are particularly special, and I'm not under any illusion that I am A Photographer or A Writer. (You only need to send one paper of to peer review to know definitively that you're not that great... you try working in an area where this is a routine part of the feedback you receive...)
Turns out, I have a tiny bit of ego. See, one of the things I said ok to this summer was a new magazine, one that I hadn't heard of and wouldn't have been able to look at if I wanted to check it out because this was for the premiere issue. And, let's be honest, I wouldn't have bothered, again, because I don't care - I talked to the guy on the phone, I said sure, he had his art director email me which pictures she wanted, and we were done. I forgot all about it. That is, until I got the magazine in the mail last week.
It sucks. The art direction is fine, if a bit cheesy. The articles are well written enough, if lacking in content beyond "blurb" level. The very worst article in there is the one with my name on it. When you have one of your junior editors "condense" a blog entry into an "article", you get a choppy, unfunny piece-o-crap. Thing is, even though I'm busy, if the dude had told me what he wants ("I need a piece about 2000 words long which introduces the "paddling" style of boating to a readership not necessarily familiar with non-motorized forms of transportation, and it would be good if it were destination-oriented"), I could have spit out a piece that is 10x better than what ended up in print in one draft. No matter how good the art direction or how pretty the pictures, what they printed is... shite. The pictures turned out well, though. They used all the ones I gave them, and I think they're some of the nicest in the magazine. That's not saying that much, though.
Worse than my article is my response to the magazine generally. Here are the categories: cruising, cottage recreational, fishing, performance, PWCs, sailing and canoe&kayak. I think sailing is cool. I have no issue with fishing. I can see the appeal of cruising. The speed-oriented performance and personal watercraft sections make me feel much like walking past a fraternity keg party does these days: keep going, nothing interesting here. And then, flipping through the "cruising" section, I come across wonderful advice like "Use paper plates - this has to be fun for you and nobody enjoys washing dishes!" This gem 18 pages past the piece on eco-rated marinas. At least the advice wasn't followed up with "oh, and when you head in for a shore lunch, take those paper plates and dump them in the bushes, nobody enjoys having garbage on board". I know, I'm over-reacting, but I have seen *so much* evidence of *exactly* this on Georgian Bay that it would not have been out of place for the magazine to include a bit on waste treatement (including wastewater treatment - I watched a powerboat dump hundreds of gallons of grey water into the Bay not long ago...)
I also read the article on how to have tunes on board, even when you are underway at high speed, with interest. "You can get power booster amplifiers, sub woofers and even overhead speaers for your wakeboard and tower or flying bridge to put music where everyone will enjoy it." (Though, to be fair, that page had a "please be courteous" box.)
Also, did you know that Barbara Bush, Stockwell Day and Shania Twain are PWC devotees? (Yeah, you now Mr. Day likes to hang out in a wetsuit, you remember those commercials.) It's not saying much that Shania Twain is the one in that list I find most interesting. Oh, speaking of interesting, it's a good idea for women to get into the PWC thing, cause the "average" buyer is 41, male, and single. Yeah. No further comment. Ok, one more - the very next article, on "must have accessories" shows you how to "put the pimp in PWC".
Sigh. I wish I could go on a trip that includes no generators, "performance", PWCs or sound systems. I'll do the dishes. I think I'd still enjoy it.
(Know what I don't enjoy? The "final" final edits on a book that has my name on it, among others. I don't get an honorarium for that one either, but, hey, I get a paycheque. I am not just Published Author, I am Co-Editor with Accepted Book. Oh, and typist with a sticking "k" on her eyboard, I mean kkkkkkkkkkkkkeyboard.)
Posted by Johanna at September 25, 2006 08:22 PM