Please allow me to introduce myself…

Typewriter Tales

Almost before I could read, I think I was reading newspapers. I remember sitting at my grandfather’s feet, sprawled out over the floor like an ink-splattered rug. At first, it was just the comic strips. I loved Peanuts because I’d seen Charlie Brown on television (I had already decided I was going to model myself after Peppermint Patty).

I’m not sure if my grandpa knew my only interest was in the colored illustrations, but he would ask me what I had learned from the paper at dinner. I knew describing how many ways you could persuade your young protégé to attempt to kick an illusive football would not be an appropriate answer. So I started reading the newspaper just to have something to say. Soon, I left the colored characters behind, searching the blocky text of serious articles for those two profound qualities all humans secretly long for: wisdom and truth. And because my younger brother got his claws on the comics first, of course.

Any writer can tell you there’s a magical moment when your words hit print. When everything stops being make-believe and starts being real. That was what it felt when I first started working as a reporter for the Lake County Leader in Polson. Putting something in newsprint makes something seem more “official” somehow, the boundary between fantasy and fact. Oh my gosh, I’m a writer now.

I’ll be looking for that same moment today when the Clark Fork Valley Press and the Mineral Independent come back fresh from the press. Oh my gosh, I’m an editor now.

Of course, I’ve had that sense before — I was editor of my high school literary magazine — but it doesn’t really count until you start cashing the checks.

Just as I’ll be feeling something new when I look at my paper, I hope you’ll be feeling something new when you look at yours. You’ll probably notice a few changes to the paper over the next few weeks, from front page layout to new regular, editorial features. I’m not going to tell you what they are because I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I know the paper has gone through a lot of changes lately — including staff — but I hope that, in the end, you’ll be satisfied. Forgive us the tiny hiccups along the way.

But if you aren’t satisfied, feel free to tell me. I want this newspaper to be a greater part of this community than it already is. I would love to have people storming down my door demanding we change our neglectful ways. I won’t always agree with you, but I want to know your opinion.

For that reason, I’m offering a general invitation to swing by our office, even if it’s just to say hello. Monday and Tuesdays are busy as we fight the deadline blues, but Wednesday through Friday I’ll probably be able to stop what I’m doing for a short chat — particularly if you come during 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Thursdays when I’ll be eating lunch during my official “office hour.” Unless I’m out on assignment, you can guarantee that I’ll always be available to talk.

I’ll be especially delighted if you come by with story ideas. Being new in town, I don’t know who just came back from the spectacular vacation hunting bears in Alaska. I won’t know what to cover if you don’t tell me. So if you don’t pick up the phone and give us a ring, you have absolutely no right to complain that we didn’t write about something you care deeply about. Better yet, bring us your pictures and your nonfiction articles (the shorter, the better — for reference, this column is 750 words) and you might see your work in print.

Don’t want to make the drive to our office? My e-mail is jmcbride@vp-mi.com and our office phone number is 826-3402. If you’d prefer to send us a comment by snail mail, our address is P.O. Box 667, Plains, MT 59859. While you’re at it, cut out the survey at the bottom of the page, fill it out and mail it in. We’ll be running some of your notes in a future issue, with all names blanked out, of course.

One of the things I learned at my grandfather’s knee is that newspapers aren’t about the staff, they’re about the readers. And though I model myself on Snoopy now instead of Peppermint Patty, some lessons you never forget.