Sad Happens and other truths
Sad Happens and other truths
In the words of Nina LaCour, "Sending a joyful book into a painful world."
One of my favorite authors, Nina LaCour, started her most recent newsletter with these words, under the subject line, Sending a joyful book into a painful world:
Each day over the past couple weeks, I've told myself I would send you this letter about my new book, and each day I've read the news and just haven't been able to. With so much horror in the world, the act of sharing something I've made feels deeply discordant, uncomfortable to say the least. But my book comes out in a week, and it's a story full of love and community, a story that values the small, daily interactions of living among other people, which is what keeps so many of us going when we feel powerless. And I want to tell you about it. So I'm writing to you today, in hopes that you'll welcome a little glimmer of joy.
I keep coming back to these words as I try to write this edition of my own newsletter in such a horror-filled time, and finally have decided that I couldn’t say it better than she has.
Like Nina, I want to tell you about this new book, SAD HAPPENS: A CELEBRATION OF TEARS, for which I contributed an essay about crying as a journalist. And despite the seemingly downer of a topic, I, too, feel it is a story of love and community, of small daily interactions that keep us going when we feel powerless. It truly is a celebration of tears: a welcoming in, an invitation, tribute. I certainly felt that way last night at the book launch in New York, where I read my piece (right after poet and icon Eileen Myles, which was an impossible act to follow!).
As I write in my essay for the book, there’s often a question of whose tears are “allowed” in journalism. The answer is almost always not the journalist’s. And that’s mostly for good reason: the story isn’t about you as the reporter and you shouldn’t take the focus away from your subject. But also, I can’t tell you how many stories I’ve cried over as a journalist, usually in a rental car or Marriott or airport bathroom. And I think that’s ok. I’m a person, too, and a better journalist for coming to each story with my full emotions and humanity.
As we all engage with the news (big and small) and the world around us (big and small), my hope would be that we all feel free to cry some well-deserved tears. There’s a lot to cry about, both sad and happy tears.
SAD HAPPENS is out now! You can buy your copy anywhere books are sold, but if you buy through this link on Bookshop, it benefits me and independent bookstores.
After the hubbub of this summer, launching 24 Hours in Charlottesville, raising money for survivors through our mutual aid fund (which is still accepting donations— see the post below for instructions!), and doing lots of press, I’ve finally gotten back into writing articles.
I try to post each article I write on Instagram (@noraneus), but here are three of the most meaningful ones:
For Poynter, I wrote about right-wing mass shootings and the responsibility that journalists have to accurately cover them as right-wing terrorism.
For The Guardian, I wrote about the final demise of Charlottesville’s Robert E Lee statue as antiracist activists melted it down in a fiery inferno.
For Teen Vogue, I wrote about an inspiring trans teen activist from Utah who is fighting the state’s anti-trans laws.
Finally, I’ve been experimenting with offering ethical media training in a more formal way. These are questions I get and conversations I have all the time: How can I best get my ideas across in an interview? Do I really have to talk to sound bites? There’s this one question I don’t want to answer, how do I avoid it?
I love having those conversations, mostly because I love that they’re actually asking a journalist, not a PR or marketing person. Nothing against PR folks (I work with them all the time!) but most media training is taught from a somewhat combative perspective. The basic advice tends to be to speak in sound bites, push your product or viewpoint no matter what question you’re asked, and generally outsmart the interviewer. And as a journalist, that is so incredibly frustrating and counterproductive.
So, I’m experimenting with offering ethical media training, taught by a journalist with eight years experience in the industry (me), at a price point that more folks could actually afford ($275 for a 50 min session, but also let’s chat if that’s beyond what you can afford and you’re interested.) For more information, check out my website.
If you’re still here, thanks for reading this far. It’s a painful world, but there are also glimpses of hope and beauty. For me, a lot of that comes through books. I hope you find space and time to chase those glimpses in your own life.
Nora