… and there it is; My very first newspaper article.

This article is proof that pestering an editor for a good couple of weeks, heeds good results. Unfortunately a freelance wage wasn’t feasible but I have fully accepted that un-paid work is a must when seeking a career in journalism. If there’s any advice I could give to future graduates, particularly journalism/media based, do not expect job opportunities to be handed to you on a platter where you’re spoilt for choice and the most gruelling decision you’ll have to make is what employer you have to turn down. ‘Cos in all honesty… it could take years.. But if you want it enough, that won’t even be a drop in the ocean. You have to think of the bigger picture… You might be a runner, an intern, an unpaid freelance writer for a good few years but could land that job role you’ve always wanted by the age of 25, with decades ahead of you. 

I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the article…

I chose to write about something I knew a lot about; vintage fashion. 

So, it was planned. It was decided. My incessant emailing had paid off. 

I first felt disbelief and then relief, ‘cos 1) I got an opportunity to get my writing published and 2) It would be about something I was truly passionate about. 

I spent a Saturday morning walking around the town with the paper’s photographer, whilst interviewing shop owner’s about their stock and businesses. It was then that I realised I was actually doing my first, proper piece of journalism. 

I met my deadline and I waited… it was probably more painful than waiting for their initial response ‘cos my I put my work out there and was expecting it to bounce back with numerous edits before printing. 

I came home on Friday, opened the newspaper and there it was… a DOUBLE PAGE SPREAD. 

"I am officially a published writer…" [I kept telling myself… in my head of course] It took a while to sink in  and I spent that night sat, slightly bemused, excited for the future whilst swigging on a bottle of Apple cider. It was then I felt like I could do anything. But like all aspiring journalists, when one project finishes, panic ensues at the the thought of waiting for another… I wonder what my next step will be and where it will take me… but until I figure this out, I’m going to enjoy this little dream for a while.

You know what, there was a little part of me that did feel like Ms. Bradshaw, writing for her local paper, indulging in one of her many passions; fashion, writing about it, and sharing it with her city. 

Now, where’s my next project?! 

Grazia?!