An insight into an attempt at becoming a journalist- a bit of background

Sat at a well lit desk surrounded by those who are being paid to do a job that is all I seem to think, eat and dream about.

They all seem to relish in their profession, sat with slightly smug looks on their faces as they happily type away on old computers with their desks covered in papers, notebooks and dreaded shorthand.

With these looks of glee, you would think that they were writing about re-uniting families or a dog that saved a child. But when I strike up a conversation with one of these perky youngsters and ask him what he’s writing, he brightly answers, “Oh it was a child abuse case.” He carries on with his work, happy as a pig in his sty.

It’s not crass to say this, as obviously these things are never easy to write about. On my first week at a local news agency I went and sat in on an inquiry where a three year-old boy drowned in the family pond. Having to sit there and take notes as the neighbor talked about finding the toddler face down, obstructed by weeds in the water, while wearing a Thomas the Tank Engine top. It does make your blood run cold. But after reporting that, hopefully people might think twice about ponds and kids.

Though back to the newsroom of an unnamed local paper and my current situation. I start thinking about my course, a postgraduate NCTJ diploma in journalism. I have been on the course for 8 weeks and I do seem to have done a great number of exciting and at times quite intimidating things, but I will write more about those later, in particular a trip to a certain nuclear weapons establishment.

I have lately questioned my potential career in journalism and as I sit here thinking about how competitive the industry is, I begin to wonder why I’m here? Not in a deep philosophical sense, my days of caring about Descartes and Kafka are over, simply because I have run out of time to allow myself to indulge in such whimsical fantasies.

Often I am asked why I so desperately want to be a journalist, especially as all of our guest speakers have said its shit profession, though this for some reason hasn’t deterred me.

I have an unhealthy obsession with Samira Ahmed and I get a shiver of delight when reading Jon Snow’s blog.

Then there’s me, my main goal at the moment is to wrangle my way into as many well known broadcasting houses and newspapers as possible. Thus far I have managed to worm my way into quite a few well known news establishments and made them give me work experience. This has its ups and downs, being at the BBC made me never want to leave.

My life at the moment is along these lines: Monday to Friday, roughly 9 to 5, I am on my journalism course.

In reality this involves studying the law of reporting; I’m becoming increasingly excited about the prospect of challenging a judge for trying to impose a section 39. As well as public affairs, learning about the council, this is as depressing as it sounds. Then there’s video journalism and SHORTHAND.

Trying to learn shorthand for me is like trying to run a marathon, something else I’ve failed at. It’s arduous, difficult and at times sweaty.

As well as this I work at a gym one evening and then one day at the weekend. I have also lately started work with a charity in Portsmouth. Though I think this will be divulged upon in a later blog.

As this is only an introduction, there will be more to come. So I will blog frequently as to whether I can cope with all of this or whether I have a nervous breakdown, then a descent into madness seems like quite a good concept for a blog.