I just learned that my Worm’s eye column has been shot with immediate effect. It’s a great shame. That was one of the two or three most enjoyable jobs I’ve had in journalism — another was the long Saturday Review profiles which went when the Guardian did its redesign last autumn.
Losing the money hurts, though I am still on a contract that keeps me solvent, and leaves time to make it up on other projects. But what really stings is the knowledge that I’m good at the writing part of the job. I’m thoughtful, quick, and well-informed about quite a lot of things. In many ways I am a better writer than when I was young and brilliant. But I am not good at marketing myself and not good at getting the stimulation I need to be interesting. All my best work has been done when I believed there was an editor taking an interest in what I was doing. Also, I am fifty one. Perhaps I should just cash in my savings, fly to Arizona, and eat myself to death. Another, possibly better, plan would be to get on with the Swedish book.
I know the feeling. I packed it in myself some time ago. Became a market trader instead.
OK, someone has to ask this . . . . WHY Arizona? WHERE in Arizona?
You didn’t follow the link, Vicar, did you? I have just got back from an afternoon’s conferencing on northern Kenya, which makes it even more obscene. But the answer to “Where in Arizona?” is “Tempe”. The answer to “Why Arizona” is probably “Goldwater”
I was sorry when you told me about that – losing a gig you love always hurts more.
Wisdom, thoughtfulness, experience and literacy aren’t necessarily the highest value commodities in our wonderful participatory brave new world of wide web writing – and, as the recent shenanigans at the Torygraph reminds us, other people’s wanton madness counts for more than being good at the job. It’s no business for the thin-skinned.
Sweden!
R