“I never thought of myself as a writer,” says Jamie Foster Brown. “It was something other people encouraged me to do because of my interview style and the way I described the behind-the-scenes of the music industry.” That knack for getting inside the heads of celebrities has made her the Larry King of urban media. “Sister 2 Sister is not a place where we drag people’s names through the mud,” she says. “We just tell the truth. And encourage our subjects to do the same.”

This approach has led to a magazine with a 22-year history. Sister 2 Sister now boasts 200,000 in circulation — not People or Us Weekly numbers — but Brown does it with a full-time staff of just five. Keeping overhead small has helped her outlive and keep pace with many of her competitors at a time when the death knell is sounding for print titles. (And she plans to keep on winning, even as mainstream publishing houses, like Harris Publications, aim for her coveted female demo.) Brown details the rise of her magazine from a newsletter to a glossy, why she’s okay with being labeled “friendly press,” and the one place online will never beat print.

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Name: Jamie Foster Brown
Position: Publisher of Sister 2 Sister
Resume: Worked for Black Entertainment Television (BET) as an advertising secretary to the network’s founder, Robert Johnson. Eventually produced the station’s flagship shows: Video Soul and Video LP. In 1988, founded Sister 2 Sister, a monthly trade newsletter that has since expanded into a celebrity-based glossy. In 1998 she wrote Betty Shabazz: A Sisterfriends’ Tribute in Words and Pictures, published by Simon and Schuster.
Education: B.A. University of Stockholm
Birthdate: June 25
Hometown: Chicago
Marital status: Married 41 years, two sons.
First section of the Sunday Times: “I don’t really read papers.”
Favorite TV show: “I watch a lot of USA. Psych. Monk.“
Guilty pleasure: “I drink two or three cups of coffee a day. But they’re all decaf.”
Last book read: Hammer by Armand Hammer
Twitter handle: “I’m not on Twitter. The Internet world… I haven’t given it a lot of thought. I’m already overwhelmed with emails, phone calls, text messages…”

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Why did you start Sister 2 Sister 22 years ago?
It started out as my thoughts on the music industry. I had worked as Bob Johnson’s secretary in the very early days of BET. I’d moved up to programming shows like Donnie Simpson’s Video Soul. I was in close proximity to a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff. And even though I didn’t think of myself as a writer, I knew I had stories to tell.

Stories like what?
I was at the Soul Train Awards in 1987. Whitney Houston performed and got booed. The audience thought she was acting “too white.” And I looked out in the audience and saw many people wearing blue and green contact lenses. Those kinds of stories. I wanted to write about what I saw — things other people didn’t necessarily see. In Europe, you have royalty. We have celebrities. Who decides who becomes a celebrity? They are not born. They are made. So I was always interested in what goes on behind the scenes.

How did the early days at BET prepare you for running Sister 2 Sister?
I made sure the artists were at the studio two hours before the show started. And then I would find myself babysitting the artists and the executives during that time. I would end up interviewing them just for my own knowledge. And then it turned into me feeding the host questions based on what I’d learned: ‘Ask him what happened to him in third grade.’

“I care about the people I cover… Some call it ‘friendly press.’ And that may be. But I know when certain urban artists have something to say, they’re coming to me to say it.”

Eventually, you even started breaking artists. How did that happen?
We were in competition with MTV. MTV had videos. Our artists didn’t always have a video. So I might take someone like Full Force, bring them into the studio, tell them to lip sync to one of their songs and boom, we’ve got a video to play.

Once you entered publishing, were you able to use the same techniques, in terms of fostering a close relationship with the artists you covered?
Absolutely. I interact with the majority of the people I cover outside of work. I check in on their lives. What’s going on with mom’s health? How are the children? I care about the people I cover. And that comes out in my writing. Some call it “friendly press.” And that may be. But I know when certain urban artists have something to say, they’re coming to me to say it.

Your interviews in Sister 2 Sister are notoriously lengthy. How do you get an artist to talk to you for hours?
When someone says, ‘I only have 20 minutes,’ I don’t do the interview. And I don’t ask questions like, ‘Who’s your major musical influence?’ I have a responsibility to my readers. They let you into their homes every day. They spend hard-earned money on your music and tours. These artists have to teach. They have to give information. Some of the celebrities I cover have more influence than people who save lives every day. You owe them an in-depth interview!

You don’t have a high opinion of celebrity blogging. What are your issues with it?
Most of the links sent my way, I don’t like it. It feels like we’re eating our young. We take these brand-new celebrities and just chew them up to pieces about what they’re wearing, how they look, how big or small they are. That’s a cancer. You have people judging other people just for the sport. These words are unwholesome. A little ember can cause a lot of damage. You have children who kill themselves over cyber bullying. Why bully people on a blog?

“We started all this with a Visa card. We could never get investors. I didn’t even know I could write!”

How have you stayed afloat financially when so many magazines have gone under?
We’re very frugal people. We have a staff of eight [to] nine people. So we don’t have a huge overhead. We started all this with a Visa card. We could never get investors. I didn’t even know I could write! This had to be divine intervention. And then, there’s my husband, an earth angel. He’ll whip up homemade sausage for breakfast with celebrities who come by my home to be interviewed. My husband’s special. He quit his job 20 years ago and said, ‘I’m gonna go work for my wife.’ They don’t make them like that anymore.

What is the future of print journalism? Are you prepared to take the magazine online to be read on something like the iPad or the Kindle?
It’s online now. But the people I put in my magazine? They are not satisfied with being online. I will sometimes say, ‘I’ll put this online,’ and the answer is always, ‘No. Put it in the magazine.’ For the celebrities I cover, there is nothing like seeing yourself at a newsstand and buying copies for grandma and mom. A magazine can be on the table. And besides, you don’t get in-depth information online. You just get snippets.

So you’re really pro-print.
Are you sitting on the toilet reading your laptop?

You get your subjects to say things they don’t tell the mainstream media. Many times, you and I have interviewed the same subject and your story will contain much more than I could get. What do you attribute this to?
My celebrities know, I’m not talking to you because I want to hurt you. I want your side of the story. And I will mix it in with my opinion.

But does it bother you that people may be more open with you because the print run for Sister 2 Sister is not as large as Vibe or Ebony or Essence? Perhaps they feel like they can be more open because less people may read it?
Doesn’t bother me at all. I provide a niche service for a special audience. And they are devoted, loyal fans.

I’m 36 and I find it harder and harder to keep up with who’s who in entertainment. Do you have a tough time keeping up with young hip-hop acts that you cover in the magazine?
I try. But I don’t stay on top of it as much as I could. It’s overwhelming. That’s what my staff does for me. I can’t keep track of what’s on BET or MTV. There’s so many artists out there. You know, it’s funny, my girlfriend asked me to set her up with a man, 50 years old or older. I said, how am I supposed to do that? I don’t know anyone my own age! I’m surrounded by people under-30 all day. The celebrities I cover? They come to interviews with a van full of people. None of them over 30. And I hug and kiss them all.

And your husband doesn’t mind?
I told you, the man’s an angel!

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Aliya S. King is an author of two works of nonfiction and an upcoming novel. She also blogs at www.aliyasking.com and Tweets even more @aliyasking.

Alan Richman’s food writing career was an accident. In 1975, the then-sportswriter began moonlighting as a restaurant critic and eventually got a gig at GQ which led to his meteoric rise as the most decorated food writer in history. The “Meryl Streep” of the James Beard Foundation Journalism Awards, the GQ contributor boasts 14 wins and 29 nominations, including three this year. He’s spent the last three decades traveling the globe to bring insightful, often funny and sometimes cranky, food stories to the table. Fearless in the face of Neapolitan pizza lovers yet comically threatened by a 12-year-old boy, Richman firmly believes all good food writing starts with good journalism — the first lesson he teaches his students at the French Culinary Institute of New York.

Ahead of the 2010 James Beard Foundation Journalism Awards, Richman talks to mediabistro.com about crafting his award-winning stories, honing his voice as a food writer, and the “disastrous” rise of citizen criticism.

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Name: Alan Richman
Position: Freelance food and wine writer; Dean of Food Journalism at The French Culinary Institute in New York City
Resume: Started as a news editor at The Portland (Indiana) Commercial Review in 1967 before moving to The Philadelphia Bulletin, where he was an NBA beat writer from 1969-1974. Joined The Montreal Star as sports columnist from 1974-1977, was a sportswriter, columnist, and assistant managing editor at The Boston Globe from 1977-1979 and from 1980-1985; he worked as a Metro reporter for The New York Times in between. Was a writer-at-large for People. Has been GQ‘s food and wine critic since 1989.
Birthday: January 25, 1944
Hometown: Philadelphia, Pa.
Education: BA, University of Pennsylvania
Marital status: Divorced
First section of the Sunday Times: “Who can afford the New York Times anymore?”
Favorite TV show: “None whatsoever, but my last one was Buffy The Vampire Slayer (before she went to college).”
Guilty pleasure: “SyFy channel, for films such as Spring Break Shark Attack, or at least the first 15 minutes of them.”
Last book read: Ian Rankin detective novel, The Naming of the Dead
Twitter handle: “What?”

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You began your journalism career as a sports writer, so what made you realize you wanted to write about food?
I once had a sports editor who said I was the best sports writer he ever saw that didn’t know anything about sports. And I don’t think he was exactly correct. I know a lot about sports, but I wasn’t immersed in just loving every detail, in the minutiae of sports the way really successful sports writers do. For a long time, for fun I did food stories. I was the sports columnist for the Montreal Star in 1975 and 1976, and at the same time under a pseudonym I was the restaurant critic for the Montreal Star. Whatever anybody asked me to do with food, I always just wrote about it, and eventually I got a break, which didn’t come until around ’90 or ’91. That’s how I became a food writer. It was by accident.

How did you hone your voice as a food writer?
I’ll give you a quick story. I’d written a really good story for [GQ editor Art Cooper]. We were having a meeting and he said to me, “You know that was my idea.” And I said to him, “No Art, that wasn’t your idea, that was my idea, but I was your idea.” Basically I had an editor who believed in me, who not only believed in me, knew what I could do and knew what he could get out of me, and also very fortuitously, what he wanted from his writers was what I could do best, but neither of us knew that when I took the job. Art Cooper was the editor who wanted voice and he wanted individuality and he wanted writers to really say what they felt like saying. He wanted me to be the voice of food, he didn’t want me to interview other people and let them be the voice of food. In fact, every time I’d say something like, “Wolfgang Puck is coming to town, should I interview and ask him what he thinks about the new trends?” Art Cooper would say, “No, I want you to tell me what you think of the new trends.” Voice was everything with Art.

“I’m not a foodie, but if there was such a thing as a restaurantie, I would be that.”

Being funny in print is not very easy. What’s your advice for infusing writing with humor?
If you’re not funny you can’t make it funny. […] If you look at my stories, they’re not that funny. I mean I go along writing and I just write pretty simple stuff, pretty clear plain sentences and all of a sudden I just zing one in there. You have to know when to do it and you have to know how much of it you can do and, you know, when to stop.

One of the things I tell people is write your first draft of the story as though you’re writing a letter to a friend, with all kinds of casualness and all kinds of wise guy remarks. Then you have to be able to look back at it in the rewriting and say, ‘Do any of these work, are any of these successful, are these jokes funny?’ And then you have to learn where to put them in the joke. I mean, every joke I write in my first draft doesn’t go into my story, thank God.

You’ve traveled the globe; I know you’ve been a million places with a fork in one hand and a pen in the other. Which of those is your most memorable experience?
I still love restaurants more than anything. I think I love restaurants more than I love food. Because restaurants have everything in them: They have the people, they have the food, they have the wine, they have the experience, they have the possibility of enjoying yourself with the person across the table from you. I’m not a foodie, but if there was such a thing as a restaurantie, I would be that.

Every great restaurant experience to me is my favorite thing I’ve ever done, if that makes any sense. And it never stops. If it happens today, I’m just as happy as I was 30 or 40 years ago.

“The one way in which my restaurant reviews differ from others is I try to do storytelling more than most people.”

How do you begin crafting a story around a dining experience?
I have two things in mind when I do a review. Number one, I want to say something really interesting about the restaurant. I want to make the experience I had there, at least I’m trying to do this, something that the reader can enjoy reading, because restaurant reviewing is really about taking the person into the restaurant with you and having them either enjoy or hate the experience as you have enjoyed or hated the experience.

The second thing I try to do is somewhere in that story give some sort of indication in my opinion what this restaurant is all about. Give some sort of feeling that this is the essence of this restaurant, this is what this restaurant is trying to do and whether they’re doing it successfully or not. I think the one way in which my restaurant reviews differ from others is I try to do storytelling more than most people.

One of your nominated stories is the profile of David Fishman who’s the 12-year-old NYC restaurant critic. He had such a blitz of media attention, and he was on the Today show. What about your approach to the story with David made it unique?
We were alerted to that by a little item in the Times. And in fact it wasn’t my idea, it was Jim Nelson, who’s now the editor-in-chief of GQ. I of course immediately jumped on it; I thought it was a brilliant idea because it was fun. I enjoyed every moment of it. I mean, I didn’t know exactly what he was going to be like. Who knows what a 12-year-old kid’s going to be like? But if you read the lead of the story, I met him, we had a meal together and he said something so brilliant about one of the dishes we were eating, and it just hit me right away what this story was going to be. It was going to be me against him, mano-a-mano, and that’s what it was, seeing who’s the better critic, me or him? Let me tell you something about this kid, I don’t know if he’s a great critic, but he’s probably the greatest natural journalist I’ve ever run across. I never saw a kid who knew everything to do right about journalism in my life. I mean he was right, he was dead on.

Now you’re the dean of food journalism at the French Culinary Institute.
I love teaching. I mean I’m always amazed there are still people who have enough faith in journalism that they think they can make a living at it that will come to this class. It gives me hope.

What kind of advice are you going to give them when they ask about finding a job in food writing?
I just can’t give them advice on something like that. I basically say to them, get experience, take any job you can get, write, just make sure you write, make sure you work hard and hope that you have a spouse who’s making a lot of money to keep you going until you get your break, because there is no secrets of how to get work. No, there’s plenty of work. There’s no secrets on how to get paying work in journalism any more. It’s really not easy. Everybody can write, there’s more writing opportunities than there ever has been. There’s just not a lot of paying writing opportunities.

Social media is very popular now and it seems like everybody can be a “critic.” Do you think that citizen criticism has the potential to make full-time critics obsolete?
I think it’s of course disastrous. It’s like asking your neighbor whether or not you need penicillin for a cold.

You’ve been called the Indiana Jones of food writing.
The greatest compliment of my life.

Well Indiana had his fedora — what’s your signature?

My signature is I carry a purse, of course. You know I was the original metrosexual. I was carrying a handbag in the early ’70s because I could put notebooks in it. The reason you always carry the bag when you became a restaurant critic was to steal menus. But I’ve only been caught twice stealing a menu in my life, so that’s pretty good, isn’t it?

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Blake Gernstetter is mediabistro.com’s associate editor.

As a freelancer and investigative journalist, Alexander Zaitchik has held editorial roles at the Prague Pill, New York Press, and Russia’s infamous rabble-rousing rag, The eXile. He’s covered everything from mass murder sprees and radioactive contamination in central Russia, to the plight of small farming communities fighting Shell Oil in northwestern Ireland.

Yet, during talks with Wiley & Sons for possible book ideas, Zaitchik settled on one that was strangely foreign to him: an in-depth investigation on the rise of Fox News and conservative talk radio megastar Glenn Beck. Because Beck was just on his way to becoming a media sensation, Zatichik first gauged reader interest with an article for AlterNet.org, asking, “Is Glenn Beck the Orson Welles of Our Time?” Zaitchik recalled, “I wasn’t expecting much response, but the piece went gangbusters; it was the most popular article on the site for the week, had the most forwards, etc. I sent Wiley the numbers, and my editor, Eric Nelson, said, ‘Let’s do this.'” A three-part series for Salon followed, and now the forthcoming tome Common Nonsense: Glenn Beck and the Triumph of Ignorance (Wiley, May 2010) promises to be the first serious examination of the burgeoning media titan and his roots.

Zaitchik spoke with mediabistro.com about convincing Beck’s colleagues and friends to open up on the record, which controversial subject he’s tackling next, and how someone who has primarily covered foreign subjects suddenly found himself neck-deep in a project that — for good or ill — is entirely American.

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You sold this book in March 2009, just a couple of months after Beck’s launch on Fox News. How did you get the idea to write a book about him so early?

I was having lunch with an editor at Wiley & Sons, discussing another proposal that couldn’t have been more different, something about India. At some point, we started talking about American politics. This was around the time of Beck’s famous “We Surround Them” special on Fox, the one where he opened by crying and mumbling about how much he loved his country, and feared for it, et cetera. It was already a YouTube classic, and we laughed about how weird it all was. But that was it. I went home that day thinking I was headed back to India. That night I started looking into Beck and saw that there was this subculture developing — Beck viewing parties, Beck meet-ups, stuff like that, all across the country. And this was a full month before Rick Santelli got the Tea Party thing going. It was obvious that something was bubbling underneath Beck’s demo that was unique, more Palin than Hannity.

“If I held myself to Beck’s standards, I’d never work in journalism again.”

How did you get Beck’s former colleagues to open up, and how did you ensure that they wouldn’t have their own personal agendas?

People are going to have agendas even if your subject is, “Kittens: Just How Cute Are They?” You just have to trust your instincts and sometimes investigate your sources as well as your subject. If someone has an obvious axe to grind and a reputation as unreliable, you employ extreme caution. There are some stories I encountered about Beck’s past that would have made great copy, but I decided not to use [them]. Lucky for Beck, I take facts seriously. Beck had months, not to mention an entire research team, to get the basics of Van Jones’ biography correct, and failed miserably, if not intentionally. If I held myself to Beck’s standards, I’d never work in journalism again.

Who was the first to agree to go on the record?
The first thing I did was fly to Tampa. That’s where Beck launched his talk radio career in 1999. Pretty much everyone down there talked. The only interview I wanted but never got was with one of Beck’s old producers, because they’re still close friends. I cornered him in the Clear Channel parking lot and we chatted, but he never sat down with me. I know from his colleagues that he agrees with the basic thesis of the book — that Beck is a business-minded egomaniac, and everything flows from that — but he wouldn’t go on record with it. Most everyone else did. The trail only really started running dry once I got back to New York, where everyone knows everyone, and the only thing media pros fear more than hurting their career prospects is their own shadows.

“There are very few anonymous sources in the book. Considering what people get away with these days, the number is negligible. I imagine I sleep better than the guys who wrote Game Change.”

Who required the most convincing?

There was one guy who worked with Beck in Baltimore in the early 1990s. He was a former music programmer who knew Beck very, very well. He’s the only important anonymous source in the book, and was a tough nut to crack. Before I contacted him, the last time he said or wrote something about Beck, he was hit within a week by a nasty case of identity theft. He had no proof that Beck was behind it, but it spooked him. There were also some people that didn’t return my calls or emails until I published a series in Salon that made the rounds and won plaudits in the radio world. All of a sudden these people started writing back, sometimes after months. They were like, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were for real. Let’s talk.”

Do you have a methodology for getting sources to open up?

One of the nicest things about doing a book is being able to take your time getting to know sources. Before doing this, I don’t think I’d ever spent more than six weeks on a story. When you’re writing an article on short deadline, new sources are mostly just cagey strangers. You get what you can out of an interview or two. But when you have months to get to know people and develop trust, to fly out to their cities and establish a dialogue, you can sort of peel the onion one layer at a time, at whatever speed they’re comfortable with. This was my first experience with that, and I really enjoyed it.

How much of the detail in the book, especially some of the more salacious ones about Beck’s darker years, was based on recollections from past associates that went on the record, and how much was based on anonymous sources?

There are very few anonymous sources in the book. Considering what people get away with these days, the number is negligible. I imagine I sleep better than the guys who wrote Game Change. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it shocks me how slimy journalism is getting. Last week, John Avlon of The Daily Beast ripped off some of my research [on Beck and white nationalists] and tried to pass it off as his own. Shameless, brazen bullshit I haven’t done since my teenage ‘zine days. But this guy has a staff gig and benefits.

“It was tempting to try and chronicle every little controversy — and with Beck they never stop coming — at the expense of the big picture.”

Any advice for others contemplating investigating high-profile subjects, especially one as incendiary as Beck? Where should someone start?
On the biography side of things, start at an accessible point in the story. In Beck’s case, this meant getting on the first plane out of New York. On the analysis side of things, I think it’s important not to fixate on little events that may occur during the writing. Sometimes it was tempting to try and chronicle every little controversy — and with Beck they never stop coming — at the expense of the big picture and a few representative test cases that hold real explanatory power.

What do you say to those people who will say that you set out to write a “hate book,” and never had an open mind when dealing with Beck?

I was never interested in writing a slash-and-burn liberal screed, and didn’t set out to write one. My pitch, and my sustaining interest, was not, “Why I Hate Glenn Beck.” It was, “Who is Glenn Beck?” I think I answered that question. People can decide for themselves what they think of him. Nobody cares what I think of anybody.

Now that the book is done, “Who is Glenn Beck?”

I needed about 90,000 words to fully answer that question. Beck is both more complex and more loathsome than I ever expected. For the full portrait, buy the book, but I can say that I stand in slack-jawed awe of his inability to feel shame. There is just no way to overstate the guy’s regret-proof audacity. “Oceanic” is the only word that comes close.

Before this, you spent a lot of time bouncing around the world, writing about foreign subjects, yet it’s hard to imagine a topic more American than Glenn Beck.

No doubt. Listening to talk radio, watching Fox News, and going to the Tea Parties around the country — it threw me into the American marrow in way I hadn’t really experienced as an adult. Other than a few years working at New York Press [2003-2005] I’ve basically lived abroad since college. Until I started this project, I had seen maybe a few hours of Fox News, and had zilch exposure to talk radio. It was a hell of an education.

What’s next?
I’m working on another book for Wiley that’s sort of a logical extension of the Beck book. It looks at the development of conservative conspiracy culture over the last 20 years or so, and tries to untangle its roots in the American psyche. The working title is Bonkers: From Clinton’s Body Count to Obama’s Birth Certificate. I’m co-writing it with Jan Frel, my longtime editor at AlterNet.

So no India book?
It’s still on the boards. After another year of this sort of thing, I’m going to need to get out of the country for a while. There’s nothing like a stretch in India to refresh and get back to basics.

Zaitchik’s tips for covering high-profile subjects

1. Write fast. “Controversial subjects like Beck are volatile moving targets. You can’t really spend two or three years on a subject like this and release it as a current affairs title.”
2. Anticipate the curve. “Try and figure out who is early on the rise, and get there before the herd.”
3. Don’t have an agenda. “If sources sense that you are just out to get someone, or find grist for a hatchet-job, they won’t talk to you. Keep a genuinely open mind and people will pick up on it.”

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Daniel McCarthy is a freelance writer based in Boston, Mass., and the editor of the Boston edition of UrbanDaddy.com.

It’s been over 20 years since Kelly Cutrone moved to Manhattan from her small hometown in upstate New York. Since then, she’s been married twice, worked as an Atlantic Records recording artist, launched and then left her own boutique PR firm, only to return to the publicity world with her current firm, People’s Revolution.

Now, Kelly is enjoying perhaps the biggest spotlight on her career, as part of MTV’s hit reality show, The Hills. Whitney Port, one of the show’s stars, currently serves as a People’s Revolution intern. Yes, she actually does work. Kelly spoke to mediabistro.com about how that arrangement came about, why the Internet has changed the fashion industry, and how TV and media are, “sexualizing kids so quick.”

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Name: Kelly Cutrone
Position: Owner, People’s Revolution
Resume: Worked for PR maven Susan Blond; head of PR at Spin; started her own company
Birth date: November 13, 1965
Hometown: Camillus, N.Y.
Education: Syracuse University
Marital Status: Not married. Have been twice.
First section of the Sunday Times: Style
Favorite TV show: I don’t watch TV.
Guilty pleasure: Target
Last book you read: I’m reading a book right now called Conversations with God by Neil Donald Walsh.

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Where did you work before founding People’s Revolution?

My career started completely by accident. I moved to New York at the age of 21, I was just kind of, you know, a young girl who wanted to live in New York. I met Anthony Hayden Guest, the writer, who was the art critic at Vanity Fair at the time. One day he said to me, “Darling, you have to get a job!” And I said, “Well, I think I’ll be an MTV VJ or something.” This was like 1987. And he said, “You’re much too smart for that, you should be a publicist.” And I said, “Well, what is that?” And he said, “Oh, you know, you just talk all day and put people together.”

So I went and I had an interview with Susan Blond. My career started with Susan and I worked there for six to eight months, and then I left there and became the director of PR for Spin. From there I left and decided I would start my own company and contacted a former intern of mine who I had hired, a guy by the name of Jason Weinberg, who now owns Untitled, which is now probably the largest and most definitive management company in the country. He manages Hillary Swank, Naomi Watts, and Madonna.

So, we started this company called Cutrone and Weinberg, which was one of the first really young, boutique PR companies, and I did that up until the end of 1991 or 1992 and I just said, “I really cannot and do not want to do this anymore.” It was the worst job.

I took some time off, and it’s a big long story but I was actually signed to Atlantic Records. I got a record deal, and was living out in L.A., and I just really didn’t like doing it. And, I left. I said, “Fashion is the new rock and roll,” and started People’s Revolution in 1996 or 1997; I’m not sure what year.

What do you think are some of the biggest changes in the fashion industry over the last several years?

With the Internet… I think it’s like the Wild West now, and all of the templates of entertainment no longer are serving anyone. They’re all breaking down, whether it’s record labels or the old-school fashion systems.

Back in the day, the formula used to be, make really beautiful clothes, create an inspiring image, keep it very pure, don’t ever let anyone who’s not in the fashion world in to see it, stay super exclusive and then you’ll have this master license five to 10 years down the road, that will be worth a lot for licensing. Or, some great head-hunter from Paris will come and find you on your island and bring you to Europe and have you head up a fashion house, and they’ll also support your own independent line. What we’ve seen over the last five to seven years is that the French and Italian companies have done that, they’ve brought in different people, and then they bring these people in for three seasons and they go, “Oh well, you’re really great and all these people write about you, but you don’t know how to manage a team of 60-100 people, nor can you carry a $100 million company.”

So, you know, thanks a lot, we’ve used you for your press and public persona and now we’re going to throw you away. In my opinion, everything is upside down. You have people like Karl Lagerfeld doing deals with H&M, these people working with GAP, Go International with Target, Anna Wintour put Teen Vogue on The Hills. You have these incredible infusions and injections of what some people looking at it might call confusion. What I see is powerful pioneers seeking new distribution outlets and changing the laws and rules of how things work.

What about fashion PR? How has the new media landscape changed how you do business?

Well, I mean obviously, we’re on The Hills. I think the important thing is that PR is not something that can be controlled, especially not now. Before you used to have like five press agents, so we talk to 20 people, and with the Internet and the increased attention on fashion and the fact that with fashion shows, lets say there’s 400 or 500 people at a fashion show, maybe 25 to 125 of those people are valid and going to make a difference in the designer’s work, and God only knows the other 300, who might be younger market editors, who might have a blog under another name, who take all of this as a fashion expert and they start blogging. So, this ability of controlling the image is completely changed.

So, what you have to do, I mean for me — and the way we’re working — is we want our clients to command and control as many visual moments per season as they can. Whether those visual moments are their own retail stores, look books or fashion shows, you know, things they can control. Once you ship the clothes, they are the product of the stores and the store can put them in the window alongside whomever they want.

Once a celebrity wears a design, if they decide to go out and get drunk and drive home in your dress, it’s not necessarily a great thing. So, we’re into creating these visual moments and trying to help our clients create as many appendages as possible onto the body of their brands that can walk onto the pages of a particular magazine and make the proper statements for them.

What are some of the ways in which fashion PR differs from other industries?

I think when you’re a specialist in PR it’s like asking the question, “What’s the difference between an orthopedic surgeon and a radiologist?” I mean, there’s a lot of difference, you know. But, I think that branding is branding. The great thing about fashion is that it changes every six months, and you never get stuck for two years, or even eight months, like a movie campaign.

And of course, the clothes don’t talk back. The clothes aren’t going to call you and make you call their lawyer. They’re not going to wake you up in the middle of the night because they were busted leaving a club with a drag queen. The clothes are the clothes, and usually the designers are manageable.

So much is made of getting a celebrity to appear on camera with your client’s products. Is the celebrity endorsement overrated?

It depends on the celebrity… well no, it’s not overrated if it’s Uma Thurman who just won an Oscar in your dress and you didn’t have to pay her to wear it. That’s what I would call a good thing; it’s a great placement.

Do I think any brand should depend solely on celebrity? No, because it’s just going to look like an L.A. “celebu-tart” brand and it’s not going to have the legitimacy and the read with the fashion guard, the true fashion guard coming from New York and Europe. So, I mean, like most things, you want your pie to be evenly distributed, which is, you want to have great design, a cool, interesting or charismatic designer, and if they’re not that on their own, hopefully they’ll have some type of connection, whether it’s a rock star dad or a movie mogul boyfriend, or something that’s going to make it easier to push them because the magazines want to feature people that are going to appeal to their readers. If you’re a 65-year-old, 300-pound woman, they’re probably not going to want to feature you in their magazine.

Also, you want to have good production, you want to have the ability to finance the brand through the terms that it’s going to go and deliver them to retailers, and good press and good marketing. Those are all of the components that go into making a successful brand.

New York reported that Whitney Port “becomes bicoastal” while working for People’s Revolution, for a new spinoff show. What do you think about Whitney having to carry a show?

Well, I don’t know that she is carrying a show. We have no contracts or anything on that, so I cannot confirm that that is true. I can tell you that Whitney is bicoastal because we have a bicoastal agency and this is not her first time at the rodeo, coming to New York. Part of last season, she was in New York for a show we did, she was working here during Fashion Week and yes, she does come back and forth. If there is a pilot or a spinoff, we don’t have contracts on that yet, so we can’t confirm that.

How would you explain the popularity of The Hills?

I have a bizarre experience with The Hills. I’m a mom and I have a six-year-old, and when my daughter was a year and a half, my mom was trying to give her Disney princess stuff and I was really opposed to it, because I thought the messaging was very negative in the setup for little girls. It’s always some poor village girl, and something happens to her, and then poof, this guy shows up and they move to the castle and everything is great.

I just really didn’t want my daughter to get into that. I mean so much to the point that I was looking at a Waldorf or city and country type gender-free school because I just thought that it was negative imaging. By the time my daughter was two, she knew every Disney princess, every name, even though we didn’t have it in our house and I just totally succumbed to the fact that Disney had gotten my kid and there was nothing I could do, so I mind as well join them and celebrate that aspect of imagination and femininity with her.

And now she’s six and she’s really into Miley Cyrus, who I think originally the core concept was developed for a tween market, but what’s happening is TV and media are sexualizing kids so quick and everything’s moving so fast that a five-year-old is now into what a 12-year-old used to be into because of the way things like Disney edits and paces their show.

People like Zach and Cody, That’s So Raven, and then Miley, so it was like my daughter just turned six, she just finished kindergarten and she knows all about High School Musical, which is really a tween Grease, if you think about it.

Then what happens for these girls, their next installation is, guess what, The Hills. And they’re just old enough to start watching MTV, they’re hormonally in place, and they see these four young, beautiful girls who really in my mind are a continuation of a Disney princess, because they live in a world that most people will never live in. And, on top of that, you pick up the extra market of people who do live in that world who want to see themselves reflected back, like the fashion and entertainment people who kind of watch it like it’s something like they can’t really believe that they’re watching, but they are watching and they’re enthralled because they can’t believe they’re watching what they’re watching but they’re also narcissistic because they see their own world reflected back to them.

And then there’s a sub-group of people that are drawn in by their wives. And I know this because when I go out of town or something, people come up to me, like a 40-year-old guy who’s an engineer who is like, “Oh, are you on The Hills? I told my wife that was you, I knew that was you.” And I say, “Well why do you watch The Hills?” And he says, “I don’t know, I like to watch TV with my wife and she started having me watch it.”

Being from upstate New York and not being born in New York on Park Avenue, I think I have an interesting perspective because I come from one world and I live in another, and I think for most young people who watch that world, it would be amazing if you’re 21 and get invited to go the Crillion Ball in Paris. That’s my take on The Hills and that’s why I think it is so successful.

How did People’s Revolution being in the show come about?

[MTV] asked if they could come shoot our Jennifer Nicholson show at the end of season one, and I said OK. Then they asked if they could come and cover some of our shows in L.A., and I said sure. And I was the same as I was now. They told [the cast] that there would be this woman who would be like Kelly Cutrone.

Lauren was there, and finally, I said something to her. I said to Lauren, “You’re going to have to move a lot quicker if you want to work in the fashion business.” Then, they started using that in all the bumps to the show. And then they continued with the show, and I saw them one other time in L.A. I saw [Teen Vogue west coast editor] Lisa Love in L.A., and she said MTV wanted to talk about the possibility of working with me. There is a reason why Anna Wintour decided to put Teen Vogue into that show without seeing or knowing what it is. If it’s good enough for Anna Wintour, it’s good enough for me. I talked to Lisa about the pros and cons of doing it. We took the temperature of some of our clients.

The big thing to check would be, can we do this without losing business? So far, the great thing is, we haven’t lost any business from it. Clients that don’t want to be involved have been secluded and not involved. The ones that have, have benefited. About being on the show and in public, I don’t really care what people think about me. You know on the Web, that stuff like, “Kelly Cutrone’s a bitch, Devil Wears Prada,” none of that affects me at all.

What are you most looking forward to for this fall’s Fashion Week?

I never really look forward to it. I’m a production maniac. And I like all of our clients’ shows, we have some amazing things coming up. We’re opening some conceptual collective space, which is going to be a home away from home from designers. We have another project with DJ Spooky [in L.A.]. Here in New York I’ve got my whole lineup of eight to 10 shows.

What are the key things to remember to have a successful show at Fashion Week?

Eat well. Tell the truth. Surround yourself with the best professionals that your clients can buy, from stylists to hair and makeup to music to casting agents. Make sure you secure the right exclusive in the right place. A lot of publicists tell too many people the same story and the client gets nothing.

You claimed that you wouldn’t hire Lauren Conrad after working with her during the 2006 Los Angeles Fashion Week. Why not?

Well, I mean she didn’t move fast enough for me. There was a year and a half between that first meeting and when we next met. And there was a huge change in her. I’m an authentic person; I wouldn’t have someone in my office just because they’re on a show. Whitney had [Lauren] come over, and I was surprised by her. I’ve talked to her, and she’s done great. But she’s also worked a year at Teen Vogue.

I just got a letter from a former assistant who I fired, who asked for letter of recommendation. I asked him to come in and talk with me first. I couldn’t recommend him to a company without knowing more. When I saw him and there were a lot of changes, I was able to write that letter. Same with Lauren. The second time I had the opportunity to work with her, I chose to. We get a lot of kids here when they’re young; of course they’re going to go on to have successful careers.

Tell us your best “party-crashing” story?
My favorite one ever was someone called me and was asking for a ticket to an event. And they were trying to get me on the phone. They said, “I met you on the subway.” I said, “That’s impossible, because I don’t take the subway.” They could have said anything else.

You once said, “I’m really about communicating and about art. I couldn’t care less about Calvin Klein or Donna Karan.” What designers don’t necessarily have a “name” but are master communicators or artists?

I love Jeremy Scott, Bernard Willhelm, Alexandre Herchovitch, Martin Margiela, Yohji Yamamoto. I mean to me, a white shirt is a white shirt. They are incredibly conceptual and spend time and energy and not just into the season, but they’re into the cuts and fabrication. Pieces aren’t just made to show a woman’s body part or to draw a mate.

What accomplishment at People’s Revolution are you most proud of?
That I’ve never bounced a payroll.

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Joe Ciarallo is the editor of mediabistro.com’s PRNewser.

When Datwon Thomas first interned at Vibe in the mid-’90s, the term “hip-hop journalist” was more of a notion than an actual career goal. Yet, as the music (and a slew of magazines covering it) blew up commercially, the Brooklyn native found himself at the forefront of the culture he loved in various top-level editorial positions at Harris Publications. Then, as quickly as you can say AutoTune, everything changed. Rappers started battling over YouTube instead of tracks, and Thomas saw several of his beloved imprints struggle with dwindling audiences (XXL) or fold altogether (King and Scratch).

So rather than fight the impending Web tidal wave, Thomas chose to embrace it. He joined Russell Simmons’ online aggregator GlobalGrind.com in 2008 and hasn’t looked back. “You have to be willing to challenge yourself and not be afraid of what may or may not happen,” he says. “I was able to face my fear and move on to other opportunities because of my hunger from wanting to see an idea that I thought of come to life on a larger scale.”
Here, Thomas speaks about his new dual role, whether cult favorite King could have survived, and what happens when magazines act like rappers.

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Name: Datwon Thomas
Position: Editor-in-chief and chief operating officer of Global Grind, Inc.
Resume: Started as an intern with Vibe‘s online division in 1996. In 1997, began writing for XXL, eventually becoming the magazine’s associate music editor. After a tenure with Sean “Diddy” Combs’ Web site, he launched King, the industry’s first luxury lifestyle magazine geared toward African American men, with Harris Publications, Inc. in 2001. That success lead to the automobile-centric Rides in 2002, its spin-off Donk, Box and Bubble in 2004, and Hip-Hop Soul in 2005. He returned to XXL as editor-in-chief in 2008 before leaving for Global Grind, Inc. in March 2009.
Birthday: May 14
Hometown: Brooklyn, NY
Education: Attended Baruch College before leaving during his junior year to focus on writing full-time.
Marital status: Married with three daughters.
First section of the Sunday Times: Arts and Entertainment
Favorite TV show: Sanford and Son
Guilty pleasure: Nestle Crunch
Last book read: Honor Amongst Thieves by A.C. Clayton.
Twitter: @Daydog

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Was writing about hip-hop always something you wanted to do or did you originally set out on a more traditional news path?
I started as an intern at Vibe magazine in 1996. And this was for their Web site, so there was very little respect at that time. In fact, I started out at one of their e-zines. I don’t know if you can get any lower than that. But I did it for a year. My school, Baruch College, was right up the block, so I used to walk the 10 blocks every day and some mornings.

I always knew I wanted to do this because I am a hip-hop baby. I feed off of it. Some of the most inspirational moments in my life were sparked by hip-hop.

XXL and The Source had a long and open feud in the early 2000’s. Does covering hip-hop culture naturally lend itself to this type of competition?
It is a hip-hop culture thing because hip-hop is based on battles. Like, “I come from nothing, but even my nothing is hotter than your something.” Looking back on those days, it was fun to watch. But did it help the culture? I would have to say yes, because it pushed us to work harder and reach higher for our stories. If there is a “battle” it is because you deem the other person to be worthy competition. So yes, you’d say to yourself “I can’t wait until next month because I am going to smash them creatively.” Artistically, battling bred healthy competition.

“There are some people who take pleasure in watching their competitors’ demise, but you have to look at the big picture and how the closure of a Vibe or a King has a negative impact on the industry.”

You also deal with a lot of egos when covering celebrities and entertainment. Rappers especially get upset with coverage they think is negative. How has this impacted your work in the newsroom?
Hip-hop journalism has had to deal with big egos since it started. But I think it got a little more intense as the artists got bigger. Early on, you had Jay-Z, Eminem, Outkast, Dr. Dre — so many huge stars. They come with handlers and publicists who may expect you to bury stories for their clients. And there have been instances where rappers have approached journalists and assaulted them because of things that were written about them. So I think at a certain point, it has affected the business of reporting hip-hop. But I am sure this happens at other publications too, not just in hip-hop. In this business, there are lots of stories that get pulled because of certain relationships behind the scenes.

King had a real cult following and a strong brand. Do you think there’s anything that could’ve been done to save it from folding?
I wasn’t running King from day-to-day when it closed. At the time, I was editorial director after stepping down as editor-in-chief in 2006. It was always my vision that the magazine would have a life beyond me, as I wanted to graduate into other fields. I brought the magazine up to a point that helped me career-wise, but I always wanted it to be a vehicle for others to experience what I did.

King was a cultural bomb in itself. It’s been mentioned in countless videos and songs. It was the type of magazine that artists and models aspired to be in. It will always be my baby because that is the one I put together. I had the vision for it. I saw where it went and the niche market it would serve. It’s what people associate me with most.

Could it have been saved? I think there are some things that could have been done differently business-wise to extend the life of it.

“You have to curate your magazine and your print like it’s going to be consumed not for just that month but years down the line, like a coffee table book.”

You were once an intern at Vibe. What are your thoughts on its demise and now sudden resurgence?
I think it’s a very good thing. Now there are some people who take pleasure in watching their competitors’ demise, but you have to look at the big picture and how the closure of a Vibe or a King has a negative impact on the industry. These magazines employ a lot of writers, stylists, models, and editors. But when a magazine closes, it makes corporate America think that “your” market is dying or is not viable. You don’t want the industry to have the impression that your audience and target market matter have a voice. I’m happy that Vibe is back.

The economy hit music magazines especially hard over the past few years, but the genre has flourished online. What do you think the future is for music and entertainment journalism in print?
I think the future of music will be about big “events.” It’s not enough to just put Lil Wayne on the cover. Because if you are a fan of Lil Wayne, you can get all the information you need by jumping online. And you’d be more up-to-date than any magazine.

So you have to make events around a “Lil Wayne” that are unique to your brand and speak to what you are adding to the event. For example, you could do a review of every mixtape he’s ever done and have them reviewed by his fan and peers.

You have to curate your magazine and your print like it’s going to be consumed not for just that month but years down the line, like a coffee table book.

GlobalGrind.com is an aggregator of content, much of it user-generated. As editor-in-chief and COO, are you still able to have a creative influence?
As COO, I work with getting content deals so we can position the site as a stronghold on the business side. It also includes finding new revenue streams for the site. As the EIC, I oversee content for the site. The site itself is a monster because it’s aggregated. But I think what it does is makes you look at content and how you may package it differently. I have to decide what works as original content and what works as aggregated [content].

I still have a creative influence in that it’s my duty to find creative ways of packaging the content. Global Grind is known for its original celebrity bloggers like Alicia Keys and Russell Simmons and allowing celebrities to speak in their own voice. Speaking in first person, you learn things you may not glean from an interview. I have to package this accordingly to drive traffic to the site. Also, I know the importance of pictures and headlines, because the reader will go to the place with the better headline first. Also, it is about branding. Making sure the site is known to have the best voice, reputation and headlines.

For my day-to-day, I take my little girls to school, then I get on the train and I check my Blackberry. I do budgets, I look at the competition, and I look for new ideas. I may also be writing and preparing for a slew of meetings. There is so much to fit into an eight hour day that it always rolls over. I mention the family aspect because so much of my work spills over into my family life. I factor all of that into my life because it provides inspiration. My nine-year-old helps me out a lot, especially with some of the younger celebs in Hollywood. Someone sent me an email with the name of a Disney actor I didn’t recognize and my 9-year-old got on the Internet and went to the actor’s Web site for me.

What are your thoughts on the influx of hip-hop bloggers in particular? Do you think the Internet has hurt or helped the dissemination of news in the culture?
The thing about the Internet is that it is reckless. Whereas we had to do a large amount of leg work, nowadays, a blogger can just as easily grab someone else’s work and present it as their own. Back in the day, we had to invest a lot of time in digging up information. It was a different process. So sometimes I get upset that the process that I went through was long and tedious, but it gave me a different perspective on how to look up information. But then I just ask myself… is this just the “new” process?

Now it’s truly about whomever’s insight is the most accurate, the most colorful or the most intriguing. So now I am really matching my skills up against the world. And I think I am still coming to terms with that. Some of my colleagues have accepted that this is the new process. And of course I am in the game, but it is hard to accept that this is how people get information now. And for the youth market, this is the only way they are consuming information. We can talk about how it used to be all day, but the youth of today don’t care to experience it that way. But I truly feel the most innovative people are truly going to win in this race today. Because now it doesn’t matter how much money you have. If you have a really great insight and unique way of looking at things, your reporting will rise to the top.

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Terry Wynn II is a freelance writer and TV personality in New York. He blogs at TexasTigerOfNewYork.blogspot.com.

When it comes to history-making sports coverage, there’s pretty much nothing Lesley Visser hasn’t done. She was the first in-game female NFL commentator in the booth and on the sidelines, has covered everything from the Final Four to Triple Crown Horse Racing, and was voted the No. 1 Female Sportscaster of All Time. This Pro Football Hall of Famer lives and loves sports so much that she married it, or rather someone with a passion equal to hers.

You may have noticed the story of how she met her husband, fellow sportscaster Dick Stockton, at Fenway Park in an Oscar-winning film, in which Stockton gets a credit. “In Good Will Hunting, Robin Williams meets his girl at the sixth game of the ’75 World Series,” Visser recalls. “I met Dick that evening. He doesn’t remember meeting me, of course, [laughs] because of [his] calling Carlton Fisk’s home run. Can you imagine? That meeting your wife is not even the greatest thing that happened to you that day?”

As she gets ready to cover Super Bowl XLIV in Miami, Visser spoke to mediabistro.com about maintaining longevity in a male-dominated field and why her favorite story was more than just fun and games.
Name: Lesley Visser
Position: Hall of Fame Sportscaster and CBS Sports Reporter, The NFL Today
Resume: Became the first female NFL beat reporter when she joined The Boston Globe in 1974. While at ABC Sports for nearly seven years, she served as the first female sideline reporter on Monday Night Football. Now on her second stint as a reporter at CBS Sports, she became the first female color analyst in an NFL game earlier this season. Also reports for HBO’s Real Sports With Bryant Gumbel and worked the NCAA Final Four and Super Bowl for ESPN. Inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame and became the first female sportscaster recipient of the Gracie Allen Award by the American Women in Radio and Television in 2006.
Birthday: September 11, 1953
Hometown: Quincy, Mass.
Education: Bachelor’s degree in English and honorary doctorate of journalism from Boston College.
Marital status: Married to Basketball Hall of Fame and Fox/Turner sportscaster Dick Stockton
First section of the Sunday Times: “We go right to the sports.”
Favorite TV show: Sunday Night Football, Monday Night Football, and Inside the Actors Studio.
Guilty pleasure: “Breyer’s Butter Almond ice cream and thinking I can sing.”
Last book read: Game Six: Cincinnati, Boston, and the 1975 World Series: The Triumph of America’s Pastime, by Mark Frost.
Twitter handle: “I don’t Twitter. I don’t really care who’s going to the dry cleaners.”

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How has the field of sports reporting changed since you first started?
When I first started, The Boston Globe was very progressive and made me the first NFL female beat writer in the mid-’70s. And at that time, the credentials said, “No women or children in the press box.” It was really brave of The Boston Globe. They said she’s going to be the beat writer and everybody had to make accommodations, which they did. Then CBS made me the first woman to handle the post-game trophy, so I have to say, I’ve always sort of been at the front of history, but behind me there have been so many talented women, and it’s fantastic for women now. Women can grow up saying I want to cover a Super Bowl, I want to cover a Final Four, I want to be a sportscaster, and I want to have all the opportunities. I think sports and Wall Street were the last areas that men were going to give up.

“The Boston Globe was very progressive and made me the first NFL female beat writer in the mid-’70s. And at that time, the credentials said, ‘No women or children in the press box.'”

What advice would you give to women looking to succeed in sports TV?
I would say there are two kinds of women who do this: There are women who love sports and end up in TV, and there are women who want to be in TV and end up in sports. My advice is the same for men and women: Knowing the game and having a passion for sports are really nonnegotiable for a long career. If you want to have decades, then those two are nonnegotiable: knowledge and passion.

What are your thoughts on the Erin Andrews “peeping Tom” incident?
Erin is a friend and a colleague, and I’ve sort of promised her that the less we say about it, the less we’ll keep it alive. And she was really such an unprotected victim in this. That is my thought on it.

Besides knowing the sport and being able to communicate on-camera, what are some necessary but not-obvious skills aspiring sportscasters should have?
Vocabulary and sincere interest in the person he or she is speaking to. A healthy dose of humor. In 35 years, I’ve really called upon it many times. Just having an understanding that this is part of the fabric of who you are. You may not think a game is that big or small, but it’s important to those people. It’s important to retain the humanity and the perspective of what you’re looking at.

“Men aren’t born knowing a safety blitz; somewhere along the way they’ve learned it.”

Do you think women will find sustained success as play-by-play or color commentators in male-dominated sports such as football and baseball? History has, for the most part, relegated them to the sidelines, with the exception of announcers such as Suzyn Waldman and Mary Carillo.
Suzyn Waldman is really the fantastic example because baseball is hard-core in this country. Baseball, football, basketball…

Is it okay that I get just a little bit defensive? You know I was the first woman on Monday Night Football. It had been 28 years of Monday Night Football before a woman was on there, and they’ve had women ever since. It’s like they just put women on the sidelines, but that was an enormous achievement for women. It’s like it’s already been discounted. I just think, of course it will happen with play-by-play. And of course it will happen with [color analysis]. Now with color analysis, I became the first woman to do analysis in an NFL game earlier this year. I replaced Bob Griese on the Dolphins preseason, and I was really careful to stay within my experience. That’s one thing I would counsel both men and women who have not played the game. There are certain aspects that we cannot know. I’ve never been in a huddle. I don’t know what that is. But I know what questions to ask, and I’ve watched an awful lot of film. I rode the bus with John Madden for years, and even when I first started with the Patriots, I watched film. Men aren’t born knowing a safety blitz; somewhere along the way they’ve learned it. Either they’ve learned it as observers or they’ve learned it as players. You have to be careful to know what you are and what you aren’t. You have to have a sense of humor, too. That really goes a long way.

How do you prepare differently for sidelines reporting compared with in-booth commentary?
A lot of it is reacting to the moment, but it has different responsibilities. It was very important to know which players and what was being expected of them.
Preparation is different, though asking the questions and knowing the game are still at the heart of both jobs. And, by the way, the women that you see doing it right now at the highest level are fantastic. I haven’t done this myself in about five years, but Michelle Tafoya, Suzy Kolber, Andrea Kremer, Pam Oliver. These women — they have lasted for decades. They are the real deal.

From the Final Four to the U.S. Open, you’ve covered pretty much every major sporting event. What has been the most rewarding gig?
I have … multiple times. I would say the most rewarding was when CBS sent me to the fall of the Berlin Wall. It was to do a story. There were two producers we had: Ted Shaker and Ed Goren. Ed Goren runs Fox, and Ted Shaker’s retired. This was so forward-thinking: They wanted to do a story on how sports would change in East Germany. They were the original Big Red Machine. All the swimmers came out of there, a lot of the track stars. They were state government–supported. Obviously East Germany was opening up, so that’s why we went. We talked to Katarina Witt. She was performing in East Germany. We went to her training facility. She had grown up behind the wall. My father’s name was Max. He had grown up in Amsterdam during the German occupation and was under the German boots for six years. So this was personally and professionally a very, very powerful story for me to do. It was a joyous scene. People had walked for days just to taste freedom. There were people up on the wall and singing. I actually chipped off pieces of the wall and gave them to all my friends and family for Christmas presents.

Do you and your husband, fellow broadcasting legend Dick Stockton, exchange pointers regarding your on-air work?
No. We’re really supportive, but it’s so great because we can talk in shorthand about Donovan McNabb or Brett Favre. It’s really great, and we’re married 28 years. It’s good because we understand that people work weekends. I think I spent two Thanksgivings on the Madden Cruiser. And he’s done many NBA games on Christmas. So we really understand the calendar. We go to Europe. We have a few days off for the Super Bowl before NBA and college basketball begin, so we’re going to Budapest in February. [laughs] I mean who goes to Budapest in February, but that’s when we have a little time. We have a lot of frequent-flier miles as you would imagine.

If you could give all women one tip or tool for succeeding in male-dominated fields, what would it be and why?
My one tip would be: Believe that you belong. I had to grow into that. I would say as my experience grew, my confidence grew — and also respect from others.

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Brian T. Horowitz is a freelance writer based in New York.

You may recognize Peter Greenberg as the travel editor for CBS News and The Early Show, as a guest on Oprah or Larry King Live, or as the author for several New York Times bestsellers, like Don’t Go There! The Travel Detective’s Essential Guide to the Must-Miss Places of the World. Although dispensing tips on the most effective way to pack a carry-on or how to get through TSA airport screening quickly is part of Greenberg’s day job, his ultimate goal is to educate people about the world around them with investigative pieces, like his Emmy-winning ABC 20/20 special on the last orphan flight out of Vietnam, “What Happened to the Children?” And, with a resume that includes stints as a TV development exec and an active volunteer fireman, there’s clearly more to this New York native than planes, trains, and automobiles.

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Name: Peter Greenberg
Position: Travel editor for CBS News; host of Peter Greenberg Worldwide radio show on SIRIUS/XM and the one-hour television special The Royal Tour, which can be seen on The Travel Channel and The Discovery Channel; contributing editor for AARP, Men’s Health, Parade, and MSN.com.
Resume: Started as West Coast correspondent for Newsweek and was later appointed vice president of television development for Paramount. Served as the travel correspondent for ABC’s Good Morning America, NBC’s Today show, CNBC, and MSNBC. Chief correspondent for the Travel Channel from 1998 to 2005. Author of five New York Times bestsellers, including Don’t Go There! The Travel Detective’s Essential Guide to the Must Miss Places of the World.
Birthday: January 20
Hometown: Manhattan
Education: University of Wisconsin
Marital status: Single
First section of the Sunday Times: The front page
Favorite TV show: Real Time With Bill Maher and Deal or No Deal
Guilty pleasure: Boating
Last book read:“Angler: The Cheney Vice Presidency, by Barton Gellman
Twitter handle: @PeterSGreenberg

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You started your journalism career on the news desk — how did you make the move into the travel industry?
Travel is news. I am an investigative reporter — I was the guy with the suitcase in the car. One day it dawned on me that no one was covering travel as news. So, I trained as [a] captain and was trained to fly at an early age, passed my boating exams. If you can’t understand the process, how can you tell the story? It’s real life, real world training. All I did was apply my investigative techniques to travel. I worked the [O.J. Simpson] case while I was covering travel, I covered the war — there’s always been a hard news angle. Yes, people know me as travel person, but I wouldn’t have been able to do it without knowing how to do what I do as an investigative journalist.

In your TV series, The Royal Tour, you feature personal, one-on-one journeys through various countries with their heads of state. Was there one visit in particular that stands out?
His Majesty King Abdullah II of Jordan. That was the most amazing one of all. He’s an amazing visionary who understands the power of travel to break down stereotypes.

One of the most tragic events in American history, and the airline industry, occurred on Sept. 11, 2001. How did you cope with the events as a reporter, fireman, and travel expert?
I was in the green room of the Today show four minutes before going on air when the first plane hit the building. I ran down to the control room and told them, ‘That was no small plane,’ and just then, the second plane hit the second tower. The decision was made for me to stay in the studio and report. I was there for 20 hours. I was writing hand-written notes to Katie Couric, and she said at one point, ‘Our travel editor Peter Greenberg just handed me this note…” That’s how all my friends and family knew I was alive. I stayed reporting for them and MSNBC until 2 a.m. — that was the moment it hit me. I left the studio around 2 a.m. and hadn’t been outside all day. Manhattan had been evacuated, and that’s when I realized what was happening: There were no people, no cabs, no rushing around. At that precise moment, the wind shifted and I could smell burning electric conduit and flesh and kerosene.

As a fireman, I felt so badly. I don’t fight high-rise fires — more house-fires — but any time you’re fighting a fire above the eighth floor, it’s a tremendous challenge due to the 85 pounds of equipment you’re carrying.

As an aside, that’s also a good travel tip: While the penthouse [in a hotel] might have the best views, the fireman will have a harder time reaching you if there’s a fire.

“We live in a world of specialization. Saying you want to be a travel writer means nothing to me — travel as it relates to what?”

How do you find TV since you’ve moved from behind the scenes for shows like MacGyver and Thirtysomething, to in front of the camera as a correspondent for CBS?
I’ve always done both — writing and producing. I ran the teams who developed the series with MGM and Paramount, and I wrote for Law & Order, but I’ve always believed you go with your strength. I’m as confident behind the camera as I am in front of the camera. I also produce The Royal Tours, which is a lot of time in the editing room.

You run the gamut of all media — print, online, radio, TV . Is there one medium you enjoy more than the others?
The one I love most is radio. For three hours every Saturday, I can say what I want. You can’t be wrong, and you have to be fair, but you have the time to ask the questions you want answers to. You learn the importance of the fast sound bites in TV, but on the other hand, you have the freedom to expand the story in radio.

How do you continue to encourage travel, especially in this economy?

I don’t define what I do as promoting or encouraging; my job is to educate people and give them options. I think I’m the only radio show on travel that doesn’t sound like an infomercial. I don’t read live ad copy on air, I’m not a spokesperson or endorser for any product. The audience needs to take me seriously without me pushing product on them. That’s why I did a book like Don’t Go There…. It talks about the good, the bad, and the ugly side of destinations and allows the traveler to make up their mind.

Is there anywhere you haven’t been?

Newark. I’m kidding, of course. There are 196 countries in the world — I’ve been to 151, so there are another 45 countries I need to get to.

What destination would you go back to over and over again?
I can’t think of one that I wouldn’t. I learn something new every time I travel — I take nothing for granted.

What advice do you have for someone who wants to get into travel writing?
The most important thing to remember is that we live in a world of specialization. Saying you want to be a travel writer means nothing to me — travel as it relates to what? What are you bringing to the party? For example, 52 percent of travelers are business women — who’s talking to them? Don’t say you want to do travel. Go beyond that and tell me what you’ve got to share. That’s when you’ll find your niche. Think about something or someone that you know of that you have access to that no one else does. Think about everything you take for granted there, and then tell me why it’s a good story. If it’s in the [tourism] brochure, I do not want to know about it.

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Melanie Nayer is a travel writer for various publications including the New York Daily News, The Boston Globe, The Washington Times, and online sites including Cheapflights.com and Gadling.com.

Sunny Anderson’s path to Food Network stardom didn’t start with culinary school or a five-star restaurant. The ebullient epicurean joined the Air Force and began her broadcast career as a host and radio DJ in Seoul, South Korea, where she was stationed. She went on to radio posts across the U.S. in Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, and Michigan before settling in New York City in 1998 at hip hop station Hot 97. Anderson’s love of cooking for friends grew into a steady stream of catering gigs, which she transformed into her own company, Sunny’s Delicious Dishes, in 2003. “I’d leave for work in the morning [with food] marinating, get on the air from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., get home at 4 o’clock, start cooking, and be ready for an event that night,” said Anderson.

After impressing Food Network producers during a guest spot on Emeril Live, she eventually landed her own show, Cooking For Real, in 2008. Between odes to chimichurri, New York pizza, and Chicago hot dogs, Anderson spoke to mediabistro.com about how she transitioned from radio to cable TV’s foodie haven and revealed the one thing she’d never change about herself.

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Name: Sunny Anderson
Position: Host of Food Network series, Cooking For Real
Resume: Began career as a radio host, reporter, and producer for U.S. Air Force. Followed with on-air announcing stints at WYLD and KUMX in New Orleans, La.; WJWZ in Montgomery, Ala.; WDTJ in Detroit, Mich.; and WQHT (Hot 97 FM) in New York, NY. Opened the catering company, Sunny’s Delicious Dishes, in 2003. Worked at Hip Hop Weekly as food and lifestyle editor for two years. Joined Food Network as co-host of Gotta Get It in 2007. In 2008, began hosting her own cooking show, Cooking For Real, as well as the primetime series, How’d That Get On My Plate?.

Hometown: “None, [I] grew up as an army brat, [and] moved more times than my age!”
Education: Defense Information School — Broadcast Television/Radio/Public Affairs, certificate. Loyola University, New Orleans — sophomore status.
Marital status: “Nevaheardofit.”
First section of the Sunday Times: “I go front to back, I like the suspense and payoff of getting to each section. ‘Travel’ and ‘Food’ are my top picks, though.”
Favorite TV show: “Seinfeld, Dexter, any and all news, Forensic Files.”
Guilty pleasure: Reality TV, anything fried, and frozen candy bars
Last book read: This Family of Mine: What It Was Like Growing Up Gotti by Victoria Gotti, The Zero Game by Brad Meltzer and Official Book Club Selection: A Memoir According to Kathy Griffin.
Twitter handle: “None, I ‘Tweet’ old-school at SunnyAnderson.blogspot.com.”

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Talk about how you started your catering business while you were working at Hot 97. What inspired you to take what you love and turn it into a business, and how did you balance those two jobs?
It was hard. It started me, I didn’t start it. I was doing a lot of hanging out with friends and was single at the time. So if I made a big tray of mac and cheese, I can’t have that in my fridge — I’ll eat it. So I would just take it with me and feed people. It came to people saying, ‘Can you make us a tray?’ It got to be so much that I started to try and figure out: How can I slow this down? So, I said to myself, ‘Maybe if I charge them, they’ll stop asking me to do it.’ When I charged, they were like, ‘Okay, no problem!’ Next thing you know, I was getting people asking me to do real events, like media events, business meetings and album release parties.

“You can’t just say to yourself, I want to do A, B, and C. You’ve got to let people know that you want to do it.”

Your first Food Network appearance was in 2005 on Emeril. How’d you land that appearance?
I was still at Hot 97, and it was a year or so after I started catering for people. One of my [radio] listeners worked with Emeril Lagasse. She’s now a producer on his show, but at the time she was just audience coordinator. She said, ‘Hey, I listen to this girl on the radio, she’s always talking about food, and we already know she can talk. She’s not going to get nervous. Let’s look into it.’ So they gave me a call, and I had meetings with them. I secured a performer for them to perform with the band; I submitted recipes for them to choose from, and in the end, we decided [I would] guest on the show.

I didn’t even meet [Emeril] until the day of. It was like, ‘He’ll meet you that morning, and he’ll decide after he meets you if he’s going to bring you up to cook with him. Just be prepared to sit at the counter, wave at the crowd, and just answer any questions.’ So I’m just sitting there, and he’s like, ‘So, Sunny, you gonna come up and help me out?’ It’s just one of the most surreal things.

How did you go from being a guest on the show to having your own?
That very day, one of the producers pulled me to the side [and] asked me if I had a good time. I said, ‘Yes, I totally did,’ and they said, ‘Good, because it looked amazing, and I think you might have the ability to do this.’ I was at a point in my radio career where I was reaching the end of my contract, [and] I was trying to figure out what’s next. So I immediately got the producer’s information and started having conversations with her about what I could do to get closer and closer to the goal of having a cooking show. Any time she had free to go to lunch, I would ask her out. Once or twice a month. And we’d meet up. I’d just let her know that I was really serious: If she thought I did a good job without trying hard, just see what happens when I try hard and I have all the things in my realm to try and get the job done.

Did you have an agent?
No. I had a lawyer that I dealt with for my radio career that dealt with my contracts. She believed in me so much and thought that I was going to get a show — and this was back in ’05 — that she took me in to meet not only her agent, but Emeril Lagasse’s agent, as well. They gave me a verbal agreement — ‘If anything comes of it, we’ll represent you or help you out.’ I was too small for them to even sign me and waste real time on. That’s the name of the game with agents: You either are very small, working hard to get one, or you are very big and you already have one. It’s really hard to get one-on-one time with an agent when you’re working to get on the map. But once you put in some effort here and there and [have] done some footwork and gotten a little bit of notoriety in whatever field you’re trying to do, that’s when it’s a good time to reach out to an agent and say, ‘Hey, look, this is what I’ve done thus far, with the smallest of connections, without a team. Would you like to be a part of my team?’ Because keep in mind, the agents work for you, and a lot of people go into the mentality thinking it’s the other way around.

“There are a lot of people that are going to ask you in broadcasting to compromise who you are, and you’ve got to figure out if it’s worth it or not. Nine times out of 10, it so isn’t.”

What personal branding advice would you give to someone who’s pursuing a broadcast career?

You must be yourself, because if the cameras start rolling and you become some other person, then the camera won’t lie and it will pick up on everything. The goal was and always is — even in radio, if I had an interview with a program director and they were trying to figure out if I was perfect for their market — I was unapologetically me. If I didn’t know something, I was okay with it and told them, ‘Hey, I can learn it, no big deal.’ Many times, programmers were concerned with my accent, because I kind of take on where I live due to my upbringing and moving around a lot, and it was always, ‘Well can you change your accent?’ There are a lot of people that are going to ask you in broadcasting to compromise who you are, and you’ve got to figure out if it’s worth it or not. Nine times out of 10, it so isn’t. I mean, I’ve been asked to change my name.

From Sunny?
Can you believe it? I was like, ‘Really?’ Because Sunny’s my real name, and it also happens to sound like it’s my fake name. So it’s kind of tragic to me to change my fake-sounding real name to a fake name. I fought that, and won that fight, but there have been so many things. People telling you to dress a certain way, or speak a certain way, or whatever. You’ve just got to be yourself.

The foodie culture has been surging lately. It seems everyone is an expert or a gourmet. What steps could a home cook or food lover take to break into a public or media career?
The best way is just to be open to the process of what you love. And people have to know that you’re open to it. You can’t just say to yourself, I want to do A, B, and C. You’ve got to let people know that you want to do it. And then they might know someone that knows someone that knows someone. You’ll never be in that conversation until people know what your intent in life is.
There are so many people out there that will truly just give you the lift up because they want to see you succeed. Then the key is keeping the job. Not being afraid to work for free… There are so many avenues. If you’re a foodie and you want to get into it, there are grocery stores that have classes that normal people can teach, if you have something to offer. If you just really love what you love, you’ll find a way and not let money and the idea of famin’ to claim get in the way. That’s what really muddies it up — when you’re just out there to make a dollar and to be seen — that just is a hot mess.

“I’m constantly watching myself — kind of like a football player — I’m trying to just get better every time.”

There’s a lot of pressure in radio to be ratings-driven and always thinking about numbers. Is it the same way for you on TV or can you just do your thing?
In television, it’s a little bit more smoke and mirrors. I don’t get my ratings as regularly. They come out every week, but I do get reports when I’m exceptionally doing well. So the stress isn’t there so much as on a daily or weekly basis, but it is there to the point where I know that if my ratings aren’t performing for the network, I won’t have a job. I’m more obsessed with getting better. This is my infancy: I’ve only been doing this for a year and some change now. I’m constantly watching myself — kind of like a football player — I’m watching my tape and I’m trying to just get better every time. Sometimes I watch myself and I’ll say something that’s not as harsh as my face looks — like I’ll say I don’t really like chocolate ice cream but my face looks like I hate chocolate ice cream. Which, by the way, I really don’t, I love it.

How much do you interact with your TV audience?
With the immediacy of radio and picking up that phone — being able to talk with someone that agrees or disagrees with what you just said, or wants to win some tickets, or wants to discuss gossipy information — I missed it when I left radio. So now I blog. It kind of fills in the blanks for me. I try to get out to as many events as possible, and I encourage people to come and say hi to me. I like meeting people that are foodies, not just because they’re watching my show but because it’s another chance for me to go off into a tangent about whatever food issue we want to talk about at the moment. Makes me feel not so lonely in my foodie world.

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Blake Gernstetter is mediabistro.com’s associate editor.

James Othmer grew up thinking he’d go nowhere. A kid with zero direction, his only career advice came early on from his older sister, who suggested that his wise-cracking personality might be suited for a copywriting job in the advertising industry. To her credit, Othmer says, “She spent five minutes more than anyone else spent in my life at that time thinking about what Jim can do with his future.” But it was the writing he later honed as a reporter for The Boston Globe and New Haven Register that truly propelled him into the field as a copywriter, and later creative director, leading campaigns for clients like KFC and AT&T.

Fast forward to today and Othmer has become an in-demand author. As his debut The Futurist is being prepped for the big screen, his recently released Adland is a tell-all of his days in the advertising world. Drawing on his experiences watching Young & Rubicam miss the ‘Internet’ boat along with almost everyone else, Othmer takes us through what it was like knowing his once-Herculean shop couldn’t compete with smaller, nimbler agencies. And he was partially to blame. Those stories and others were the basis for Adland — in which he describes himself as an average copywriter. Things haven’t been any easier for him as an author. From one agent that quit representing him to go to clown school to another that passed away, Othmer’s been to the bottom more than once. We sat down to discuss how he got back up and where he’s going next.

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Name: James P. Othmer
Position: Writer/creative consultant
Resume: Started out as a reporter for The Boston Globe and New Haven Register. Later did stints as a copywriter and creative director for several companies, including Dell Publishing, Franklin Spier, Grey Entertainment & Media, and Young & Rubicam. Author of The Futurist, Adland, and Holy Water. Also a freelance contributor for Esquire, Condé Nast Portfolio, New York Times, Forbes, and more.
Birthdate: October 17, 1960
Hometown: Mahopac, NY
Education: B.S. in Journalism from Northeastern University; MFA in Creative Writing from NYU.
Marital status: Married 26 years.
First section of the Sunday New York Times: “Week in Review.”
Favorite TV show: CBS Sunday Morning
Last book read: Let the Great World Spin, by Colum McCann
Guilty pleasure: “Going out and pretending I still have an expense account.”
Twitter handle: @jamespothmer

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Tell us a little about your background in advertising and your transition to published author.
I got into advertising in a roundabout way — unlike people, say at Creative Circus or VCU Brand center, who are fixed on it and know what they want to do and are locked in on advertising as a career. I started as a journalist. I left The Boston Globe and the New Haven Register and gave up on some sports writing because I didn’t want to work nights and weekends, and the money wasn’t so wonderful. So I went into publishing and then eventually writing ads about books. And then I went to a mainstream agency; my first big mainstream agency was N.W. Ayer. I left newspapers so I didn’t have to work nights and weekends, but I immediately realized that advertising was all about working nights and weekends.

I never looked at [becoming an author] as a change; I looked at it as a goal. I realized that if I wrote a nice little jewel of a novel that would have a small readership and was well-reviewed, I would never come close to making the money I was making, even as a copywriter. I realized it was an unrealistic goal to say I’ll be a self-sustaining writer of fiction. So I kept at it, and I wrote three novels. I had several agents. One agent died, one agent quit to go to clown school.

Clown school, seriously?
Yeah. She quit to go to clown school. We were going to talk about auction strategy [for my first book], and soon after, she informed me that she would be going to clown school. So I went home to my wife and I said, “My agent is going to clown school. If I really want to write at this point, when your agent goes to clown school, you must really want it bad.” Because if there was ever a time to completely be psychologically crushed, this would be the time. I even thought, you know, “Can you do both?” I wanted to, like, beg [my agent] to stay and, “Just make sure to take the little red nose off and the big shoes before you go into pitches,” but I realized that even if I wasn’t guaranteed success or publishing, being published, I was going to stick to it. And ironically that’s when I wrote the first chapter of The Futurist, and that set things in motion.

“Writing radio copy [for] the ear while there’s a clock ticking and a pissed off client and a celebrity talent in the next booth… is a really interesting exercise that has to make you a better writer.”

Could you ever go back to advertising?
I have gone back. It’s funny — I Tweeted the other day, “What’s the difference between freelancing and consulting?” I guess pay, a little bit. And you feel a little bit better about yourself consulting. But I’ve been asked to come in and not knock out ads, but take a look at a brand, and lift the hood up and see if there was something I could bring to it.

What motivated you to write Adland?
I did not write Adland as a love letter to advertising, nor did I write it as a condemnation to advertising. I just thought that as a novelist, as a journalist, and as a writer who happened to spend 20 years in advertising during this really amazing transitional time, it would be great for someone to get it down who was on the inside, wasn’t a CEO, wasn’t a legendary ad person, and wasn’t an embedded journalist. It’s kind of a middle manager’s story of what it’s like, and that’s the part where I realize the timelessness, timeliness of it wasn’t important, because if you can do that and say, “This is what it’s like.”… When you get a job, think about what it entails, what the implications are, what the consequences are, what the choices are. If there’s a good thing that I’ve noticed, [it’s that] younger people are asking those questions before they start, unlike sad people like me who ask these questions 20 years later having a 48-year-old midlife crisis. I think that the fact that it’s written by a relative nobody, truthfully without an agenda to say, “This is how I did this, and how I translated this industry, company,” is kind of good.

You explain in Adland that you were nudged into advertising by your sister. Is there anything about your youth that stands out and shouts that you were meant for advertising, or writing?
A friend who followed me a long time in my advertising read [Adland], and he had read a couple of pieces of the fiction and some of my earlier ads. He said, “You tapped into your inner wise-ass.” It’s not this great story about how I found my voice, but I think he’s right, and I think my sister saw that I had a gift with language, I had a vivid imagination, I had a smart mouth and I was curiousTo her credit, she spent five minutes more than anyone else spent in my life at that time thinking about what Jim can do with his future, and she said advertising would be good.

What was the worst experience you had in the advertising business, and what effect did that have on your career as an author?
I think my worst experience was the KFC experience. I was asked to help out on a pitch, [and] I enlisted my nephew to help. He was going to school in Florida State at the time, and he did the demos for me in his garage. The next thing I know, my nephew was driving from the suburbs, 50 miles, to work with me every day and watching me get yelled at by clients. I think we had just lost Citibank and I had to build something that was ours again, so I said, “Okay, I’ll do KFC.” And it was not the most rewarding creative experience. It was lots of travel, lots of tension, and lots of stress because the account was about to walk. We saved it, but they ultimately walked while I had it.

“[While] researching Adland, I found shops still saying, ‘This is our digital side, and this is our other side.’ It’s really surprised me that it wasn’t incumbent upon everyone to be versed in all of it.”

You are a copywriter-turned-author. Talk about the transition from short-ish form to long form.
I think advertising was great training for fiction, and fiction was great training for advertising. I would pilfer freely from both sides. Writing radio copy [for] the ear while there’s a clock ticking and a pissed off client and a celebrity talent in the next booth — and you had to cut 20 seconds out and still maintain the concept — is a really interesting exercise that has to make you a better writer. I was great at writing the vision statements, the strategic pitch thing, but I did not have some wonderful ad career or killer reel or anything. People who knew me in advertising knew I delivered good work, smart strategic work, creative work — stuff that usually came in second place.

In Adland you reiterate that in the mid-late ’90s, Young & Rubicam wasn’t ready for the digital advertising changeover. What did it feel like to know that the techniques you’d used for years would need a complete overhaul?
Part of the problem with Y&R at the time was they were encumbered by legacy people, and teams, and systems, and satellite offices, and they would buy an Internet play rather than seamlessly integrate it into the program. And then I went walking around the country in 2007-2008 researching Adland, I found shops still saying, “This is our digital side, and this is our other side.” It’s really surprised me that it wasn’t incumbent upon everyone to be versed in all of it.

How did you get permission to tell Y&R’s stories in Adland?
I did not. It’s funny ’cause most of the people are gone who are in the book. Most of the people, I think, I reflected upon them pretty well. If I complain about something, I’ll usually give context and say, what I realize now is what strain they were under, or what they were hearing from their boss. I wasn’t out to hammer the industry, or [to] hammer any individuals. But nah, I didn’t ask permission.

It was already written?
It was already written. Yeah. So it was about a 16-month turn around just from a written book. Adland was very frustrating in that I really felt that there was a born-on date, or a shelf life for a book like this, and I urged my publisher to try to get it into print as quickly as possible. I put pencils down when I got back from Cannes in 2008, and [the book] didn’t come out until mid-September of 2009.

How did you get your first book published as a relative unknown?
I published the first chapter of The Futurist in the Virginia Quarterly review. It came out in November of 2004, I believe, and it was then picked with Salman Rushdie and a couple of other writers as a finalist for the National Magazine Award for fiction. So after clown school agents and agents who died and all that stuff, I had agents calling me for the first time. The guy I ended up with is John Grisham’s agent.

What’s next for you?
My next novel will be called Holy Water; it’s coming out in June. That’s about a water-filtration salesman who gets transferred to a third-world nation to open up a back office in a drought-plagued nation. His wife has thrown him out of the house because he lied about his vasectomy. It’s one of those books. But he’s vice president of Underarms and Sweat at a P&G Colgate-like multinational. It’s this kind of droning job. It touches upon globalization, consumerism, ‘What are we doing with our lives?’

I have TV projects in the works. The Futurist is being produced as a feature film by Reason Pictures. It’s not on any schedule yet, but it’s been optioned, there’s a film option for that. There’s a good director attached to it, there’s a really good actor that I can tell you off the record, attached to it.

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Mathew van Hoven is editor of AgencySpy.

In 2005, The Atlantic published an essay by Walter Kirn titled “Lost in the Meritocracy.” The story about Kirn’s experiences in education both before and during his time at Princeton elicited a flood of reader response from people who identified with both the personal and structural problems that Kirn identified. This year saw the publication of Kirn’s memoir, Lost in the Meritocracy: The Undereducation of an Overachiever, a project which spurred from the ideas in his initial essay.

Regardless of how he spent his time at Princeton, since graduation Kirn has established a two-tiered career as a journalist and a fiction writer. Kirn has contributed to The New York Times ‘Book Review,’ Time, GQ, Esquire, New York and many other publications. He’s also written five novels and one collection of short stories including Up in the Air, which will be released as a film this Christmas starring George Clooney. Kirn spoke with us about writing a memoir, getting his personality reviewed, and the constant struggles of a freelance writer.

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Lost in the Meritocracy began as an essay in The Atlantic in 2005. What about these experiences did you feel was important for you to write about, and why did you wait until now to do so?

I’m mostly a novelist, but as a storyteller, I’m always looking for underdeveloped territory. I felt there was a real lack of honest narrative about educational experience, the college years. The ratio of rhetoric and PR to truth telling is skewed. I had a particularly hard time at college for reasons that were personal, but also somewhat structural. And over the years I’ve come to feel that people are less than candid or forthcoming about the college years as a phase of life. I felt like Ivy League education had really come across as a lot of B.S.

“Turning myself into character and turning my actual experience into a story while remaining faithful to actuality was a huge challenge for me.”

Was the perspective of more than two decades necessary for you to write this story? In what ways do you think that distance affected the telling of it?

I don’t know that I ever achieved much perspective on the matter, because I never thought about it. College was one of those experiences I was told I should feel one way about. I was supposed to be happy all the time. I was supposed to be grateful. It may speak to my limitations as a person that I felt as miserable as I was. It was only the occasion of starting to think about it again 20 years later that I had any perspective whatsoever because I just blocked it out of my mind. The reason I wrote a book was that after I wrote the essay, I had a sizable response in the letters of personal outpourings. Everyone, it seemed, had been less happy than they were supposed to be and less well educated than they were pretending to be. It seemed a rather widespread experience in college of trying to keep up with people you haven’t decoded yet, doing far more social studies of campus than sociology in your academic classes.

In what ways has the experience of having children affected your thinking on your own education and its value?

In the book, I tried to look at education in the longer term structuring of personality, and I saw that a lot of my personality, and a lot of my generation’s personality, had been engineered, so to speak, by the ideologies and technologies behind our education. It turned out a certain kind of person, of which I was typical, in a way. Of all the forces on the personality we’ve examined in the memoir over the last 20 or 30 years, family dysfunction, etc., perhaps the most obvious had gone unexamined: Education. What we do in school all day. The kind of person they present as ideal to you that you try to be or rebel against being. As I saw this in my children’s lives, I did come to think about it more. In their public elementary school in a small town in Montana, not unlike the small town in Minnesota that I grew up [in], I was surprised at how much more nuanced the elementary school curriculum was compared to when I was a kid, which seemed to be about turning out junior astronauts or something. Between the physical fitness certificate and the IBM-generated reading comprehension kit, I felt like we were being trained for some sort of un-uniformed army of future corporate-nauts.

You’ve written a lot of nonfiction over the years, but never anything book-length. In what ways did the experience of writing novels make the process of writing a nonfiction book easier?

It made [the process] much harder. You don’t have a novel without a story or without a character or all these other classical elements. You think when you sit down to write a memoir that you have a story to tell because you have yourself and what happened to you, but that doesn’t make a character in a story. Turning yourself into a character and making the story story-like are still jobs that you have to do when you’re writing a memoir or nonfiction. You can’t just record a sequence of events and have a narrative. In other words, turning myself into character and turning my actual experience into a story while remaining faithful to actuality was a huge challenge for me.

You realize that the conventions of storytelling are even more important when you’re telling a real story than when you’re telling a made-up one. It’s tempting in the memoir to just set down a dull list of events. In telling the story, you really have to decide what’s important [and] what’s not important: which events speak to the themes of the book, and which aspects of your own personality can be focused on so as to create a coherent character, and what scenes seem to distract from the telling.

“I feel like I got into whaling five years before whale oil was replaced by petroleum. In the late ’90s, I had very lucrative magazine contracts in several places of the sort that aren’t offered anymore.”

The book has a very different structure than the essay, but it does start and end with the same scenes. Did you think of the framework of the book as the same as the essay or was it just by coincidence that it worked out this way?
[The book] takes a much broader cut of time. I start with my earliest memories of what I considered my education and I do come to the same end point. The essay was much longer before it ran. It had to be cut to run in the magazine, and there was a lot of stuff that I sacrificed that I just didn’t want to sacrifice. There’s a lot of the formative influences on me could be traced to a time earlier than my admission to college, and the essay doesn’t make a lot of sense because you didn’t completely understand the person. I wrote it just wanting to get down a few things, but on re-reading it, I was made this way at a much earlier stage than I thought. I was part of an effort to statistically segregate and promote American youth that starts when kids are about five and starts much earlier than college.

What do you feel are the essential qualities of a good critic and in what ways did Princeton teach you what not do?

Deconstructionism was in the air at Princeton. There was still a somewhat classical English department probably, but in other arts and departments, philosophy, comp. lit [comparative literature] and so on, deconstructionism had a huge prestige and it was starting to infiltrate the English department. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I came to see criticism in a much more pedestrian fashion. I would say there’s a difference between a book reviewer and criticism proper. I’m a book reviewer. Small “b” small “r.” I have to produce a piece of writing that’s entertaining and absorbing and even perhaps enlightening in itself. You’re a journalist in a sense. You go somewhere others haven’t been and bring back the news and something of the flavor and maybe do a little analysis too that helps you understand why things are the way they are there.

Criticism was held out to be such a high-faluting game in college. It was a way of subverting and deconstructing these texts which had been the instruments of the power structure for so long and would now be exposed as such. I’ve taken a consciously modest approach to it. I reviewed the Thomas Pynchon novel for The New York Times that I was quite aware most people will never go read. They may have never read a Thomas Pynchon novel. Maybe they’ve tried to read one and given up. Maybe they’re huge fans. The best I could do was put the thing in a snow globe and deliver it to people so that whatever that enterprise that Pynchon’s engaged in, it has some life out there even for those who aren’t going to read the thing itself.

“[The Colbert Report] is a high-intensity experience for the writer because you have to go up against this stylized, ferocious comic genius who starts out at 100 miles per hour and goes to 150 while you’re still trying to catch up.”

Being a fiction writer, does that affect how you review books? Do you review books in the manner that you would like readers and critics to read your fiction?

One thing I try not to be is at all personal. I realized, when you write a memoir, as opposed to a novel, a lot of the reviews are of the main character as a person rather than as a character. I’ve never had the experience of having my personality reviewed before.

I was writing fiction before I was writing reviews, and I have certain practices. I don’t read any other reviews of a book; I don’t read any of the material that the publisher sends along. I prefer to know as little about [the book] as possible. The notion that novelists are working out certain questions in their work, that the sequence of novels that they create are related to others in some coherent way seems, in my experience, to be exaggerated. Not even the writers of most novels know where the heck most things came from. I try to take each novel as a discreet mysterious object that deserves to be inspected purely on its own terms without reference, usually, to the writer’s other works.

As part of your publicity, you appeared on The Colbert Report, which has become a very sought-after slot for authors. How did this happen, and what did you make of the experience?

I got on [The Colbert Report] because I had originally been on about a year and a half before to discuss an essay I wrote in The Atlantic on multitasking [“The Autumn of the Multi-Taskers“, November 2007] and apparently showed up well enough that they asked me back. [The Colbert Report] is a high-intensity experience for the writer because you have to go up against this stylized, ferocious comic genius who starts out at 100 miles per hour and goes to 150 while you’re still trying to catch up. It does sell books. It’s what they used to call a gas, really, to interface with pop culture on that level when you’re used to doing your work alone. I was on there really because I’d been on there before — and why I was on the first time, I really don’t know. Somebody read something I wrote and thought I might be interesting. But, you know, writers should be at least as amusing characters as politicians, and we see politicians on TV all the time.

How has living in Montana affected the way you work or pursue work compared to a freelance writer who lives in say, New York or Los Angeles?

I never set out to live in Montana. I was living in New York, and I got out to Montana for a story and I couldn’t go back. I think living in Montana allows me to see America as it sees itself. Sarah Palin was not such a surprise having lived in Montana. When I moved out here in 1990, Montana really was far away. I wrote about books for New York magazine where I had to fax my reviews in. There wasn’t a Starbucks. There were few chain outlets or national franchises. Over the years, Montana has been knit into the great cyber fabric of the whole culture. It let me be an outsider, and I think novelists are by nature outsiders — certainly critics are. Criticism implies a distance on the object being criticized, and I feel like living in Montana allowed me to live at a distance from mainstream America.

I also found that frankly there is a parochialism to the media that I found kind of shocking. I wrote a big article on methamphetamine in 1998, I believe, on what was a kind of ubiquitous plague everywhere in the Midwest that I’d been hearing about for years and coming up against for years. My editor in New York didn’t know what I was talking about, as if I was reporting from Burma. I’m very glad that I live in Montana after living in New York because I think that the virtues of living as a writer in a major media center are the sense of standards of excellence that are required in various fields and they breed a certain professionalism and devotion to higher standards that might not feel so urgent in other places, but as far as places to gather material about the human experience, they could be somewhat limiting.

Has the economy had an affect on your contracts with different publications or altered how you pursue work?

Totally. I feel like I got into whaling five years before whale oil was replaced by petroleum. In the late ’90s, I had very lucrative magazine contracts in several places of the sort that aren’t offered anymore. I was able to support myself as a freelance writer. I made a decision early never to teach, so I decided I would support myself freelancing as a journalist. It was possible to do in a way it just isn’t now. People at least as talented as I am who happen to be 15 years younger have to work so much harder, write so much more, and take for it so much less than I had to. It’s really disconcerting. It takes a long time and a lot of concentration and energy and a lot of time to do this well, and the compensation for that time and energy has declined dramatically. I was fortunate in that I got a start when things were a little bit healthier, but if I were starting out now, I think I’d be scared witless.

The other big news right now is a film version of your novel, Up in the Air, starring George Clooney is about to be released.

This is every writer’s wet dream of what happens to a novel of theirs. It so far exceeds what was created from my expectations of what could be drawn from that material that I’m almost speechless. Even if I weren’t involved. It’s a great movie. I couldn’t be more delighted. To be in this declining industry at this somewhat depressing time and have the good fortune of having one of your books turned into a wonderful movie is one of the acts of grace that keeps you going as an artist.

Three tips for transforming a story from personal essay to memoir:

1. Identify underdeveloped territory that strikes a chord with readers.
2. Look at different ways to explore the subject and restore elements that had to be cut from the article.
3. You can’t just record a sequence of events and have a narrative. “You really realize that the conventions of storytelling are even more important when you’re telling a real story than when you’re telling a made-up one, because it’s tempting in the memoir to just set down a dull list of events.”

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Alex Dueben is a freelance writer living just outside New York City.