Does this make me the worst web editor in the world?

 

Last week at a journalist outing, a colleague relayed how it wasn't too long ago that journalism students and interns were hesitant to do online-only work.

As far as they were concerned, it wasn't "really" published if it didn't appear in the paper.

That's when I got a twinge in my stomach.

As a web editor, I pride myself on working online. Live-blogging, tweeting, Googling, I can do it all and bring it together in a nice package. I love working in the digital world and think I'd find print a very different place to navigate now — even though I've just been working online for four months.

But when a story I've written gets published in the paper, I get really excited.

I don't want to say it's because my stories are "really" published when they're in the paper, because I know they're "really" published once they appear on thestar.com. But having them in the paper means I can bring them to show my nana, who doesn't have the Internet.

It's just a small minority of the stories I've written so far that have appeared in print, which is likely a good thing. After all, my hope chest is only so big, and it already contains dozens of newspapers from over the years that I've had some small part in creating — whether it be an article I wrote, a picture I took, a headline I crafted or a page I designed.

After I came home with my second article published in the newspaper, my boyfriend looked at me and then to the two copies of the entire Toronto Star from that day I held in my hand.

"Are you going to do that everytime this happens?" he asked.

"What if I just keep the section?" I bargained.

He agreed and hasn't brought it up since. (Though, truth be told, I haven't shown him what I've brought home since.)

When I saw my latest story published in the paper this week, before doing a little happy dance inside, I wondered if getting excited really did make the worst web editor in the world.

But here's the thing: I don't think it does.

If anything, I think my reaction to getting published in the paper illustrates why newspapers won't vanish completely, no matter what the Internet throws their way.

Not only because of people like me that like to read them, but because newspapers offer something the Internet can't. Keeping hold of a moment in time.

For example, I have the a copy of the Ottawa Citizen from the morning of Sept. 11, 2001 — before the World Trade Center was hit. I bought the paper that day because I happened to have an article in it. Now, I have a piece of time of what the world was like pre-9/11. It's really neat to leaf through and see what was "news" before the tragedy. (Remember Chandra Levy? The shark attacks?)

Then the world changed. When the afternoon extra edition of the Citizen came out, I grabbed one of those. I still have that copy, too. I also have the Star from the one-year anniversary of the attacks.

I just can't see keeping a website favourited or in my bookmarks to remember an event that happened in the world that I lived through. It's not the same as keeping a copy of a newspaper, seeing it age and remembering how you felt the first time you heard about what happened, or read the words in the paper.

The web may be able to allow me to do almost whatever I want it to, but it can't do that. And I don't think it ever will.

Thinking that doesn't make me a bad web editor, it makes me a hopeful journalist.

Sarah Millar is a web editor in the one-year intern program at the Star. You can usually find her tweeting up a storm.

How not to break news: Lessons from Giffords' momentary death

I had just sat down at the lone computer in a busy hostel in Zagreb, Croatia when a young man in the lobby got a shocking text from a friend. "Michael Jackson is dead," he announced to the room full of fellow travelers, staring in disbelief at his phone.

United in our curiosity, a group of strangers gathered around me as I hurriedly typed the singer's name into Google. Together, we pored over each detail as I clicked on story after story, constantly refreshing the search page. We wanted every single bit of information, and we wanted it instantly.

I can't help but recall this scene every time there's major breaking news, like Saturday's shooting of U.S. congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. After such an event, people rush to computers, scroll through Twitter and news sites on smartphones, and crank up TVs and radios, eager for the very latest.

We're in an age where it's not only possible to know breaking news moments after it occurred, it's expected. But as technology and social media change how people get news, the journalist's ever-present balancing act between accuracy and speed has become increasingly difficult.

This is far from a new observation, yet we continue to see grave errors made by supposedly reliable media. Erroneous reports of Giffords' death are just the latest examples of media jumping on a story without verifying the facts: CNN, Reuters and NPR were all claiming the congresswoman had been killed, when in fact she is expected to recover.

To its credit, NPR issued a swift and earnest explanation. "Already all of us at NPR News have been reminded of the challenges and professional responsibilities of reporting on fast-breaking news at a time and in an environment where information and misinformation move at light speed," wrote Dick Meyer, executive editor of NPR News. "We learn, we redouble our efforts and dedication and move forward with our best efforts for the millions who rely on us every day."

Here Meyer speaks to the irony of mainstream media trying to keep up with instant communication the Internet allows. Social media like Twitter can be fantastic sources of news, but they can also be echo chambers of misinformation. It is precisely these scenarios that allow outlets like CNN and NPR to prove their true worth as verifiers of information, and capitalize on the fact that many people still won't believe it until they hear from a trusted news source.

Instead, news outlets are trying to win the speed game, even though they don't stand a chance against everyone on scene taking photos, tweeting and updating statuses - then everyone circulating this information. The sooner journalists and editors understand that their currency has become truth and analysis - not necessarily being first on the story - the sooner talk of the death of traditional media will itself die. There will always be a demand for verified information, not in spite of advancements in technology and social media, but increasingly, because of them.

Media should always aim to get news out in a timely manner. But if it comes at the expense of accuracy, everyone huddled around computers from Arizona to Zagreb won't soon forget it.

Wendy Gillis is in her final year of study in the master of journalism program at Ryerson University. Follow her (hopefully truthful tweets) on Twitter.

Five New Year's resolutions for journalists

By Sarah Millar

I'll be the first to tell you no one in my profession is perfect. Journalists are only human after all, and as such are prone to making mistakes.

However, that doesn't give us a free pass to make them. Nor do I see any reason why, as journalists, we cannot better ourselves. So, for those who have yet to make them, here are five New Year's resolutions journalists should make in 2011.

1. You are what you tweet
Twitter can be used for many wonderful things, but it can also sadly be a career-killer. For some, it's tweeting an opinion that can get them into trouble (like CNN's Octavia Nasr who was canned after tweeting she was "sad to hear of the passing of Sayyed Mohammed Hussein Fadlallah. One of Hezbollah's giants I respect a lot."). Journalists must remember what you say on Twitter is public. Then there are the premature death reports: Like Gordon Lightfoot or Pat Burns' premature death. In today's media-saturated world, we all want to be first. But it's better to be right than first.

2. I will spell check before I post
Another thing that can be filed under the "better to be right than first." Everyone makes typos, and they're especially easy to make when you're banging away on a story that's breaking that your web editor wants like right now! and you're typing like a madman. Do us all a favour, if you don't have time for someone else to edit it, at least let your spell checker do its job. There's no need for foolish mistakes.

3. I will talk to real people
Social media is a wonderful invention. It's given journalists an unprecedented way to find sources. However, too many use it as their only source. Social-media sourcing can never replace leaving the newsroom and talking to people on the street (sometimes you stumble into a story you never expected when you report it the old-fashioned way). Sure, there are the online reaction stories that call for Twitter and Facebook quoting, but if it's about a murder, go talk to the neighbours face-to-face.

4. I will find something to do that's not work
It's not just journalists bringing their work home with them, people in every profession are finding it hard to leave it behind. A New York Times article from last August said multitasking is causing more journalists to burn out younger than ever before. So in 2011, turn off the BlackBerry and do something outside of the office. It could be joining a sports league, or starting a class in a subject that interests you. Whatever it is, it's three hours a week that you can make just yours. Three hours where you aren't on your email and on call. You'll be a better journalist if you're refreshed.

5. Join the conversation
Are you on Twitter? Facebook? Tumblr? Do you blog? If not, why not make 2011 the year you start? The web is the future of our industry, so you better catch on if you want to hang on. Older journos, this applies to you as much as to the young journalists out there. Think it's too much to grasp? Have someone who gets it and already does it walk you through it. We web-types are quite friendly, if I do say so myself. As for younger journalists? If you don't have a full-time writing gig yet, blogging is a great way to keep writing while you work away at your day job. And keep it up even after you get that coveted full-time job — writing for yourself can be a great escape from the deadline pressures of work.

Sarah Millar is a web editor in the one-year intern program at the Star. While she won't friend you on Facebook, her Twitter account is open to the public.