Things you think about decades later

For about three years, between, 1996 and 1999, I did a ton of writing for the Grand Rapids Press Sunday Home & Garden section. They were BIG cover stories (1500 words, plus sidebars) with lots of beautiful photos (here’s a sample), so it was a good gig, although the pay was miserable – $150 max, for 10-12 hours worth of work.

But it was fun to be part of that H&G team, plus, I got to see some fabulous houses. And I have to admit it was also a thrill to see my byline on those Sunday mornings when I’d rush to the mailbox and open up the paper.
(My excitement was really mostly about the photos; I didn’t view them ahead of time and couldn’t wait to see how they looked.)

In fact, I have a ton of clips from that period because on Monday mornings, I’d go up the street to the gas station and plow through their refuse bins in the back pulling out the newspapers they didn’t sell!

Anyway, yesterday I was cleaning out some of my old files and when came across all those GRP stories, I started laughing because I forgot how often I had to use my friends/relatives back then: my mom (on table settings for holidays) my niece (where to find great starter homes) my friend Scott (cool pole barns), etc. There are only so many people who are willing to open their homes and gardens and share them with the entire city of Grand Rapids, so it was hard to come up with ideas/resources month after month.

As I glanced through the stories, I was also struck by my openings. Most of them still sounded pretty dang good, but I did find a couple that made me wince. One didn’t even make any sense: “Did you ever wish that you had a secret garden, but don’t?” What the hell did that mean? And how did it ever get past the editor!

Another one which didn’t get past the editor was an opening he changed slightly. I remembered it because I didn’t like it, and I didn’t see it until it appeared in the paper. (I don’t know if the editors were lazy or if I was that good, but I had very few copy edits in my stories.) Anyway, this one irritated me a little because I thought my original opening was better. It was for a story called “Off the Wall” about ways you could add texture to plain walls.

Mine: “If your walls could talk, they’d probably say, ‘Hey, I’m sick of this flat look. Can’t you come up with something other than another coat of Navaho White to spruce me up?’”

His: “If your walls could talk, they might say they’re sick of the flat look and want something other than another coat of Navaho White.”

Now don’t you think it sounds better to use a direct quote rather than an indirect one? Me, too.
Ahh, such is the life of a lowly freelance writer.