While out celebrating St. Patrick’s Day this weekend, I was asked by a total stranger “How does one become famous as a magazine writer?” I replied with something about having great story pitches, yada yada, and he seemed satisfied without asking any follow-up questions. When the convo was over I asked myself the same question: “How DOES one become famous as a magazine writer?” I mean, it can be done, but I’m not so sure it’s all about having great story ideas. Yes, that’s part of it, but there’s more. I know plenty of people who are great writers with great ideas who never get published and mediocre writers with mediocre ideas who get published all the time (I’d like to think I’m somewhere in the middle–I hope).

I’m only 24 with a limited amount of journalism experience in comparison to the industry heavy-weights, so I don’t exactly know how to answer the question to its fullest. The way to become famous as a magazine writer has definitely changed drastically with the Internet–and probably not for the better. Most writers and editors nowadays must be comfortable being on camera. At least that’s what Northwestern told me. If so, this adds a new element to to the mix.

Ok… so let’s think about this. Good writer, great pitches and a pretty face? Wait, I thought us print journalists picked print because we were afraid of the camera? It was always easy to spot the broadcast journalists in grad school. They enunciated their words. They brushed their hair AND wore clothes. Bastards. Although most of them were my friends, I secretly made fun of them for what we “printies” called “selling their soul.” But it seems that in today’s world, I’m the one who must bite my tongue if I want to make in this industry. Because cross-platform also means (in addition to some serious Web skills) having a face for the camera. Wait… so I have to sell MY soul? Damn it. Looks like the broadcasters will have the last laugh.

While I’m totally down for changing with the times–and I’m actually pretty comfortable in front of the camera–I wonder about those brilliant writers who deserve some serious recognition, but aren’t cross-platform and don’t do well in front of the camera. I guess there’s always the New Yorker (David Standish’s answer to everything).

In the end though, for me, it’s really not about being famous. When you are young, being famous and whatnot, seems important. But over time, that kind of stuff doesn’t seem to matter anymore. I always figured I’d be a broke journalist the rest of my life–eventually turning tricks to make ends meet. I would be happy if I accumulated a small following of fans–perhaps they only subscribe to my blog out of pity, but who has to know? It’s all about feeling proud of your work, and developing a clear and distinct voice. That’s all I could ask for.

I’m reminded of the Cat Power song “The Greatest”:

Once I wanted to be the greatest
No wind of waterfall could stall me
And then came the rush of the flood
Stars of night turned deep to dust

Just for kicks, check out my mad skills on camera below. Don’t mind my extra 10 pounds–that’s what grad school does to someone. Crap, I’m already sounding like a broadcaster. Someone slap me.