In many ways, The Stranger and I share a history. I started writing for the paper in 1992, when I was still a senior at Seattle’s O’Dea High School, and joined the staff a few years later as the paper’s first receptionist. As the years blurred by and The Stranger grew, I moved from the front desk to distribution and marketing, to calendar editor and film editor, and, eventually, to managing editor.
All told, I spent 16 years involved with The Stranger. It was my college and, for many years, my entire life. And if I have one piece of advice for those aspiring journalists out there, it’s this: Do not work for the fucking Stranger.
Seriously, don’t do it. Find some other outlet—any outlet—to pitch your talents. Start a blog or your own publication on Medium.
Bring back zines or write a goddamn pamphlet to hand out to passing tourists downtown. Not only will your words carry more impact than they would in The Stranger, your future prospects in journalism (if there are indeed still prospects in journalism) will be much, much brighter.