From Journalist to PR - Part 2
In the first article I talked about making The Big Jump - or Crossing to The Dark Side - which is how many describe the regular journey that is made by journalists who decide to pursue a career in public relations.
That’s me above, by the way, interviewing David Cameron, one of the country’s better known public relations workers - although some would say not the most effective national leader we’ve ever had.
the move from journalism to PR is, of course, pretty much a one-way street. I know dozens of journalists who’ve made the move - but don’t think I know a single person who’s made the career change in the other direction.
There are many reasons for this, but of course the rapid and relentless shrinkage of the world of journalism is the most obvious.
When I was made redundant last autumn the man who handed me my papers said: “You must have known this was coming. It is really sad - we still want you writing for the newspaper - the trick will be to find someone else who can pay you to write for us.”
Being a bit slow on the uptake, I wondered what he meant. At first I thought he was talking about one of the huge charitable organisations for whom I’d done countless journalistic favours down the years. So I contacted a salaried PR I’d worked with closely on numerous occasions - indeed, I had even written a letter of support which had helped her land the lucrative job she was in…
But once my email arrived the ladder of potential help was pulled up with surprising abruptness.
It seemed she wanted me nowhere near her large organisation. I was shocked, we’d always worked so well together and she never failed to gush over me at every touch and journalistic turn. When I told media friends about this rebuttal they said: “Why are you surprised? She knows that you are far better qualified to do her job than she is. She won’t let you within a million miles of the place.”
Which was the moment I learned that having a long and pretty generous track record of doing journalistic favours doesn’t add up to a hill of beans. When you are the person who writes massive spreads for big daily papers, you are a very dear friend indeed - when you are made redundant, you are a nobody.
The thing about holding down a job like my old posting for a very long time is that you begin taking for granted the relevance and the importance of what you do. People say journalists are vain - indeed, I am vain - but I can honestly say that in 20 years of effectively being senior feature writer at the South West’s main daily newspaper, I never indulged in any self-congratulatory thoughts of self-importance.
It never really occurred to me that I could make a massive difference to, say, a local firm or organisation if I wrote about their services or products.
If I am being honest, it was for me always more a case of: will I enjoy writing about this? Is it going to be fun for me? Or is it going to be complex and difficult and a pain in the arse?
Feature writers have the luxury of being able to think in this way, whereas news reporters do not. The news is simply the news, no matter how jolly or unpleasant - you cannot say: “I don’t fancy writing about that grizzly murder today. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen on our patch.”
But as a feature writer you can say: “I’ve got 400 emails from company PRs wanting me to write about different products or services. So I not only can pick and choose - I have to. Which is why this bunch is for the bin, while this one will interest and delight our readers. And, as it happens, it looks like it will be jolly good fun for me to do.”
So there I was last autumn, jobless after 44 years in journalism. I’d never been on the dole - I had done other work, like loading lemon trucks in Greece while young and fancy-free and living in a gorgeous cottage just six feet from the Mediterranean sea. But even then I had earned most of my meagre living from freelance journalism.
But now what was a 60-something hack supposed to do in an age when newspaper journalism was shrinking to almost invisible levels and regional radio and TV were following pretty much the same path?
As it happened I had been invited to address an audience in Cornwall at a conference that had been set up to discuss modern media. I phoned and explained to the organisers they would alas not be playing host to the Editor at Large of the Western Morning News, because he no longer had that job. To my surprise, though, they still wanted me to attend - and they put me up in a lovely hotel overlooking a big beautiful Atlantic beach.
I was one of a panel of four, answering questions from an audience of 60 or more, most of whom were involved in some way with public relations. And to my continued surprise, it was the redundant Hesp who was being asked most of the questions from the floor - probably because I was the only one with an in-depth knowledge of the regional press which, of course, was the most important publicity channel for smaller local organisations and companies.
Afterwards, two things happened. A couple of dozen people from the audience came over to ask what I was planning to do with my future. Then, the next morning, the owner of the big plush hotel had a chat over coffee - and he astonished me when he said: “I’m not surprised they all wanted to talk with you. You have built up quite a name in the region over 20 years - you are one of the West Country journalists people trust.”
My email inbox was busy for weeks afterwards and I had numerous invitations to luncheons and various other forms offering an “informal chat”.
And that is when I thought…. Right, I have a skill-set and a wide breadth of experience - and, it seems, a name. I shall go out there and offer my services.
But where? The only logical answer to which was: let’s start at the top. I asked myself: who runs the most dynamic and efficient public relations company in the South West region where I live and where I’m known? I need one that shares my interests and thinks like I do…
I cast my mind back over all the millions of emails which had entered my inbox over those 20 years at the WMN…
Who had always managed to interest me with their stories?
Who had always responded with great speed and agility when I had given their suggestion or project even a light glimmer of a green light?
Who had been the most efficient when I asked for images or certain arrangements to be made?
Who had been pleasant and fun to work with?
I could count the public relations companies which ticked these boxes on one hand.
But the first person I chose to talk to was Hayley Reynolds of RAW Food & Drink.
Tomorrow I’ll start writing about what I’ve been learning since become Editorial Director at RAW. I think it’s fascinating stuff…
