Journalism for Women | Page 6

I would recommend you, unless you are assured of a genuine
predisposition towards it, to find another and less exhausting, less
disappointing occupation than journalism. For it will surely prove both
exhausting and disappointing to those whose hearts are not set fast
upon it.
But how are you, the woman who desires to be a journalist, to ascertain
whether you have that genuine predisposition, those natural gifts which
will renew your strength and take away the bitterness of
disappointments? You may come some way towards deciding the point
by answering these three questions:--
1. Are you seriously addicted to reading newspapers and periodicals?
2. Does the thought regularly occur to you, apropos of fact or incident
personally observed: "Here is 'copy' for a paper"?
3. Have you the reputation among your friends of being a good
letter-writer?
If you cannot reply in the affirmative to two of these queries, then take
up pokerwork, or oratory, or fiction, or nursing, but leave journalism
alone. If by good fortune you are able to say "Yes" to all three of them,
you may go forward rejoicing, for only perseverance will be necessary
to your success; you are indeed "called."
* * * * *
There are several ways of entering upon journalism. One is at once to
found or purchase a paper, and thus achieve the editorial chair at a
single step. This course is often adopted in novels, sometimes with the
happiest results; and much less often in real life, where the end is
invariably and inevitably painful.

Another way is to buy the sub-editorship of a third-rate paper, by
subscribing towards its capital. By such a transaction one gains
experience, but the cost is commonly too dear.
Another way is to possess friends of high influence in the world of
journalism, who will find for one a seat in a respectable office; an
office where one will be in a position to learn everything without
pecuniary risk, and where one can look forward to earning a salary
within a reasonable time. The sole objection to this method is that it is
usually quite impracticable.
Another way is to learn shorthand and the use of the typewriter, and so
obtain an editorial secretaryship. An editor's secretary has every
opportunity of conning the secrets of the profession, and it is her own
fault if she is not soon herself a journalist.
But the time-honoured, the only proper way of entering upon
journalism is to become what is called an "outside contributor." The
outside contributor sends unsolicited paragraphs and articles to papers,
on the chance of acceptance. By dint of a thousand refusals, she learns
to gauge the public, which is the editorial, taste, and at length, fortified
by many printed specimens of her work and a list as long as your arm
of the various publications for which she writes, she is able to demand
with dignity a position (in the office or out of it, as her tastes lie) on the
staff of some paper of renown. Some journalists are so successful as
outside contributors--writing when, how, and for whom they
choose--that they would scorn the offer of any regular appointment; but
such are rare.
Chapter IV
The Aspirant

When you have decided to become an outside contributor you are
entitled to call yourself by the proud title of "journalistic aspirant."

The procedure of the aspirant is usually this:--
She casts about for a subject on which to write, and according to her
temperament and circumstances she will certainly choose one of six
things:--"A Spring Reverie" (or it may be "An Autumn Reverie," as the
time of year suits); or "Elsie, a character sketch" (describing one of
those insufferably angelic women whom happily God never made); or
"Hints on Economy in Dress"; or "My First Bicycle Ride"; or an
exposure of the New Woman; or, lastly, a short story, probably styled
"An Incident." and beginning: "Enid Anstruther had come to the end of
her resources. As she sat by the fire that winter afternoon, the glow of
the red coal playing on her soft brown hair, she reflected with a grim
smile that," &c., &c.
The aspirant, left to herself, never goes beyond these six topics for her
first venture.
Having written the thing, she copies it out in a hand as fair as she can
compass (or, if she can afford the expense, gets it typewritten)--on one
side of the paper only. She has read somewhere that manuscripts should
be on one side of the paper only, and that they have a better chance of
acceptance if typewritten. Next she stitches the sheets together, as a
rule with black cotton; occasionally she uses a safety-pin for safety.
Then she composes a pretty letter to the editor of the paper with which
she