Lately, I’m getting two or three requests a day to write with us. They come from sweet, smart, earnest people, and, while I look at everything they send to me, I usually don’t have time to write back and decline their requests. That’s the one part of this job I really hate, because I’ve always hated being on the receiving end of that kind of transaction. On the other hand, I know from experience that the attention of readers is not something I give, nor something you get, but, rather, something that the writer seizes, takes by the irrepressible force of sheer talent. I’m in the unique position of being able to share this rostrum we have built with other people. But I can’t make anyone listen — not to you, not to me, not to anyone.
I had email yesterday from John Rowles, and, on the strength of that one email, without looking at anything else he had written, I invited him to join us. John’s letter was simply riveting. I read every work, all the way to the end, but I knew by the fifth paragraph that he would be writing with us. I can think of a dozen things I might think about, if I am deliberating about a potential contributor, and I will sometimes appeal to Brian or Teri or Cathleen for advice. But when a writer knocks my socks off — knocks them all the way across the room — there is nothing to think about.
I owe formal introductions for John, and for all the wonderful writers we added last week. For now, here is John’s email in its entirety:
Hi Greg:
1995-6: I was 26 and four years out from earning my BA in journalism when Web 1.0 happened. I spent those four years tending bar and working in ski shops while I started to build a portfolio of feature-length articles. My girlfriend managed an apartment complex, and I met Bill while hanging out in her office. Bill had a computer setup straight out of the movie War Games, complete with a voice modulator (“Hello, Bill. Would you Read more