I Remember Nothing – A Nora Ephron Series #3 Journalism: A Love Story

I Remember Nothing – A Nora Ephron Series #3 Journalism: A Love Story

I Remember Nothing – A Nora Ephron Series #3 Journalism: A Love Story

I am on the road this week for work and didn’t want to miss publishing my third installment of The Nora Ephron series. This will be short but nonetheless, here it is…

Nora Ephron's I Remember Nothing, book review in a series
Nora and me in Mobile, Alabama for the week

The next chapter in I Remember Nothing is titled Journalism: A Love Story and in it Nora Ephron lays out how she first became a bonafide reporter. It is no secret that I covet journalists and journalism. I am always saying and thinking that I wish I had gone to college for journalism. So when I saw the title of this chapter I knew I would read it with a strange mix of envy and admiration.

Nora’s first job fresh out of college was as a mail girl for Newsweek but was quickly promoted through the ranks to the highest title a woman could go back then, at Newsweek, in 1962 – a Researcher! Which to say is a glorified title for fact-checker.

Eventually she did make her way over to The Post and it is where she says she honed her skill as a writer – a journalistic writer. She admits to having a lot of help from The Post editors.

The way she described how newspapers were produced back then sounds so romantic and exciting! So many people were employed to put out one edition of printed news. It was fast-paced and intelligent, well-thought out even though they were hammering out stories in minutes! They were naturals. And it makes me sad that we don’t do it that way anymore. But times do change and we have to move on.

It is from this essay of Nora’s that this last paragraph gets seen/read a lot around the internet when it comes to New York City. This is what she has to say about it…

“…. I thought it was going to be the most exciting, magical, fraught-with-possibility place that you could ever live; a place where if you really wanted something you might be able to get it; a place where I’d be surrounded by people I was dying to know; a place where I might be able to become the only thing worth being, a journalist.

And I’d turned out to be right.

So there you have it. Thanks for reading.

headlovebunny march 2014 CarolAnnMarks.comWriter. Blogger. Baptizing the ordinary and mundane with my very own vein of levity.

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