Obviously I was flattered when the boss asked me for a 700-word meet-the-new-guy column on my favourite person: me.
But come on. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time as a reporter, it’s that people are easily bored and very few topics need 700 words. Even great guys like me, who love animals and always stop to help old ladies cross the street.
Nevertheless, a direct order is a direct order, so I’ll give it a go.
I was born in Halifax, but grew up in Mackenzie, B.C. It’s a small mill town — and runner-up for Hockeyville 2011, I might add — about a two-hour drive north of Prince George. Two hours in the summer, that is. Usually much longer in the winter.
I was first published in Grade 4. Maybe it was Grade 5. Whatever. It was a long time ago. Anyway, I was first published when my submission about our class tour of the local paper-recycling mill was chosen to run in the town’s newspaper. Not that I remember, but I’m sure it was a thrill to see my name in print for the first time, which might be why I do what I do today. Journalists are egomaniacs whether they admit or not.
About 15 years later, I was published again in the student newspaper at Thompson Rivers University in Kamloops, where I completed my journalism degree in 2006. My first real job as a reporter was in Dawson Creek, where I spent two long years. I left the Mile 0 City for a job in Penticton at a paper that I’m probably not allowed to name here. My layoff there in 2009 was followed by another at a news website in Kelowna, then short-term gigs in Calgary, Prince George and Nanaimo.
I returned to the Okanagan last summer with my tail between my legs, unsure what to do next. I spent the next 10 months freelancing for the aforementioned unnamed newspaper and working at a lumberyard in Summerland. An opening eventually came up at the Western News in April and I jumped at the chance to once again trade in my steel-toed boots for a notebook.
I’d like to think I still maintain a sort of blue-collar sensibility that I bring to my job covering mostly white-collar people.
For example: I will never use the word stakeholder in an article, unless I absolutely need to use it in a direct quote. The way I see it, stakeholder is just a fancy name for a vampire slayer, not a name for unique people with unique interests. That’s a pet peeve, but I digress.
It’s been a rather eventful past few years, and I’m eternally grateful for the support of my long-suffering girlfriend, Belinda, a hair stylist, who has remained mostly calm and open-minded despite my perpetual state of limbo. We also have two kids, both of the furry, four-legged variety: Buddy, a 60-pound mutt; and Jack, a 13-pound ball of feline fury.
Outside of work, most of my winters are devoted to officiating minor hockey, and I plan to devote most of my summers to fishing.
Here at the Western, I’ll be covering the education and regional district beats. Sexy? Nope. But local news tends to be that way. What’s important is not always entertaining. Think: asking how she really feels and talking about your relationship.
Back to me now.
Probably the best compliment I ever received as a writer was from an old neighbour who knew me during my youth and could easily sink my hopes of holding elected office if he so chose. He said a few years ago that my voice comes through so clearly in my writing that it’s like I’m sitting in the room with him. High praise indeed.
I hope he’s right, and I hope you enjoy getting to know me, too, just as I look forward to getting to know you. I always enjoy hearing from people who have story ideas, be they bake sales or half-baked conspiracy theories. Full-baked are preferred, but, hey, I’ve got to earn a living somehow. Seven hundred words at a time.
Joe Fries is a reporter at the Penticton Western News. Follow me on Twitter @JoeFries or email jfries@pentictonwesternnews.com
