There will be disappointments enough over the course of your career; your initial idealism must be a pilot light, flickering at times, but never extinguished.
Almost two years into my journalism career, I find myself struggling more than ever with overwhelming self-doubt and a crippling sense of inadequacy. I love my job, and I know I've done good work, but on most days I am gripped by fears of being found out - of my colleagues realizing I'm a failure, of my bosses realizing I'm a fraud.
I'm glad I picked up this book at this time of unprecedented vulnerability. In a newsroom full of award-winning journalists, it's so easy to forget just how totally green I am, and it's easier still to beat myself up for being nowhere near as sharp or eloquent in reporting and writing as these veterans, all the while failing to see the bigger picture, the immensity of real experience that must be fed into the growth of a great journalist.
Perspective - I know now - was what I sorely lacked. Without perspective, every mistake I make gets blown up to epic proportion, every imperfection becomes an elephant in the room, every passing month where I'm not producing an enterprise story is another indicator I will never, ever get my big break.
But slow down, Freedman says, don't be in such a hurry to succeed.
Perspective, among other things, is what Freedman offers in this wonderful book. Wise but never condescending, Freedman draws from his own experience and that of others in the field to illustrate what makes a good journalist, and in doing so gives advice on reporting, writing, storytelling, while also giving insight on journalistic attitude, ethics, and values - patience, patience, patience.
In my darkest time, this book reignites my hopes and dreams, breathes a new life into my semi-dead ambitions, and reminds me why I chose journalism.