Way back in February, I thought jumping ship from my stuffy book publishing house to a hip, young magazine was a smart move. I laughed in the faces of my friends still slaving away in books. I took a pay raise, perks, and my new hip, young friends in stride.
Then… this. One by one, the magazines are falling. Forget the newspapers. Say so long to the Sun and the Christian Science Monitor— you won’t really be missed. No, but the magazines! Farewell cheeky Radar, we hardly knew you. Au revoir Cosmo Girl. Where will our ten year olds turn to for diet advice now? Alas, poor Portfolio, this is the beginning of the end. One by one the editorial staffs at Condé Nast, Hearst, Rodale, and Meredith huddle together in the foxhole and pray for the good lord to save their ass and their benefits.
Yes, the magazine industry has been ambushed. And what better way to document the slaughter of the printed word than by creating a blog that mocks it! How self-referential and smug!
Dear, sweet Magazine Death Pool, I beg you: please leave my magazine off your hit list. I really don’t want to go back to books.