a day in the life.

When people ask about my job, I feel there is never enough time to actually explain exactly what it is I do. When I say I’m a news producer, that sounds super flashy and cool, but let’s be real. No one who isn’t in the television business actually knows what a TV news producer actually does. I’ve never really put into words exactly what a day looks like for me, a local news producer in market 106. I think now’s the time.

My job is to produce the noon and 5:00pm newscasts Monday through Friday. Each day, I’m supposed to be at the station by 9:30am. For whatever reason, having to be at work on a :30 never works for me. Not sure why, but I can’t get here earlier than 9:35-9:40. This is a problem,  because my first order of business is to help run the morning reporter pitch meeting which starts at 9:30 sharp.

In this meeting all of our reporters, who are each assigned a certain “beat” of news to cover (i.e., education, crime, universities, etc.) gather ’round a big table in the conference room and pitch story ideas to the Executive Producer, the Assignment Desk Editor, and yours truly. The stories will either get approved or not, and then we’ll send them on their merry way to go write, shoot, and edit PKGs, VO/SVs, or VOs. Maybe one blog post I’ll explain what all of those are. But it is NOT THIS DAY.

When the meeting is over, I get to my desk to start working on the noon show. The noon is a bit different from a normal show for me. I act more as an associate producer than a producer, so I’ll just skip to my 5:00pm show to explain.

Between 2:00 and 2:30pm, the 5:30pm and 6:00pm producers make their way into the station. Around this time, the Assignment Desk Editor has a finished rundown of all the stories the reporters have successfully gotten throughout the day. The three of us producers then overlook the rundown, and silently pick stories we’d like to run in our shows. (Doing this while keeping in mind the “feel” of each of the shows. My show’s demo is all the moms that just got done watching Oprah, so I usually run health, education, and human interest stories.)

At 2:45pm, the EP calls the producers into the conference room and briefly goes over the biggest headlines both nationally and regionally for that day. She also assigns us each one VO to write and edit for later shows. Then, on to the mudslinging.

The 6:00pm producer picks the lead for her show first. Then the 5:30pm producer picks his lead. Then I pick mine. The idea is that all three shows lead with different stories, unless there is a huge news story that everyone’s talking about. Then we’re allowed to all lead with the same story. (Yesterday, for instance, we all led with Haiti stories.) Then we’ll pick the stories for the rest of our shows. Each day the 6:00 and 5:30 producers rotate who picks first, but I always pick third. The curse of the 5:00pm.

This is the part where math comes in. I start out with a certain amount of time I’m allotted for my show. Today, I’m going into the meeting with 5:00 to fill. (This is after the things that were already teased to me, the time for sports, the time for weather, and the time for commercial breaks.) I suck at math, but I’ve gotten really good at subtracting time.

After we all pick our stories, we put them in our show rundowns and organize them to our liking. This is called “stacking.”

When my show is stacked, I go through each story script and put in the graphics behind my anchor, name supers, hit times, etc. Then I check each script for spelling, accuracy, read rate/timing, and flow. The hardest part of my job would probably be dumbing down each script. The average reading level of our viewing audience is 8th grade. Yes, 8th grade. It’s my job to make sure everyone watching can fully understand what we’re talking about in 45 seconds or less. That’s a definitely drawback to the job. I love writing, I love flowery language. But in broadcast, there is no room for that, lest you want to put your readers to sleep.

After each script in my show looks good to me, and all the graphics and supers are in place, I head to the control room. I usually try to make it back there by 4:50pm at the latest. Then, using a computer and a monitor, I frantically pull up each piece of video in my show and watch them to try and catch flash frames, jump cuts, bad audio, or anything else that might make the viewer freak. This is the part I wish I had more time for. But the reporters are scrambling to get their video sent to the system on time, so they rarely have their video in before I get back there anyway.

When the show starts, the director takes control. The director rolls video, takes those name supers, advances those graphics, and puts that show I put together in motion. For me, it’s all a matter of timing. I watch the clock, making sure my anchor doesn’t read too slow and make my show heavy (over time) or too fast to make my show light (under time.) Same with my weather anchor and sports anchor. If the video isn’t in, or if I get too heavy, stories have to die. Some promos in the commercial breaks have to die. If I get too light, I’ll have to pull a backup story that’s already been edited and written to put in place of other stories. I can’t really describe the frenzy of the control room, but it’s definitely a heart-pounding, sweat-on-your-brow, tense environment. It can be good if your show is clean, it can be volatile if your show is a mess, prompting your director to shout profanities and nasty names at you.

After the shows air, all of us meet and talk about the things that went wrong in each show (called “discrepancies.”) If your show goes off without a hitch with no discreps, you get a clean show. And that’s awesome. But if some video has flash frames, or if your audio is over-modulated, or if a super is misspelled, prepare for the pain. Discreps aren’t fun for anyone, but ultimately, the blame falls on the producer. Cue stress. That’s the worst part of the job. If I screw up, it’s my fault. But if someone else screws up, it’s also my fault. Talk about pressure.

But the best part about it is, then I get to go home.

And do it all again tomorrow.

Even when discreps fall on me, the newscast is over. It’s in the past. And all I can do is look at tomorrow and ask myself, “What can I do better next time?” And the blessing I have for working in a small/middle market is that I can make this mistakes and learn from them, and still have a job the next day. In bigger markets, I won’t be so lucky.

And that, my friends, is a day in the life.

let’s hang!

The only drawback I’ve found about newlywed life is the crazy assumption by other people that the only person I want to spend time with is my husband.

Granted, Dan is absolutely wonderful. I love him. Spending time with him is always enjoyable. But at the end of every day, I am blessed to be able to slide into bed with him and fall asleep in his arms, regardless of whether or not we were up each other’s butts throughout the day.

Before the wedding, friends would reference fun things to do in August and they’d follow that up with, “Would you be able to come? I mean, I know August is going to be crazy for you and everything…”

What? Actually, August was fine. I got married on August 1st and honeymooned that week. If anything, hanging out in July would have been an issue. Not August.

And now, I get invited out less. It’s just the way it is. Sigh. Is this typical? Do most married people go through this? I don’t like it. I want to do something fun!

I promise, I can come up for air every once in a while. Let’s hang!


I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that I have friends who are snobs. Though the term carries with it a negative connotation, when used in reference to my circle of friends, I feel it is a term of endearment. (Not unlike my inability to control my mouth.)

Arguably the most snobby are the music snobs. Several of my friends are musicians by trade, and therefore know everything there is to know about music. Not just certain genres of music. They know EVERYTHING. Get them in a group together and bring up the time you saw band X at Y venue, and they’ll jump at the chance to either praise your musical genius or pick apart your taste like a festering carcass. They’ll have something to say about both your Bob Dylan records and your collection of obscure showtunes. (I’m looking at you, “Batboy.”)

And then there are the book snobs. They’ve read every book by every author known to man and have analyzed and scrutinized them all down to the very last paragraph. You may think you know the meaning behind “Wuthering Heights” by Bronte, but trust me (and my book snob friends.) You probably don’t. And forget even mentioning the Bronte sisters when referencing literature. So tenth grade.

And then the art snobs. Those who can stroll around an art gallery and think to themselves, “Rubbish.” It’ll look like a pretty picture, and you may admire it for a minute, but the art snob will swoop in when noticing your interest and say something along the lines of, “Oh the contour and the color and the this and the that, so sloppy.” Come on. It’s just a bunch of pictures of fruit and naked people. What is there to criticize, honestly?

Then there are the math and science snobs. I’d try to give you an example, but I’m too right-brained to even begin to get it. When math and science snobs open their mouth and snob it up, I shut off. Sure, it’s interesting. I guess. But the airflow above my head doesn’t sink in enough for me to grasp whatever it is they try and convince me of. Sure, that equation makes sense. Whatever you say, snob.

Oh and how could I ever forget the health/fitness snobs? As a twentysomething journalist living off of a laughably low wage (as well as my pastor husband’s earnings) it is extremely difficult to afford healthier food. I’d love to be a health/fitness snob. I would. But I can’t bring myself to do more than run three or four times a week coupled with putting together whatever food items are in the kitchen at present. No my meal doesn’t contain more than three food groups. No I’m not losing weight. Yes I “only” run two miles at a time. But! At 4:30am on January 10th, you can find me in my bed as opposed to two miles deep into a twelve mile morning run in 16 degree weather.

I brought up the topic of snobs not to poke fun at them. (Okay, maybe a little.) But mostly, I want to be a snob. Painfully. I want to be that person there for when you open your mouth to voice an opinion about something to effortlessly crush it beneath my infinite knowledge on the subject. Looking at my life and demeanor, I feel like I really can’t say I’m a snob about anything. Which I guess some would argue means that I’m not passionate enough about anything, or that I don’t commit to anything, or that I’m vanilla, or whatever. I brought this up with my husband, and he claims I’m a news snob. However I call foul and say that’s an extremely generic cop out. Of course I know everything about what’s going on in the world. I get paid to do that. Knowing everything about everything is my bread and butter.

Also, if you get your news from the ABC affiliate in Tallahassee or by reading the paper, you WILL be misinformed. Just saying.

Where was I? Oh yes.

I want to be a snob about something.


A new year. A new decade. A new blog.

I suppose that I should use this first entry to set the stage of my life at present. Isn’t that what you do when you start a blog? It’s what I do whenever I start a new written journal.

Does anyone do that anymore? Write with their hands?

I turned 24 last month and got married in August to, hands down, the most wonderful man on this earth. His name is Dan and I love him deeply. I work at the local CBS affiliate producing the noon and 5pm newscasts for a laughably low wage, though I can’t complain, because I am doing what I love while putting my very expensive college degree to use. Everyday I strive to become the woman who God has called me to be, and I’m slowly learning to accept the fact that I am prone to make mistakes and that the world goes on if I screw up. My favorite foods are sushi, pickles, and Diet Coke. I could probably survive off of those three items until I died, and wouldn’t get tired of any of them. Sarcasm, cynicism, inappropriate jokes, and regrettable word vomit spew from my mouth on in-numerous occasions, and I try and pass that off as something “endearing” and/or “charming.”

I think you can figure out the rest.

My hometown saw snow today. It snowed in central Florida today. Snow. Frozen precipitation. In Daytona Beach, Florida.

Being a Florida girl through and through, I can’t think of anything I despise more than cold weather. Except maybe terrorists. But even they live where it doesn’t snow.

And it starts.