Until I figure out what’s going on, the offer of free bookplates is being suspended. After a slow but steady trickle for the last two years, I’m suddenly getting upwards of 50 requests a day — and a good number of those are from overseas. I know Red Sox Nation has international tentacles, but I’m not convinced there’s a sudden surge of Pedroia partisans in Poland. For now, everyone who sent out bookplate requests before December 31 will get one in the mail in the next several days. Anyone who sent one between 12:01 pm on December 31 and 3:00 pm today will not be receiving one. Going forward, bookplate requests must include a sentence telling me what you liked (or didn’t like, or expect to like, or expect to not like) about the book. All that will be explained here.
Everyone loves to be loved - and apparently someone out there either loves me…or is trying to bankrupt me with postage costs: I’ve gotten more than two dozen requests for signed bookplates in the last twenty-four hours alone (including several each from Russia and India). For all you domestic readers* out there, don’t worry: your bookplates will be on their way as soon as I replenish my supplies. (Blank bookplates — without cheesy Ex Libris tags or graphics of kittens — are harder to come by than you might think.) Also, feel free to send along any kind of personalized requests, ranging from “To Bob, the best Sox fan in Juneau” to “To Bob, look what your life could have been like if you’d only stuck with Little League.”
For those of you who haven’t yet read FTM and are looking for ways to use your ‘08 holiday gift cards, or for those of you who are a bit behind in your Xmas and Chanukah gift buying, pick up a copy of the book one of my old friends just called “the thing that saved me from having to figure out what to buy for my step parents” and include an oh-so-special personalized note…from me! It (the book - not the bookplate) is only $11.07 at Amazon (cheap!) or $4.91 on the Kindle (which, frankly, seems criminally cheap to me…but from what I hear the whole publishing industry is about to go belly up, so what do I know)
In the days to come, I should be back in the blogging saddle with some thoughts about the Yankees off-season spending spree, the wily negotiating tactics of Scott Boras, the Brad Penney pick-up, and other baseball-related ephemera; I’ll also be writing about some of the other Mnookin-clan writers (we haven’t diversified our careers as well as perhaps we should have), the joys of owning a pit bull (I adopted one a week ago), and the future of the newspaper industry. Until then…do take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
* International fans of FTM: I’m humbled and honored that you like my book enough to read it instead of a book about cricket (although I should pause here to recommend Netherland, one of the best books I read in 2008). Unfortunately, I can’t send bookplates to non-domestic locales, mainly because it takes too long to go to the Post Office and figure out the postage, get air mail stamps, etc. That doesn’t mean you’re out of luck: if you want a bookplate, email me at monsterfeedback at gmail dot com and we’ll figure out a way for you to get me a SASE ASAP.
I expect to get some hits from Gawker every now and again - after all, anyone who once wore this shirt for a photo shoot can’t be surprised when he’s ridiculed publicly. And I’d be a fool not to expect criticism from the likes of “i4yankees,” who posted in the comments section below.
But I’ve also heard from several other folks, and most of them have told me it was a dick move to post the transcript of a voicemail from a Bloomberg LP salesman regardless of how vertiginously convoluted it might have been. For the record, what I thought was odd was not - as Gawker surmised - that said cold-calling Bloomberg terminal salesman didn’t know who I was; what seemed so strange was that I should be on his radar in the first place. (I’ve never, after all, received any kind of sales pitch in the past.) I figured the only way my name could have come up - and the only way he could have tracked down my unlisted home phone number - was if someone in his office actually did know me. And it’s true: I did find it peculiar that he was able to track down a piece on The Da Vinci Code that I wrote more than two years ago without also discovering that the most recent piece I’d written was about his employer.
Anyway. The people have spoken, and they’ve said that the many hours I spend at home in sweatpants and a t-shirt have diminished my ability to navigate the vagaries of polite society. Duly noted. And my apologies, [name] of the Bloomberg LP sales office.
Yesterday afternoon I got a call from someone at Bloomberg LP. Considering the December Vanity Fair features my 6,000-word story on Bloomberg News’s founding, its recent management changes, and the fact that it’s just about the only news organization on the planet that seems to be making any money these days, there were any number of people I could reasonably have expected to hear from.
The message I actually did receive left me speechless. An exact transcription follows:
Hi Seth, [name] calling from Bloomberg. I just wanted to give you a quick call, I was actually forwarded your information from one of my colleagues and I definitely understand you’ve been a contributing editor at Vanity Fair for some time and provided a lot of insight on Dan Brown’s book and a lot of details that events that have occurred at The New York Times, but the reason that I’m calling is that we’ve actually been reaching out to a lot of public relations firms showing them the great tools that we have on Bloomberg to scan for news content relating to Vanity Fair or of course its peers as well so I definitely want to reach out to you and see if you were possibly interested in taking a look Bloomberg. I’ve met with a lot of other publishing firms also, AMI [American Media, Inc. - publisher of The National Enquirer, Flex, and Fit Pregnancy] being one of them, and thought that you as in, as a PR representative at Vanity Fair would definitely benefit from a lot of tools that are on Bloomberg also, so definitely feel free to give me a call and I will follow up with you. Again my direct again is 212-xxx-xxxx, and again we’d be more than happy to stop by and provide you with a little demonstration of all the news functionalities that are available. Again, [name] calling from Bloomberg.
That is truly a work of art. It would have ranked among the dumbest one-minute sales pitches ever recorded even without the conflation of “contributing editor” and “PR representative,” the comparison of Vanity Fair to American Media, or the reference to The Da Vinci Code as “Dan Brown’s book.” And to think that thousands of media professionals have lost their jobs in the past month alone. Sigh.
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After a good stretch without any stories in VF, I have two in this month’s issue: a piece on the American public’s (and the American media’s) waning interest in Iraq and one on the fairly remarkable success of Bloomberg News. Capsule descriptions have never been my strong suit, so I’ll use the magazine’s sub-heads to do the job for me…
The New York Times’s Lonely War
With most of the U.S. media withdrawn from Iraq, only The New York Times seems determined to stay the course. From inside the paper’s fortified Baghdad bureau, Seth Mnookin reveals the psychological and physical dangers that have faced the likes of John F. Burns, Dexter Filkins, and Alissa J. Rubin as the dramatic headlines of 2003 turned into a complex, difficult story that no one wants to read.
and
With its ruthless competitiveness, its singular business model, and its bizarre editorial culture, Bloomberg News has continued to expand even as the media business shrivels. Under the new stewardship of former Time Inc. chief Norman Pearlstine, reports Seth Mnookin, the brainchild of New York’s mayor is poised to become the most consulted news source in the world.
It’s still well worth it to spend the five bucks for a hard-copy of the issue itself–the photos on both pieces are stunning. Except, of course, for the left half of this one…
It’s been a little more than seven years since Inside.com and Brill’s Content cratered…and there are still days when it feels as if the piece of journalism I’m best known for is the obit I posted on Inside a couple of hours after the news was announced. At the time, the scribbling class was worried about what the bursting of the dot com bubble would mean for our future job prospects. Who knew we should have been more concerned about collateralized debt obligations?
Indeed, what’s going on today feels much worse than the collective belt-tightening that went on in the months after 9/11. In June, The Palm Beach Post, the first daily newspaper I worked for, cut its newsroom staff in half. The New York Sun, the newspaper that hired me immediately after Brill’s/Inside folded, shut its doors a little more than a month ago. Newsweek, where I landed next, has gone from hiring freezes to buyouts to staff cuts. And last week, Men’s Vogue, Mrs. FTM’s employer, announced that it was folding. (I know: technically it’ll still be publishing twice a year. But in reality it’s finished: every single employee save for the editor-in-chief was laid off.) I’m not sure if I should be thankful or terrified about the fact that I’m functionally self-employed…
But I digress. I’ve gotten several requests for the aforementioned obit…so here it is, in all of its nostalgic glory.
Inside.com and Brill’s Content to Close — This Time We Really Mean It
Awkward marriage between polar opposites on the hipness spectrum ends, as relationship between Steven Brill and Primedia unravels. 38 lose their jobs.
by Seth Mnookin
Monday, October 15, 2001
Brill’s Content and Inside.com, the church lady and swinging single of the myopic media world who got hitched in April, have been closed, victims of terrible publishing and Web economies and a strained relationship between Steven Brill and his major backer, Primedia.
The moves come as part of an announcement that Brill Media Holdings and Primedia, which owns 49 percent of the former, were unwinding their complicated relationship. Brill’s Content will cease publication immediately. Inside.com, which Brill Media Holdings has sold to Primedia, will live on in name only, becoming a portal for the Media Central publications like Folio:, Cable World and Inside Book Publishing Report. And the management of those Media Central titles will revert to Primedia, which ran them before its deal last January with Brill.
Thirty-eight people, including the author of this story, lost their jobs. And Steven Brill, the CEO of both Media Central and chairman and CEO of Brill Media Holdings, will leave after a three-month transition.
Both Brill and Primedia chairman Tom Rogers said in statements that the performance of the publications was not the cause of the closure. Neither man would comment to Inside.com on their relationship, but reportedly tensions between Brill and Primedia had grown; press reports in recent weeks have speculated that the once-close relationship between Brill and Rogers had soured to the point where it made working together impossible.
“To say you’re surprised at any media business finding it hard to remain in existence at this point would be silly,” says Inside co-founder Kurt Andersen, who along with Michael Hirschorn and Deanna Brown formed the media and entertainment news company in 1999 and sold it to Brill in April 2001. “If sheer quality were a guarantor of survivorship, there would be a lot of publications and Web sites around that are not.”
The announcement, which had been rumored and speculated about in print for weeks, finally came at 10:48 a.m. Monday in the form of an e-mail announcement from Brill. “I would like to meet with people who work primarily on Brill’s Content and Inside at 11 in the big conference room,” Brill wrote, in a message that everyone knew meant the end. An attached memo explained the minutiae of the divorce of what was already an almost comically complicated arrangement.
Andersen, who in a much-ridiculed statement bragged during the go-go year of the New Economy (June 1999 to May 2000, for those keeping score at home) that raising money was as easy as “getting laid in 1969,” said he didn’t know of anything that could have done differently. “There wasn’t some big mistake that Brill made or that we made,” he said.
While Inside will likely be remembered as a white-hot outfit, that, for a brief, shining moment early last year, seemed to be the center of an over-oxygenated media world, Brill’s Content will go down as an occasionally preachy, often confusing, but sometimes fascinating publication that never quite found its niche. It aimed to be a consumer title about the press in the same way that Sports Illustrated aimed to be a consumer title about sports, an ambitious plan done in, perhaps, by the fact that people don’t tend to gather at stadiums to root on their favorite media outlet.
The magazine came onto the scene with Steve Brill’s voluminous and damning portrayal of independent counsel Kenneth Starr’s manipulation of the press through well-timed leaks. But the magazine went through editors and writers faster than a sugar-starved 10-year old goes through candy bars. Michael Kramer and Eric Effron both served as top editors under Brill; when David Kuhn took over as editor in chief in February 2000, Effron stayed on as his No. 2.
Kuhn, who had spent most of his career working with Tina Brown at Vanity Fair, The New Yorker and Talk, immediately juiced up the book. Under his watch, Abigail Pogrebin’s piece on Richard Blow’s confidentiality agreement with JFK, Jr. was largely responsible for squelching Blow’s book deal — which was recently resurrected, however. Pieces on writers Lynn Hirschberg and Alex Kuczynski were hipper and more knowing than the magazine had been known for, and the book’s political coverage was bulked up.
But the publication floundered this spring. At first, Inside’s print magazine and Brill’s Content were going to be joined to create Inside Content; that plan was scrapped several months later, and Brill’s Content was relaunched as a quarterly. While the fall issue of Brill’s was, by many accounts, the strongest issue produced, the notion of an academic-looking quarterly about the media world proved a hard sell.
As Michael Gartner, the magazine’s ombudsman, wrote in a column that will now never run: “Perhaps there’s something more irrelevant, somewhere, than an ombudsman’s column in a publication that just went quarterly in a world that just went hourly. Perhaps there is something more meaningless than worrying about the suddenly silly stories in a publication that zigged and zagged in the direction of Vanity Fair at precisely the time the world careered and careened in the direction of Jane’s Defense Weekly ….Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. But I doubt it.”
Inside had a more consistent, and more consistently lauded, history. Andersen and Hirschorn, by dint of their reputations, personalities, and a now comical belief in the transformative powers of the Internet, attracted a top-notch staff, many of whom were hired as much for their rock-solid connections as for their journalistic bona fides. For example, David Carr, the disheveled, gruff and immensely popular media reporter, came up from Washington, D.C., where he had been editing City Paper to cover magazines and newspapers, while Kyle Pope was drawn from The Wall Street Journal to be the TV editor. (Both left soon after the merger with Brill.)
And Inside broke news. P.J. Mark’s piece on a book about “It,” a mysterious invention that was supposed to revolutionize travel and more, took on a life of its own. Other scoops included: Stephen Battaglio’s piece about Jeff Zucker getting the presidency of NBC Entertainment and Carr and Lorne Manly’s story on the closing of George magazine.
But the hoped-for mix of ad and circulation revenue never materialized. The Internet market collapsed, and people’s aversion to paying for content on the Web was hard to overcome.
“Of course it was fun,” Andersen said. “It’s always fun to create something that not only hasn’t existed before, but to create something that by almost every account was good from the get-go. I think we raised the bar, both in terms of speed, and knowingness and intelligence.”
I wanna know what Justin Masterson said to (what I assume was) second base umpire Kerwin Danley after last night’s eight-inning permanent highlight reel snag by Jacoby “Mr. October” Ellsbury in center. Judging from the grins on both of their faces, I’m guessing it was something along the lines of, “holy shit is he incredible”…
