Advice from journalist, dairy farmer

Some years ago, an email from a 13-year-old dairy farm girl from Central Minnesota landed in my inbox. She said she wanted to be a journalist and was wondering if I could give her some advice.

My initial reaction was that she should contact an actual journalist. I didn’t consider what I do to be journalism, just a form of goofing off with the computer. But, after writing a column every week for nearly three decades, I must reluctantly concede I’m a member of the Fourth Estate.

This silly writing thing began when our area was suffering through a spate of wet weather. Frustrated by the miserable field conditions, I wrote a spoof letter to Mel Kloster, my county extension agent, asking if he could recommend a way to get rid of the ducks and powerboats that had infested my corn field. Mel encouraged me to publish the letter, so I submitted it to our local weekly newspaper, the Volga Tribune.

I was shocked the first time I saw my words in print. “Doesn’t the newspaper industry have any standards?” I wondered. “Shouldn’t journalists be required to be licensed or at least pass a test?” Apparently not.

Emboldened by this discovery, I embarked on an effort to self-syndicate. That was how I learned that journalists have a lot in common with dairy farmers.

For one thing, both dairy farmers and freelance journalists are at the mercy of the market. Many people, upon learning that you’re a writer, assume your income is roughly the same as Stephen King’s. Not by a long shot.

For example, I once submitted some sample columns to a newspaper located quite a distance away. I called its editor to see what he thought.

“You’re good,” he said. “In fact, you’re better than the guy we have now, but he does it for free.”

The implication seemed to be that I would need to underbid free. I told the editor no thanks; as a farmer, I already had ample opportunities to lose money.

I entered into journalism with no training save for what I may have accidentally retained from my high school English classes, and that was precious little since I absolutely hated school. For me, school was an undeserved punishment I was forced to endure, not unlike a prison sentence handed down to a wrongfully convicted young guy. All I wanted to do was farm! And of what use is an education for a farmer?

There must be easier ways to become a journalist other than self-training, but here are some notions I’ve gleaned over the course of my checkered writing career.

There are six simple rules for becoming a better writer. The first three are: read, read, read. The second three are: write, write, write.

Read anything and everything. Read novels and short stories, cerebral columns and fantastic fiction, and don’t forget the comic strips. Deep insights regarding the human condition can be extracted from the likes of Pearls Before Swine.

Read things that make you laugh or cry, stuff written by people you disagree with and articles from authors you admire. Read essays that will expand your vocabulary. Be sure to consume judicious amounts of poetry.

Write a little something every day, even if it’s just in a private journal. Make every email the best it can be. Stretch yourself and question every aspect of your craft. Always ask: Could I use a better word or phrase here? Think of your writing vocabulary as a set of Snap-on tools: You start out with a basic kit and add to it continually throughout your life.

Once you’ve gained confidence in your writing — after it has passed muster with friends and family — submit it for publication. Be prepared for rejection. Bear in mind, this rejection may not be your fault. Perhaps the editor was simply in a bad mood that day. Maybe he or she had stubbed their big toe, had a fight with their spouse or was looking for writing that could be obtained for free.

And, once you are published on a regular basis, be prepared for criticism. Good writers often push boundaries, and there are people who can’t be happy unless they are angry about something. You might simply happen to be their latest target.

Nearly nothing beats the thrill of seeing your words in print and knowing that any number of people could be reading them and are thinking, “Wow, this is pretty good!”

The only thing that might be better is receiving a letter from a young person who wants to know how you got started and is asking for advice.

Jerry Nelson is a recovering dairy farmer from Volga, South Dakota. He and his wife, Julie, have two sons and live on the farm where Jerry’s great-grandfather homesteaded over 110 years ago. Feel free to email him at [email protected].