I can’t rightly remember how long I worked at The Orange County Register—nearly fifteen years or something close. Add five freelancing for the OCR, Los Angeles Times, and Sunset Magazine, and I’ve put in a solid twenty years of creating content.
Considering that I didn’t apply for the newsroom job in the first place, it’s been quite a ride.
After Gary Krino retired, the editors were looking for a writer with home and garden experience to work alongside home-improvement guru Nick Harder.
There I was, minding my own business with my freelance work as Sharon Cohoon from Sunset Magazine was being considered for the position. Ultimately, she declined and recommended me.
Since it had never occurred to me to apply for a job, when an editor called and told me to “get down here,” my question was, Down here where? Seriously—I had no idea.
I was a little cavalier during that first meeting, telling a tableful of grumpy editors everything that I would change in the Home & Garden section. They asked, and it was my chance. As a loyal reader, I wanted something jazzier from my favorite features section than what they were offering. But sometimes, cavalier comes off as confident. I got the job.
My editor pointed me toward a beat-up desk and told me my deadline was the following week. It was going to be interesting—and folks, I’m here to tell you, it was interesting.
What I’m getting at is this: I’m retiring. My husband and I are ready for road trips. It’s hard to do much when you work as a journalist—deadlines loom even when you’re off the clock. There are always pages to fill, and those “news holes,” as they call them, don’t go away because I do.
I never broke a major story. I never blew the lid off an industry or brought down a corporation like some of my colleagues. But I can tell you this—it’s been a blast writing about mums while some reporter two desks over was discussing murders.
I’m not going away completely. I’ll continue to write—and I’ve finally finished my first manuscript, The Victory Garden, I’ve been waiting years to write. And just think, I can hike the Grand Canyon without checking my messages every two seconds.