The Medium Is the Message--Especially on Deadline

“How do you come up with those darn columns?”

People ask, but I can’t tell them. It’s a secret. I can shed light, however, on one of the lesser-known aspects of the creative process--the interplay between writer and editor. What follows (more or less) are some computer messages exchanged between me and my editor, Randy Hagihara, as deadline loomed on a recent day.

Parsons: Would this be a good or bad time to tell you that I have little interest in writing a column today? (1:43 p.m.)

Hagihara: It would be a bad time. (1:44 p.m.)

P: Yeah, but I’m not kidding. (1:45)

H: Neither am I. (1:47)

P: The readers are tired of hearing from me. (1:52)

H: So? (1:54)

P: So, why don’t we give them a break and have no column? (1:56)

H: Just go dark, huh? And do what with that gaping hole down at the bottom of the page? (1:59)

P: That’s all I am to you, isn’t it--someone to fill up a 20-inch hole three times a week? (2:04)

H: You’ve been called worse. (2:06)

P: I’m thinking of doing something on the Bonin execution. (2:23)

H: What are you going to say? (2:25)

P: I don’t know. (2:26)

H: Oh. (2:27)

P: Maybe something about how a lethal injection 14 years after the fact doesn’t really have the feel of an execution. No firing squad. No jolt of electricity. No gas pellets. It’s as if the state hired Dr. Kevorkian. (2:32)

H: You’ve been too much doom and gloom lately. How about something lighter? (2:35)

P: You’re right. I have been. Teen pregnancy. Concealed weapons. Murder. Depression. OK, let’s go light. Got any ideas? (2:38)

H: What were you doing all morning? (2:44)

P: Getting my game face on. (2:45)

H: What does that mean? (2:48)

P: Absolutely nothing. (2:50)

H: How about the start of the baseball season? (2:56)

P: What about it? That’s a cliche. (2:58)

H: That’s never stopped you before. (2:59)

P: I know. I did it last year. (3:01)

H: I can’t keep messaging all day. I have other duties around here. (3:12)

P: OK, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll come up with something. (3:13)

P: Picture a large canister devoid of contents. That is my brain. (4:37)

H: Do I have to do everything? What are you thinking about at this exact second? (4:49)

P: The salmon with pesto sauce in the cafeteria. I had some at lunch. It was excellent. I’m thinking of having it again for dinner. (4:53)

H: OK, write about that. (4:55)

P: Good. Mock me. That always helps. (4:58)

H: Think spring. Think birds and flowers and sunshine. As Bill Shakespeare said . . . (5:09)

P: What did Shakespeare say? (5:13)

H: Hell, I don’t know. He must have said something about it, though. (5:15)

P: Do you think ideas grow on trees? (5:18)

H: How many Pepsis have you had this afternoon? (5:25)

P: Four, maybe. Why? (5:27)

H: Just wondering. Have you considered that they may be affecting your ability to formulate coherent thoughts? (5:30)

P: Hmm. I am a little jumpy. Maybe that’s a column. (5:32)

H: Yeah, right. (5:35)

P: Just to update you, I’m still completely blank. I may have to come in tomorrow to finish this. (6:14)

H: What do you mean, finish? I was under the impression you hadn’t started. (6:18)

P: I’m not a machine, you know. I’m a human being. (6:21)

H: There’s your column. (6:39)

P: What’s my column? (6:40)

H: That you’re not a machine, you’re a human being. (6:43)

P: Oh, could you reply more promptly? I didn’t know what you were talking about. (6:44)

H: Now you know how your readers feel. (6:45)

P: That stung. (6:47)

P: Well, you’ve broken my spirit. I’m going home and will come in tomorrow. Maybe an idea will come to me in a dream. (7:12)

H: Someday, you ought to just keep these messages and do a column on that. (7:16)

P: Yeah, right. (7:18)

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.