As far as I can tell my early involvement in theatrical productions, mainly as part of the audience rather than taking an active part, are linked to Wrexham, a place I have never lived. Mind you my first appearance in public saw me in the starring role with members of my family in the supportingContinue reading “Early debut with not a word spoken”
Category Archives: My blog
Fun and games at the seaside
I settled into the Rhyl Journal offices quite quickly as the rest of the editorial team were a friendly bunch. Mind you the working move to Rhyl was very quickly followed by another move – except this was a very short trip. When NWN bought out the Journal the red-brick building on Russell Road housedContinue reading “Fun and games at the seaside”
Getting back on the right track
Dear friends and readers – sorry that the blog part of this post has been somewhat erratic in recent weeks. I have been keeping up with the poetry each day because I believe it would be discourteous to leave a void for those who visit daily. This covid19 has been tragic for so many evenContinue reading “Getting back on the right track”
Start from scratch to stay in touch
In the early years, when a young journalist is still in training, where they first work can make a great deal of difference. I was raised in a large, busy, seaside town where my father was a businessman and one way or another I knew a good many of the people in Rhyl – theContinue reading “Start from scratch to stay in touch”
From copy boy to the editor’s chair (if you’re lucky)
Training in journalism before the 1950s was based mainly on luck. Getting a job at a newspaper, for instance, could be pure chance. After all publishers did not have a permanent post available for any or every bright young spark who popped into the editor’s office. You had a better chance if you lived inContinue reading “From copy boy to the editor’s chair (if you’re lucky)”
The last days of real journalism
Q. What links Friday; a war over eggs; and coffee? A. The (ig)noble art of journalism. Daniel Defoe, who gave us the tale of Robinson Crusoe, the sailor marooned on a deserted island with only a single companion – Man Friday, was the first well-known journalist. He was also a spy, a pamphleteer, a traderContinue reading “The last days of real journalism”
1969 – a year of great happenings
A lot of things happened in 1969: The Beatles made their last live appearance — on a rooftop; They also released their 11th studio album — Abbey Road; Brian Jones quit the Rolling Stones and less than a month later was found dead in his swimming pool; Michael Caine starred in the British film TheContinue reading “1969 – a year of great happenings”
Changing places — changing faces
There was more in changing my place of work to Rhyl from Holywell than just being able to have a lie-in or go home for lunch. Obviously I was working with new people and they were ones I could learn a lot from. I was also meeting new people and old friends when it cameContinue reading “Changing places — changing faces”
Better watch out if Rupert’s about
When I was working in Australia in the late 70s early 80s there was a joke doing the rounds about Rupert Murdoch – a joke which had an undertone of reality. “Rupert Murdoch arrived in (insert town or city name) and booked into a hotel. The following morning he sent his secretary out to buyContinue reading “Better watch out if Rupert’s about”
Finding my place within the pack
There are hierarchies within journalism and the cub reporter, like the wolf cub, is at the bottom of the pack. Above this you get a junior reporter, then a senior, then a chief reporter. Sometimes the chief reporter might also be the deputy editor – then you get the head honcho, the editor. Somewhere inContinue reading “Finding my place within the pack”
Robin's Nest 