I thought a lot and blogged a lot. I traveled to Denver, where I got to talk a lot. I gave birth to my kid nearly a year ago, and when the fog of labor and delivery lifted, I returned to thinking and blogging and talking. But one vital thing was missing: I wasn’t doing a lot. Classes were taken, presentations were attended, but I wasn’t applying what I’d learned. I was book smart, street stupid.

But that’s about to change. Right fucking now.

From this point forward, The Hyperlocalist blog won’t be a retrospective analysis or an experiment conducted in a vacuum. Instead, it will follow the development of my new hyperlocal venture — The Jackson Heights (NY) Herald. This will be an online business plan, a test of whether my ideas and those learned along the way will work in the real world.

Wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

Here’s a confession: I don’t (and can’t) thank my mother enough. During her brief visit last weekend, she spoon fed my seven-month-old while I indulged in a carefree meal. She carried the kid and kept her entertained while I surfed the net. She lulled the baby to sleep so that I can watch the Mets lose yet another game to the Phillies.

My mom said she didn’t mind the work, that it was all part of spoiling the kid. Surely I didn’t mind having time to vegetate on the couch, even if I didn’t agree with some of my mother’s practices. (Anthony Bourdain as children’s television?) Still I appreciated the opportunity to come up for much needed air.

The mental respite from parenthood allowed me to reflect on the value of family, friends and other forms of support. Obviously, love and friendship go a long way to making life good, but they also pay off in a business sense. My mother’s willingness to take on some of the childcare liberated my mind (if only briefly) to consider the details of my next hyperlocal venture. Thank you, Mom!

Other hyperlocal publications are family affairs through and through, with spouses running the newsroom and kids scanning the police radio. My husband volunteered his photography and videography skills to my previous attempt at hyperlocal news. While he did this only occasionally, it was his way of participating in what became a very personal, time-consuming project for me. (Here’s another confession: I don’t [and can't] thank my husband enough.)

But working with relatives and close friends, or relying on them to manage personal matters, can be tricky. Expectations can be unrealistically high, and criticism can come across as harsh. My husband stewed every time I refused to publish raw video that he spent hours compressing and compiling on the computer. And I banged my head against the wall whenever he skipped details like names, locations and dates.

The only way a hyperlocalist can survive that is to accept a loved one’s help with all its perceived imperfections, knowing that it’s offered with best intentions for the business and the personal relationship. My husband wanted to help, so I let him. Instead of recording continuous footage of a news event, I asked him to film short snippets that were more suitable to my web publication. Also, I asked him to take stock photos of buildings and street scenes, which didn’t rely heavily on dateline details and could be used anytime.

Adjusting my expectations allowed me to delegate clearly defined responsibilities to my husband, without worrying about the impact his work would have on my publication’s brand. In the end, his contributions built a photo bank chock full o’ images worthy of republication (and a modest revenue stream). And his videos were a popular item on my site’s YouTube page.

If he volunteers to shoot photos for my future publication, I’d welcome him into the newsroom. And if my mom wants to fatten up my kid while watching the Travel Channel, that’s okay too.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Jon Haynes Photography. This post also appears on my personal blog Question the Wisdom.

I’m off to have my baby! Blog posts will resume on “The Hyperlocalist” in early 2011. In the meantime, you can follow my exploits in “Question the Wisdom: A New Mom in New Media” on Tumblr.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user sean dreilinger.

Summer is generally a slow time in the news business, partly because the big “news makers” like legislators are in recess. But I’ll admit that some of that slowdown comes from apathy and burnout on my end. So while the fat cats are away, The Hyperlocalist shall play!

I spent two weeks putzing around the sweltering Southeast, only to return to a steamy and smelly New York. I cloistered myself in the bedroom, the only room in my apartment with air conditioning, while the computer sat dormant in the stuffy living room. Twitter and email messages went unanswered. Articles accumulated in my RSS reader, only to be flushed away unread.

Instead, I downloaded “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” onto my e-reader. I watched “Days of Our Lives.” I discovered the indoor pool at the local Y. And I watched the Mets piss away yet another season. With the exception of the latter, it was all good.

Perhaps the best thing about unplugging was the realization that I had become too much of a thinker and a talker and not enough of a doer. Twitter and the blogosphere are littered with schmucks like me who yap about potential revenue streams and new technology, but yap isn’t worth a damn without test driving it for oneself. So I’ve gotten back on the entrepreneurial wagon.

First, I set a loose timeline for my new hyperlocal-news publication, one that gives me time to work on my business plan (as well as some personal obligations) while slowly making my company’s presence known in the community. Next, I cracked open an accounting textbook to learn about balance sheets and profit-and-loss (also known as P&L or income) statements. Also, I picked up a few domain names, a Twitter handle, and a clean WordPress theme.

It was about time I moved my ass. And it’s time for other journopreneurs to do the same. Worried that running a news business isn’t the right choice? Feeling uneasy about where and when the money will come? Sweating the big-box competition?

DON’T. Just don’t.

Being an entrepreneur means sticking one’s neck out, knowing well that the ax might fall right on it. Sometimes, one swift blow is enough to send that skull rolling directly into the basket. Other times, it takes a couple of whacks with a dull blade to sever a now-useless appendage from its spinal stem. But for the lucky, that ax misses completely swing after swing, and the execution is stayed.

Admittedly, I’ve got a vulnerable neck, but I’m sticking it out as far as my vertebrae will reach. It’s the only way to know whether I get to keep my head.

Do the same.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Randy Son of Robert.

Most importantly, I learned that traditional journalists have a lot to learn about new media, and new media has a lot to learn about traditional journalism. It’s easy to chalk up this mutual repugnance to arrogance, the “my medium is better than yours” argument. But it’s more complicated than that.

Traditional journalists (those in print and broadcast) turn up their noses at new media because they deem the quality of online content to be sub-par. They’re kinda right. Some producers of online content have displayed a lack of journalistic skill and editorial judgment, an inability to dig up original sources, and a sole purpose to drive page views and thus advertising rates. It’s embarrassing.

At the same time, those in new media brush off traditional journalists for their seemingly backwards view of how information should be presented and consumed. This too has some validity. Too many traditional news outlets have shown they don’t get concepts like transparency through linking, distribution and interaction through online social networks, and constructive discourse through moderated comments. It’s pathetic.

What traditional journalists and new-media producers share is panic over the news industry’s decaying orbit, as well as frustration in their hunt for a working business model.

My solution to this discord and angst is a swift smack to the back of the head. Responsible journalism is doable in the New World Order. Quality reporting has monetary value, but it will take creativity — not complacency or a reliance on the tired, failing advertising model — to cook up sustainable revenue. The public wants and deserves more than entertainment. Twitter and Facebook aren’t disposable time sucks.

Everyone’s got a dog in this race. The problem is, they don’t realize it’s the same damn dog scowling at its own reflection.

As always, the goal of this blog is to explore ways to make that dog stronger, smarter and faster without beating it into the ground or doping it with steroids. I’ll continue those explorations this week and throughout the summer.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Daniel Hoherd.

But it’s important to learn from the experience, and here’s what I learned: I should practice what I preach. In February, I tore into The New York Times from my cyber-soapbox for its plan to have CUNY J-school students run two of its hyperlocal news sites:

[T]he Times-CUNY arrangement smells like the exploitation of a relatively skilled labor force willing to work for nothing more than a byline, exposure and a good grade. Teaching student and citizen journalists that craft and livelihood are incompatible is the wrong lesson. Instead, quality journalism should be rewarded.

It made sense to me then, though it would have made more sense to heed those words. Instead, I let destitution lead me to work for less than peanuts, for a “news” website that offered exposure but actually relied on its writers to deliver an audience.

For two weeks, I saw my page views beat the site’s average three- to fivefold, but the pennies per page view weren’t doing it for me. Meanwhile, I imagined the website’s publisher promoting its higher page views to trump up ad rates and sales, not by pennies but by dollars.

There was also the issue of who my fellow content contributors were. Some of them were topic experts but not the best writers. Others posted press releases, and there’s no telling if they were compensated in other ways for that content.

Frankly, that wasn’t the online company I wanted to keep. So few publications can successfully serve fluffy cotton candy with blood-rare prime rib and make it palatable. Playboy pulled it off back in the day — only The Heff can publish T, A and X in the same issue and make it work. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case with the website for which I wrote.

In the end, I decided it would be better to work for free while developing my strengths (and identifying my weaknesses) as a hyperlocalist. So here I am, back in the saddle again.

I’ve got lots of interesting stuff coming up this week and next, including thoughts on crowd-sourced content, further ideas on news distribution via text message, and the advantages and disadvantages of partnering with a larger media outlet. I’m also taking more cracks at that editorial calendar-as-business plan.

Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Photo by Flicker user Bill Gracey.

Apple is so intent on learning how Chen got his hands on the iPhone prototype that it may have prompted San Mateo County (Calif.) police to seize two computers from Chen’s home office. For his part, Chen admits to buying the prototype for $5,000 from a guy who “found” it in a bar. Now there are questions of whether the investigation violated Chen’s rights under federal and state shield laws, The New York Times reported Tuesday. Who knows.

This kind of reaction from business — arguably harassment — can hit hyperlocalists hard, even if the reaction is on a far smaller scale. It’s at least a distraction from a media outlet’s true function and can be detrimental to business relationships if the harassment escalates to libel or slander.

For instance, I once reviewed a local coffee house for my former hyperlocal website. Admittedly, I tore the place to shreds but wrote nothing that was beyond my rights as a journalist. I understood (and expected) the business’s ire, but I was surprised at how much energy they afforded to shutting me up.

First, they berated me for not supporting a small, locally owned business. (For the record, the company made millions selling its products in retail stores and Costco. I was the sole proprietor of a one-person newsroom operating off my dining table.) Then they threatened a local nonprofit via email with withholding financial support if it didn’t dump my publication as its official media partner. The nonprofit succumbed to the duress.

I also received an email from someone threatening to sue me for taking unauthorized photographs of the people who worked in the coffee shop. Knowing my rights as a journalist quashed that issue quickly, but it was still frustrating and time consuming to explain this to the email’s author.

In the end, the review remained posted on the internet, I remained unapologetic, and the company relocated its coffee house to a neighboring town.

The take-home lesson to all of this: Hyperlocalists should know their rights as journalists and publishers. That’s what they are to their communities, and they should exercise their rights under existing media and shield laws to defend the service they provide. Knowing these rights can protect an outlet’s business from frivolous lawsuits and defend it from libel.

It doesn’t matter whether that knock on the door is Steve Jobs or Juan Valdez. Be prepared to answer it.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user ryoichitanaka.

I was surprised when, within hours of my article going live, a slew of nasty comments appeared below it in the area reserved for readers to respond.

“You should consider not having any more babies.”

“I feel sorry for her son. Can you imagine going through life with this woman?”

Not every comment was negative. Some were sympathetic, supportive, even touching. But the mean ones — yikes — were they mean.

She explained that the intent of her Times post was not to express how hurt she felt. Instead, she wished to explore “why online commenters are so gratuitously nasty; why, when given the opportunity to have an educated disagreement with an author or other readers, they use the space allotted to spew venom instead of presenting a well-reasoned argument,” she wrote.

But not all venom is meant to be poisonous. Not all “gratuitously nasty” comments are meant to be gratuitous or nasty.

Writers benefit from the skill and gift of being able to crystalize fuzzy thoughts and emotions into succinct words, and a writer who can do that about something as personal as post-traumatic stress after childbirth is probably more skilled and gifted (and experienced) than most. Consider it a blessing when trying to explain complex concepts.

It’s a curse when all that emotional energy is confronted with the dull, blunt force of readers who may not be as graceful with their words. Pity, concern, sarcasm and humor aren’t always conveyed easily by experienced writers, and even less so by those who don’t write for a living. The inflection that readers hear in their own voices, and the emotion they feel in their own hearts, don’t always come across in their written words.

That’s not to say that “gratuitously nasty” comments don’t exist — of course they do. Some axes won’t be denied a grinding. But writers must develop thick skins when the criticism crashes down on them. If the writing is accurate and, in the case of Brodesser-Akner, if it’s emotionally truthful, then the writer has fulfilled her or his obligation to the reader. The writer may choose to respond to comments or blow them off by choice.

Reader comments can be harsh and sometimes hurtful. Suck it up and move on.

The first step in that process (for me, anyway) is to map out the kind of editorial content I want to generate. Should I aim for general hyperlocal news or niche stories? What’s the best way to present that content in terms of editorial voice, tone and structure? How should I structure my editorial calendar?

Question number two is the whopper, the one that will either set things in motion or quash them for good: Is there a need for this kind of content? Would I be duplicating the work of others, or do I have a new and distinct product to offer? This is when all the research and corporate espionage happens, the endless hours of scouring the internet to learn how others have succeeded and failed.

If my concept passes the muster of questions one and two, the next issue to tackle is funding. As mentioned previously, I’m shit broke. So should I take on full-time work until I have enough capital saved for this new venture, or should I seek donors as a nonprofit media outlet?

Decisions, decisions! But that’s how things roll in Hyperlocal Land. The thinking never stops. Trial and error becomes a lifestyle. Failure is always a viable option, as long as one learns to succeed from it. Seriously.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Dena Flows.

There have been a couple of things lately to remind me that the more things change, the more they stay the same. First, there’s my new-found fascination for rock band Cage the Elephant, a crew of twenty-somethings who crank out the dirty blues like Led Zeppelin did back in the day.

Next is a New York Times article on Victorian-era postal service. In those days, people mailed whole newspapers as a way of sharing current events without having to compose anything original. It was social networking before the advent of the Super Poke or the fail whale.

Finally (and most relevant to this blog) is this Times profile of Paul Smalera, a 29-year-old former print journalist who’s had to hustle, self-promote and network to earn his daily bread in the freelance world. The article, written by Smalera’s former colleague at Condé Nast, laments the loss of steady-paying journalism gigs and the even greater loss of youthful idealism:

“Assessing his next move, [Smalera] knew that magazines and newspapers were not options — they were almost all shedding staff, and people with far more experience than he had were looking for work. ‘The Web was the only place I was going to go,’ he said. ‘I decided that without the heft of a big print magazine pushing my work out there that I needed to push it out there myself, and make sure that people who might be interested saw it.’ He entered the sea of tiny cutout heads broadcasting thoughts and opinions all day online. He tweets; he has an e-mail list; he posts links to his articles.”

Well, here’s a newsflash for Smalera and (more importantly) Sheelah Kolhatkar, who wrote the article: Get used to this kind of life. Entrepreneurs have been doing the hustle forever, with no expectation of healthcare, dental coverage or a 401(k). Now mainstream journalists, long sheltered from the bottom line, must do the same if they plan to eat and keep a roof over their heads.

I won’t begrudge new entrepreneurs their learning curve — I’m still trying to get over mine. But this mourning for the loss of traditional journalism jobs must stop. That game ended years ago, and all the whining and technological innovation in the world isn’t going to bring it back.

Of course, not everyone is cut out to be an entrepreneur, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But without a monumental shift in how mainstream media operates, an entrepreneurial mindset is the only thing that will keep reporters and journalists from fading into unemployed oblivion.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Stephen Poff.