New York Times executive editor Dean Baquet has sent staffers a memo announcing a fairly major overhaul, including cuts in the newsroom and elsewhere: “Simply put, we keep turning things on—greater visual journalism, live news blogs, faster enterprise, podcasting, racing against an ever-growing list of new competitors on an expanding list of stories—without ever turning things off,” he writes. From now on, “everything we do must either be part of [our] mission or help generate the revenue to sustain our journalistic dominance.” The Awl has a bracing graph of the Times’s revenue relative to its operating costs over the past decade, and notes that “between this and Condé Nast and Hearst spinning off their print services into an easily disposable joint venture, sounds like 2016 is off to a great start for print media!”
This week, the Serial podcast has leapt from a leisurely bi-weekly schedule to daily updates, as Sarah Koenig attends a hearing in Baltimore at which Adnan Syed’s lawyer is using new evidence to argue that his murder conviction should be overturned. Today’s episode follows the testimony of Asia McClain, a potential alibi for Syed who was never called to testify at his original trial.
We’ve always said that editing was important, and now look: The drama of the presidential primaries is being played out partly on Wikipedia.
Gawker has a piece on what you might call the personal essay–industrial complex, and more specifically, a quite striking “identity survey” that the women’s website Bustle apparently sends to its new writers, which includes detailed questions about mental and physical health, family relationships, sexual history, drug use, and experiences of abuse or assault.
Remember hypertext fiction, and that moment when it seemed as if it might threaten the printed book? Now it seems some brave souls are giving that another go, creating experimental digital fiction for anyone who feels they’re not getting enough quality time with their phone.
Book reviewers have always had a good line in backhanded compliments, but this piece, congratulating its subject on his derring-do in writing a novel so much worse than his previous fiction, may set a new record.