Louisville Journalism conference, Part I

Hello, writing fans! I wasn’t able to sit down and write yesterday, but I have about an hour from now until the next lecture, so we’ll see what’s what.

Three of our “senior” editorial staff and three “new” writers are here in Louisville, KY for a journalistic conference, and let me tell you, it’s fantastic! Our senior advisor never told us to specifically attend any of the lectures, so we’ve each looked through the lists to find what we want to learn. I have taken extensive notes, and will be sharing them in the next few posts (one post per lecture, I think).

This conference is helping me to understand why I love journalism and why I want to be a writer. I talked yesterday to a representative of the Indiana University School of Journalism, and asked about the program they have. I’ve heard many good things about the school and am considering looking into the curriculum for grad school options. This idea is still in the oven, however, as I have no money and I’m about to be married.

I’ve met student journalists from all across the country, and have heard and shared editorial stories with them. I’m sitting now in the walkway, an enclosed structure connecting the (ritzy) hotel (the Galt House) to the conference house (The Revue House). I’m right over the street, and cars are driving under me. Students with cameras stop every now and then in the walkway to take photographs of the general hubbub, and the architecture. Workers are building a gazebo in the walkway with loud tools right next to me (of course, this was the only empty seat). I rather enjoy the busy and excited atmosphere. Everyone is walking around, either weaving through the crowd to find their next lecture, or milling about, talking to other students.

This has been very beneficial to me, I think, attending a conference of this nature. I’m trying to set an example for my writers by choosing conferences that can potentially grow me.

Side note: there’s a guy student sitting in the couch across from me, waiting for a friend. Now she’s talking to him intermittently; I am at a loss to discover how they can hear each other over the electric hammer gun. Okay, they’re leaving now. Better for the conversation anyway…

It’s 3 p.m.! I will start writing about the conferences now.


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