I’ve written millions of words for newspapers and magazines and eleven books, and I’ve learned to love the simplicity and directness of the written word. I often tell the probably apocryphal anecdote about the young wannabe reporter in the 1920s at one of the many daily newspapers that flourished then in New York City. Most reporters started out in those days as copyboys just out of high school. After a few months on the job, they would beg to be allowed to write for the paper. One editor finally gave in and assigned a very persistent eighteen-year-old to do the short weather summary that was a staple at the top of the front page. He wrote: “Snow, followed by little boys on sleds.” In the telling to me, the teenager went on to become a famed columnist.
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