I'm baaaaack. Sorry for the hiatus, podcast listeners—play on for a brief update on where I've been.Today I'm talking to <a target="_blank" href="https://twitter.com/dawnkissi?lang=en">Dawn Kissi,</a> a one-two punch of a journalist with tons of experience at places like ABC News, Women's Wear Daily, CNN, and The Wall Street Journal, and the founder of Emerging Market Media, which publishes <a target="_blank" href="https://em-views.com/">Emerging Market Views.</a> Dawn has reported extensively on finance and markets, and she talks to me about how she started covering subjects that, for many of us, seem really intimidating. Dawn gives us the breakdown of how she made each of her career moves and how she decided to go to Columbia graduate school, plus she runs down how she started her business. I ask her how she deals when feeling so curious and inspired with a number of different projects you feel like you could lose focus (hi). Oh, and Dawn drops one of my favorite surprises ever—"This is a twist...I ended up in the Middle East."Listen below, or subscribe in <a target="_blank" href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/life-tk/id1263727697">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a target="_blank" href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/amanda-woytus-life-tk-podcast/life-tk">Stitcher.</a>This episode was produced by <a target="_blank" href="https://www.erinmckinstry.com/">Erin McKinstry.</a> Our music, from <a target="_blank" href="https://sessions.blue/">Blue Dot Sessions,</a> is called The Zeppelin and Titter Snowbird. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts.

<description>I'm baaaaack. Sorry for the hiatus, podcast listeners—play on for a brief update on where I've been.

Today I'm talking to Dawn Kissi, a one-two punch of a journalist with tons of experience at places like ABC News, Women's Wear Daily, CNN, and The Wall Street Journal, and the founder of Emerging Market Media, which publishes Emerging Market Views. Dawn has reported extensively on finance and markets, and she talks to me about how she started covering subjects that, for many of us, seem really intimidating. Dawn gives us the breakdown of how she made each of her career moves and how she decided to go to Columbia graduate school, plus she gives us the rundown of how she started her business. I ask her how she deals when feeling so curious and inspired with a number of different projects you feel like you could lose focus (hi). Oh, and Dawn drops one of my favorite surprises ever—"This is a twist...I ended up in the Middle East."

Subscribe in Apple Podcasts or Stitcher.

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin and Titter Snowbird. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.</description>

Dawn Kissi on Life TK

I'm baaaaack. Sorry for the hiatus, podcast listeners—play on for a brief update on where I've been.

Today I'm talking to Dawn Kissi, a one-two punch of a journalist with tons of experience at places like ABC News, Women's Wear Daily, CNN, and The Wall Street Journal, and the founder of Emerging Market Media, which publishes Emerging Market Views. Dawn has reported extensively on finance and markets, and she talks to me about how she started covering subjects that, for many of us, seem really intimidating. Dawn gives us the breakdown of how she made each of her career moves and how she decided to go to Columbia graduate school, plus she gives us the rundown of how she started her business. I ask her how she deals when feeling so curious and inspired with a number of different projects you feel like you could lose focus (hi). Oh, and Dawn drops one of my favorite surprises ever—"This is a twist...I ended up in the Middle East."

Subscribe in Apple Podcasts or Stitcher.

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin and Titter Snowbird. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.

19 / Take a Risk

When editor of <a target="_blank" href="https://www.fastcompany.com/">FastCompany.com</a>&nbsp;<a target="_blank" href="https://twitter.com/hellomountfuji?lang=en">Anjali Khosla</a> was in her late twenties, she was finishing up an MFA and contemplating starting another, this time in animation and film (she was really into making rudimentary stop-motion videos inspired by high-minded concepts like Gilgamesh). She happened to apply to the <a target="_blank" href="https://journalism.nyu.edu/graduate/programs/studio-20-digital-first/">Studio 20 program</a> at New York University, even though, she admits, she was never a big fan of the media. Inspired by the citizen journalism that was popping up around 2008 (and at the urging of her dad, who told her to check it out), Anjali ended up going.During one class, the executive editor of the New York Daily News came to Anjali's class to give a talk. Even though she wasn't familiar with the Daily News, she got his card, studied what the paper was doing on social media, and wrote to him. This was before papers had social media editors, but Anjali pitched herself anyway—and they let her join the team as a consultant.I asked Anjali if she was scared to put herself out there like that. It was nervous-making, yes, but she knew she had to get a job in journalism. Plus, "a little bit of fear can be pretty healthy if the fear is driven by yourself and not by other people," she told me. She worked at the Daily News full-time for six months while going to school because she wanted to be brought on permanently...and she was.Anjali and I also talk in this episode about how important it is to keep learning at your job and to ask for the raise you want—don't lowball yourself, and don't unnecessarily justify it. Plus: Just how hard is it to get a journalism job if you don't have an "in"? Pretty hard—and that's why it's up to managers to go outside of referrals and read applications, especially if they want to diversify their offices. Listen below, or subscribe in <a target="_blank" href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/life-tk/id1263727697">Apple Podcasts </a>or <a target="_blank" href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/amanda-woytus-life-tk-podcast/life-tk">Stitcher.</a>This episode was produced by <a href="https://www.erinmckinstry.com/">Erin McKinstry.</a> Our music, from <a href="https://sessions.blue/">Blue Dot Sessions,</a> is called The Zeppelin and Sunday Lights. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts.

<description>When editor of FastCompany.com Anjali Khosla was in her late twenties, she was finishing up an MFA and contemplating starting another, this time in animation in film (she was really into making rudimentary stop-motion videos inspired by high-minded concepts like Gilgamesh). She happened to apply to the Studio 20 program at New York University, even though, she admits, she was never a big fan of the media. Inspired by the citizen journalism popping up around 2008 (and at the urging of her dad, who encouraged her to check it out), Anjali ended up going.

During one class, the executive editor of the New York Daily News came to Anjali's class to give a talk. Even though she wasn't familiar with the Daily News, she got his card, studied what the paper was doing on social media, and wrote to him. This was before the invention of the role of social media editor, but Anjali pitched herself anyway—and they let her join the team as a consultant.

I asked Anjali if she was scared to put herself out there like that. It was nervous-making, yes, but she knew she had to get a job in journalism. Plus, "a little bit of fear can be pretty healthy if the fear is driven by yourself and not by other people," she told me. She worked at the Daily News full-time for six months while going to school because she wanted to be brought on permanently...and she was.

Anjali and I also talk in this episode about how important it is to keep learning at your job and to ask for the raise you want—don't lowball yourself, and don't unnecessarily justify it. Plus: Just how hard is it to get a journalism job if you don't have an "in"? Pretty hard—and that's bad if you want to diversify your office. 

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin and Sunday Lights. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.</description>

Anjali Khosla on Life TK

When editor of FastCompany.com Anjali Khosla was in her late twenties, she was finishing up an MFA and contemplating starting another, this time in animation in film (she was really into making rudimentary stop-motion videos inspired by high-minded concepts like Gilgamesh). She happened to apply to the Studio 20 program at New York University, even though, she admits, she was never a big fan of the media. Inspired by the citizen journalism popping up around 2008 (and at the urging of her dad, who encouraged her to check it out), Anjali ended up going.

During one class, the executive editor of the New York Daily News came to Anjali's class to give a talk. Even though she wasn't familiar with the Daily News, she got his card, studied what the paper was doing on social media, and wrote to him. This was before the invention of the role of social media editor, but Anjali pitched herself anyway—and they let her join the team as a consultant.

I asked Anjali if she was scared to put herself out there like that. It was nervous-making, yes, but she knew she had to get a job in journalism. Plus, "a little bit of fear can be pretty healthy if the fear is driven by yourself and not by other people," she told me. She worked at the Daily News full-time for six months while going to school because she wanted to be brought on permanently...and she was.

Anjali and I also talk in this episode about how important it is to keep learning at your job and to ask for the raise you want—don't lowball yourself, and don't unnecessarily justify it. Plus: Just how hard is it to get a journalism job if you don't have an "in"? Pretty hard—and that's bad if you want to diversify your office. 

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin and Sunday Lights. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.

18 / Ask for What You Want

How much does the Life TK audience know about being a professional dominatrix? That was one of the first questions my interviewee—the remarkable <a target="_blank" href="http://melissafebos.com/about/">Melissa Febos</a>—had for me when we recorded today's episode. I don't have that data, unfortunately, but it's a fair question because Melissa is the author of the amazing memoir <a target="_blank" href="https://www.amazon.com/Whip-Smart-A-Memoir/dp/B004A14WAO">Whip Smart,</a> about the time in her twenties she spent as a college student and professional dom, one of the best books I read last year. Whip Smart is about so much more than the world of domming; it's about power, desire, control, and Melissa's struggle with drug addiction. Get it. Read it. Love it.Also one of the best books I read last year: Melissa's powerhouse essay collection <a target="_blank" href="https://www.amazon.com/Abandon-Me-Memoirs-Melissa-Febos/dp/1632866579">Abandon Me,</a> which chronicles an emotional, intimate, fraught long-distance relationship she had with a lover, and her reconnection to her birth father. Abandon Me was named one of the best books of 2017 by Esquire, Refinery29, BookRiot, Electric Literature, The Cut, and more, and The New Yorker said that the "sheer fearlessness of the narrative is captivating." What I love about Abandon Me is not only does the subject matter invoke this incredible feeling of vulnerability, but also Melissa is a master of form. A lot of the essays are braided and the prose is amazing, dipping into religion, psychology, mythology, popular culture—this is a book that will turn you inside out emotionally and intellectually, and leave you wanting more.So here's some more: Today Melissa and I are talking about the process of writing, how Whip Smart poured out of her—and how Abandon Me was different. Whip Smart started as a five-page memoir assignment for a nonfiction survey class, and when Melissa handed in hers, about her first session as a dom, her professor recognized she was on to something. Melissa was told to drop everything and write this book. "Anyone who finds the work they are called to do will recognize this feeling," she told me. "When I started writing that story, it just—it was writing me. It just came out. It wasn't easy, but there was an engine in me for it, and the story wanted to be told."If you're wondering, like I did, whether Abandon Me felt just as urgent to write, it did—but it was different because Melissa was still living through some of the experiences she was writing about. She didn't know how the book was going to turn out because she wasn't sure, well, what she was writing to. "I just knew I had to examine it in order to move through it," she said.As I often do on Life TK, I asked the million-dollar question: Did Melissa ever feel like giving up? Here's what she told me: "Oh God, I felt like giving up yesterday. It's so lonely sometimes. I can't really speak for other kinds of writers, but because I'm writing memoir or work based on my personal experience, I spend a lot of time alone, re-living and examining the most painful, sort of incoherent parts of my experience. Which is a lot. It's not required. It's not even recommended for a lot of people. It's really painful. I have often wanted to give up. ... In my early twenties, when I had graduated college and I wasn't writing and I wasn't reading and I was an active drug addict working as a dominatrix, I was like, 'I feel so far from the life that I thought I'd be living, and from the person I am.'"But how did she get through it? By getting quiet, she told me, and listening to the inner wisdom that's underneath the fear we all experience. "For me, even in those times when I felt incredibly hopeless, far from where I needed to be, if I got really quiet, I could hear it. It's like those moments when I was like, 'You have to get clean.' 'You have to quit this job.'"One of my favorite parts of Whip Smart is when Melissa, wanting to use her degree, takes a break from domming and starts a new job working in editorial...and it blows, so she quits. You know I'm the A-number-one fan of hanging in there, but Melissa's confidence made me think twice about my "no quitting" policy. We talk about how she knew that job wasn't the right fit, and what she did after she left (dog walking, assistant to a really rich lady).And finally, I ask Melissa for her advice for Life TK listeners. Keep going, and call yourself a writer even if you don't write for a living. "Tell people about your work, even if your heart is broken out of rejection, send it back out again," she said. "It doesn't feel good, it feels like the wrong thing to do, but we have to do it anyway." Listen below, or subscribe in <a target="_blank" href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/life-tk/id1263727697">Apple Podcasts </a>or <a target="_blank" href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/amanda-woytus-life-tk-podcast/life-tk">Stitcher.</a>This episode was produced by <a href="https://www.erinmckinstry.com/">Erin McKinstry.</a> Our music, from <a href="https://sessions.blue/">Blue Dot Sessions,</a> is called The Zeppelin, Drifting Spade, and Vulcan Street. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts.

<description>How much does the Life TK audience know about being a professional dominatrix? That was one of the first questions my interviewee—the remarkable Melissa Febos—had for me when we recorded today's episode. I don't have that data, unfortunately, but it's a fair question because Melissa is the author of the amazing memoir Whip Smart, about the time in her twenties she spent as a college student and professional dom, one of the best books I read last year. Whip Smart is about so much more than the world of domming; it's about power, desire, control, and Melissa's struggle with drug addiction. Get it. Read it. Love it. 

Also one of the best books I read last year: Melissa's powerhouse essay collection Abandon Me, which chronicles an emotional, intimate, fraught long-distance relationship she had with a lover, and her reconnection to her birth father. Abandon Me was named one of the best books of 2017 by Esquire, Refinery29, BookRiot, Electric Literature, The Cut, and more, and The New Yorker said that the "sheer fearlessness of the narrative is captivating." What I love about Abandon Me is not only does the subject matter invoke this incredible feeling of vulnerability, but also Melissa is a master of form. A lot of the essays are braided and the prose is amazing, dipping into religion, psychology, mythology, popular culture—this is a book that will turn you inside out emotionally and intellectually, and leave you wanting more.

So here's some more: Today Melissa and I are talking about the process of writing, how Whip Smart poured out of her—and how Abandon Me was different. Whip Smart started as a five-page memoir assignment for a nonfiction survey class, and when Melissa handed in hers, about her first session as a dom, her professor recognized she was on to something. Melissa was told to drop everything and write this book. "Anyone who finds the work they are called to do will recognize this feeling," she told me. "When I started writing that story, it just—it was writing me. It just came out. It wasn't easy, but there was an engine in me for it, and the story wanted to be told."

If you're wondering, like I did, whether Abandon Me felt just as urgent to write, it did—but it was different because Melissa was still living through some of the experiences she was writing about. She didn't know how the book was going to turn out because she wasn't sure, well, what she was writing to. "I just knew I had to examine it in order to move through it," she said.

As I often do on Life TK, I asked the million-dollar question: Did Melissa ever feel like giving up? Here's what she told me:

"Oh God, I felt like giving up yesterday. It's so lonely sometimes. I can't really speak for other kinds of writers, but because I'm writing memoir or work based on my personal experience, I spend a lot of time alone, re-living and examining the most painful, sort of incoherent parts of my experience. Which is a lot. It's not required. It's not even recommended for a lot of people. It's really painful. I have often wanted to give up. ... In my early twenties, when I had graduated college and I wasn't writing and I wasn't reading and I was an active drug addict working as a dominatrix, I was like, 'I feel so far from the life that I thought I'd be living, and from the person I am.'"

But how did she get through it? By getting quiet, she told me, and listening to the inner wisdom that's underneath the fear we all experience. "For me, even in those times when I felt incredibly hopeless, far from where I needed to be, if I got really quiet, I could hear it. It's like those moments when I was like, 'You have to get clean.' 'You have to quit this job.'"

Speaking of, one of my favorite parts of Whip Smart is when Melissa, wanting to use her degree, takes a break from domming and starts a new job working in editorial...and it blows, so she quits. You know I'm the A-number-one fan of hanging in there, but Melissa's confidence made me think twice about my "no quitting" policy. We talk about how she knew that job wasn't the right fit, and what she did after she left (dog walking, assistant to a really rich lady).

And finally, I ask Melissa for her advice for Life TK listeners. Keep going, and call yourself a writer even if you don't write for a living (which most of us don't, btw). "Tell people about your work, even if your heart is broken out of rejection, send it back out again," she said. "It doesn't feel good, it feels like the wrong thing to do, but we have to do it anyway."

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin, Drifting Spade, and Vulcan Street. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.

</description>

Melissa Febos on Life TK

How much does the Life TK audience know about being a professional dominatrix? That was one of the first questions my interviewee—the remarkable Melissa Febos—had for me when we recorded today's episode. I don't have that data, unfortunately, but it's a fair question because Melissa is the author of the amazing memoir Whip Smart, about the time in her twenties she spent as a college student and professional dom, one of the best books I read last year. Whip Smart is about so much more than the world of domming; it's about power, desire, control, and Melissa's struggle with drug addiction. Get it. Read it. Love it. 

Also one of the best books I read last year: Melissa's powerhouse essay collection Abandon Me, which chronicles an emotional, intimate, fraught long-distance relationship she had with a lover, and her reconnection to her birth father. Abandon Me was named one of the best books of 2017 by Esquire, Refinery29, BookRiot, Electric Literature, The Cut, and more, and The New Yorker said that the "sheer fearlessness of the narrative is captivating." What I love about Abandon Me is not only does the subject matter invoke this incredible feeling of vulnerability, but also Melissa is a master of form. A lot of the essays are braided and the prose is amazing, dipping into religion, psychology, mythology, popular culture—this is a book that will turn you inside out emotionally and intellectually, and leave you wanting more.

So here's some more: Today Melissa and I are talking about the process of writing, how Whip Smart poured out of her—and how Abandon Me was different. Whip Smart started as a five-page memoir assignment for a nonfiction survey class, and when Melissa handed in hers, about her first session as a dom, her professor recognized she was on to something. Melissa was told to drop everything and write this book. "Anyone who finds the work they are called to do will recognize this feeling," she told me. "When I started writing that story, it just—it was writing me. It just came out. It wasn't easy, but there was an engine in me for it, and the story wanted to be told."

If you're wondering, like I did, whether Abandon Me felt just as urgent to write, it did—but it was different because Melissa was still living through some of the experiences she was writing about. She didn't know how the book was going to turn out because she wasn't sure, well, what she was writing to. "I just knew I had to examine it in order to move through it," she said.

As I often do on Life TK, I asked the million-dollar question: Did Melissa ever feel like giving up? Here's what she told me:

"Oh God, I felt like giving up yesterday. It's so lonely sometimes. I can't really speak for other kinds of writers, but because I'm writing memoir or work based on my personal experience, I spend a lot of time alone, re-living and examining the most painful, sort of incoherent parts of my experience. Which is a lot. It's not required. It's not even recommended for a lot of people. It's really painful. I have often wanted to give up. ... In my early twenties, when I had graduated college and I wasn't writing and I wasn't reading and I was an active drug addict working as a dominatrix, I was like, 'I feel so far from the life that I thought I'd be living, and from the person I am.'"

But how did she get through it? By getting quiet, she told me, and listening to the inner wisdom that's underneath the fear we all experience. "For me, even in those times when I felt incredibly hopeless, far from where I needed to be, if I got really quiet, I could hear it. It's like those moments when I was like, 'You have to get clean.' 'You have to quit this job.'"

Speaking of, one of my favorite parts of Whip Smart is when Melissa, wanting to use her degree, takes a break from domming and starts a new job working in editorial...and it blows, so she quits. You know I'm the A-number-one fan of hanging in there, but Melissa's confidence made me think twice about my "no quitting" policy. We talk about how she knew that job wasn't the right fit, and what she did after she left (dog walking, assistant to a really rich lady).

And finally, I ask Melissa for her advice for Life TK listeners. Keep going, and call yourself a writer even if you don't write for a living (which most of us don't, btw). "Tell people about your work, even if your heart is broken out of rejection, send it back out again," she said. "It doesn't feel good, it feels like the wrong thing to do, but we have to do it anyway."

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin, Drifting Spade, and Vulcan Street. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.



17 / Call Yourself a Writer

A first for Life TK—we're dipping into engagement this week with <a target="_blank" href="https://twitter.com/rubinafillion?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor">Rubina Madan Fillion,</a> the director of audience engagement at <a target="_blank" href="https://theintercept.com/">The Intercept.</a> There, Rubina runs social media; works on SEO, analytics, newsletters, membership, and more; and is charged with not only growing the number of people who are engaging with The Intercept but also making its content more shareable.Rubina pretty much always knew she wanted to be a journalist, but it took her a little while to figure out just what type of journalist she was going to be. After a couple of impressive internships, she landed a job as an education reporter at a small newspaper in Georgia—but it didn't feel quite right. She didn't like the daily grind of churning out words and words and words, and was more interested in alternative storytelling. "When I was reporting in Georgia," she says, "I read the book called Quarterlife Crisis, and I was convinced I was going through one because I could not figure things out. I was so unhappy, but I couldn't really figure out why. I knew I needed to leave my job." Sound familiar? Listen here for Rubina's surprising anecdote about which Comedy Central TV show inspired her to get a master's degree from Columbia University's journalism school.Once at Columbia, Rubina took a graphics class—alternative storytelling!—that set her on the path to the career she has now. Her professor liked her final project so much that she asked Rubina if she'd be interested in freelancing for the graphics department of The New. York. Times.But before she ended up at the Times, Rubina faced another career challenge. She interned at the Associated Press and hoped for a job there...but they weren't hiring. However, it only freed her up to permalance at the Times, which led to a full-time job at The Wall Street Journal, where she spent most of her twenties.I assumed that someone who ticked off the New York Times and WSJ boxes—places where journalists dream of working—before turning 30 must have had an intense vision board, but that wasn't necessarily the case for Rubina, and she lets me in on the perk of not making a five-year plan. "If I had a five-year plan, I would have always been a little bit unhappy with what I was doing then, and thinking about what I would do in the future," she says. "Whereas I feel like for most of my life and most of my career, I've been really appreciative of what I have and been able to go with the flow with whatever the next step would be."In this episode, Rubina also talks about the toughest career decision she ever made: leaving her job at WSJ, a place so comfortable it felt like home, for one at The Intercept...when she was five months' pregnant. Job uncertainty—my favorite subject, and I share a little bit on this, too. Oh, but one happy update: My job situation is not as precarious now as it was at the time of this recording, and, in fact, things are improving for me. This is journalism, folks. Listen below, or subscribe in <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/life-tk/id1263727697">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/amanda-woytus-life-tk-podcast/life-tk?refid=stpr">Stitcher.</a>This episode was produced by <a href="https://www.erinmckinstry.com/">Erin McKinstry.</a> Our music, from <a href="https://sessions.blue/">Blue Dot Sessions,</a> is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts.

<description>A first for Life TK—we're dipping into engagement this week with Rubina Madan Fillion, the director of audience engagement at The Intercept. There, Rubina runs social media; works on SEO, analytics, newsletters, membership, and more; and is charged with not only growing the number of people who are engaging with The Intercept but also making its content more shareable.

Rubina pretty much always knew she wanted to be a journalist, but it took her a little while to figure out just what type of journalist she was going to be. After a couple of impressive internships, she landed a job as an education reporter at a small newspaper in Georgia—but it didn't feel quite right. She didn't like the daily grind of churning out words and words and words, and was more interested in alternative storytelling. "When I was reporting in Georgia," she says, "I read the book called Quarterlife Crisis, and I was convinced I was going through one because I could not figure things out. I was so unhappy, but I couldn't really figure out why. I knew I needed to leave my job." Sound familiar? Listen here for Rubina's surprising anecdote about which Comedy Central TV show inspired her to get a master's degree from Columbia University's journalism school.

Once at Columbia, Rubina took a graphics class—alternative storytelling!—that set her on the path to the career she has now. Her professor liked her final project so much that she asked Rubina if she'd be interested in freelancing for the graphics department of The New. York. Times.

But before she ended up at the Times, Rubina faced another career challenge. She interned at the Associated Press and hoped for a job there...but they weren't hiring. However, it only freed her up to permalance at the Times, which led to a full-time job at The Wall Street Journal, where she spent most of her twenties.

I assumed that someone who ticked off the New York Times and WSJ boxes—places where journalists dream of working—before turning 30 must have had an intense vision board, but that wasn't necessarily the case for Rubina, and she lets me in on the perk of not making a five-year plan. "If I had a five-year plan, I would have always been a little bit unhappy with what I was doing then, and thinking about what I would do in the future," she says. "Whereas I feel like for most of my life and most of my career, I've been really appreciative of what I have and been able to go with the flow with whatever the next step would be."

In this episode, Rubina also talks about the toughest career decision she ever made: leaving her job at WSJ, a place so comfortable it felt like home, for one at The Intercept...when she was five months' pregnant. Job uncertainty—my favorite subject, and I share a little bit on this, too. Oh, but one happy update: My job situation is not as precarious now as it was at the time of this recording, and, in fact, things are improving for me. This is journalism, folks.

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.
 </description>

Rubina Madan Fillion on Life TK

A first for Life TK—we're dipping into engagement this week with Rubina Madan Fillion, the director of audience engagement at The Intercept. There, Rubina runs social media; works on SEO, analytics, newsletters, membership, and more; and is charged with not only growing the number of people who are engaging with The Intercept but also making its content more shareable.

Rubina pretty much always knew she wanted to be a journalist, but it took her a little while to figure out just what type of journalist she was going to be. After a couple of impressive internships, she landed a job as an education reporter at a small newspaper in Georgia—but it didn't feel quite right. She didn't like the daily grind of churning out words and words and words, and was more interested in alternative storytelling. "When I was reporting in Georgia," she says, "I read the book called Quarterlife Crisis, and I was convinced I was going through one because I could not figure things out. I was so unhappy, but I couldn't really figure out why. I knew I needed to leave my job." Sound familiar? Listen here for Rubina's surprising anecdote about which Comedy Central TV show inspired her to get a master's degree from Columbia University's journalism school.

Once at Columbia, Rubina took a graphics class—alternative storytelling!—that set her on the path to the career she has now. Her professor liked her final project so much that she asked Rubina if she'd be interested in freelancing for the graphics department of The New. York. Times.

But before she ended up at the Times, Rubina faced another career challenge. She interned at the Associated Press and hoped for a job there...but they weren't hiring. However, it only freed her up to permalance at the Times, which led to a full-time job at The Wall Street Journal, where she spent most of her twenties.

I assumed that someone who ticked off the New York Times and WSJ boxes—places where journalists dream of working—before turning 30 must have had an intense vision board, but that wasn't necessarily the case for Rubina, and she lets me in on the perk of not making a five-year plan. "If I had a five-year plan, I would have always been a little bit unhappy with what I was doing then, and thinking about what I would do in the future," she says. "Whereas I feel like for most of my life and most of my career, I've been really appreciative of what I have and been able to go with the flow with whatever the next step would be."

In this episode, Rubina also talks about the toughest career decision she ever made: leaving her job at WSJ, a place so comfortable it felt like home, for one at The Intercept...when she was five months' pregnant. Job uncertainty—my favorite subject, and I share a little bit on this, too. Oh, but one happy update: My job situation is not as precarious now as it was at the time of this recording, and, in fact, things are improving for me. This is journalism, folks.

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.
 

16 / The Anti–Five Year Plan

My interview today is with <a target="_blank" href="https://www.melissaludtke.com/">Melissa Ludtke,</a> a journalist who has reported for Sports Illustrated, been a correspondent for Time, worked at the Nieman Foundation for Journalism, and is also the creator of a transmedia project called <a target="_blank" href="http://touchinghomeinchina.com/">Touching Home in China.</a> But in today's interview we're talking about life in her twenties, and Melissa's was marked by the famous 1978 court case Ludtke v. Kuhn in which she, a young journalist backed by her employers, Sports Illustrated and Time Inc., sued the Major League Baseball Commissioner for the right to report from players' locker rooms. Melissa is at work writing a memoir about this experience, and I can't. Wait. To. Read. It. Melissa didn't fall into sports reporting so easily. She had graduated and wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do next when she had a chance encounter with football player and commentator Frank Gifford, who told her she knew a lot about sports—for a girl. Melissa decided that sports journalism was going to be it, and Gifford invited her to New York City to tour ABC Sports. Despite having a foot in the door, Melissa didn't get a job at ABC Sports right away because—twist!—the women's movement had started, and companies were coming under fire for putting women who had college degrees in administrative work. First she had to pay her dues as a secretary for Harper's Bazaar (which, I guess, didn't care about that). But when Melissa wasn't working, she'd shadow at ABC, absorbing as much as she could. Melissa ended up at Sports Illustrated as a researcher/reporter, and using her press pass, spent night after night at the ballpark. There was just one problem: Because she was a woman, Melissa wasn't allowed to go into the players' locker room for interviews before the game started (this was after batting practice—no one was naked!). If one of her male cohorts couldn't persuade a player to step outside and do an interview with Melissa, she didn't get any work done that day. But Melissa didn't make waves—it wasn't her style—and she didn't stop showing up. And then, a breakthrough that signaled her go-slow approach was working: Mickey Morabito, the Yankees' PR director, asked her if she'd like to join the men reporters in Yankees manager Billy Martin's office after games to do interviews. And for the 1977 World Series, both teams—the Yankees and Dodgers—agreed to allow Melissa access to their locker rooms to report. Unfortunately, that wouldn't come to pass. The baseball commissioner banned Melissa from the locker rooms during the World Series because she was a woman. And so, Melissa became the face of a lawsuit against Major League Baseball for equal rights. To find out how the judge in her court case ruled, listen below, or subscribe in <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/life-tk/id1263727697">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/amanda-woytus-life-tk-podcast/life-tk?refid=stpr">Stitcher.</a>This episode was produced by <a href="https://www.erinmckinstry.com/">Erin McKinstry.</a> Our music, from <a href="https://sessions.blue/">Blue Dot Sessions,</a> is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts.

<description>My interview today is with Melissa Ludtke, a journalist who has reported for Sports Illustrated, been a correspondent for Time, worked at the Nieman Foundation for Journalism, and is also the creator of a transmedia project called Touching Home in China. But in today's interview we're talking about life in her twenties, and Melissa's was marked by the famous 1978 court case Ludtke v. Kuhn in which she, a young journalist backed by her employers, Sports Illustrated and Time Inc., sued the Major League Baseball Commissioner for the right to report from players' locker rooms. Melissa is at work writing a memoir about this experience, and I can't. Wait. To. Read. It.

Melissa didn't fall into sports reporting so easily. She had graduated and wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do next when she had a chance encounter with football player and commentator Frank Gifford, who told her she knew a lot about sports—for a girl. Melissa decided that sports journalism was going to be it, and Gifford invited her to New York City to tour ABC Sports.

Despite having a foot in the door, Melissa didn't get a job at ABC Sports right away because—twist!—the women's movement had started, and companies were coming under fire for putting women who had college degrees in administrative work. First she had to pay her dues as a secretary for Harper's Bazaar (which, I guess, didn't care about that). But when Melissa wasn't working, she'd shadow at ABC, absorbing as much as she could.

Melissa ended up at Sports Illustrated as a researcher/reporter, and using her press pass, spent night after night at the ballpark. There was just one problem: Because she was a woman, Melissa wasn't allowed to go into the players' locker room for interviews before the game started (this was after batting practice—no one was naked!). If one of her male cohorts couldn't persuade a player to step outside and do an interview with Melissa, she didn't get any work done that day.

But Melissa didn't make waves—it wasn't her style—and she didn't stop showing up. And then, a breakthrough that signaled her go-slow approach was working: Mickey Morabito, the Yankees' PR director, asked her if she'd like to join the men reporters in Yankees manager Billy Martin's office after games to do interviews. And for the 1977 World Series, both teams—the Yankees and Dodgers—agreed to allow Melissa access to their locker rooms to report.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't come to pass. The baseball commissioner banned Melissa from the locker rooms during the World Series because she was a woman.

And so, Melissa became the face of a lawsuit against Major League Baseball for equal rights. 

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.</description>

Melissa Ludtke on Life TK

My interview today is with Melissa Ludtke, a journalist who has reported for Sports Illustrated, been a correspondent for Time, worked at the Nieman Foundation for Journalism, and is also the creator of a transmedia project called Touching Home in China. But in today's interview we're talking about life in her twenties, and Melissa's was marked by the famous 1978 court case Ludtke v. Kuhn in which she, a young journalist backed by her employers, Sports Illustrated and Time Inc., sued the Major League Baseball Commissioner for the right to report from players' locker rooms. Melissa is at work writing a memoir about this experience, and I can't. Wait. To. Read. It.

Melissa didn't fall into sports reporting so easily. She had graduated and wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do next when she had a chance encounter with football player and commentator Frank Gifford, who told her she knew a lot about sports—for a girl. Melissa decided that sports journalism was going to be it, and Gifford invited her to New York City to tour ABC Sports.

Despite having a foot in the door, Melissa didn't get a job at ABC Sports right away because—twist!—the women's movement had started, and companies were coming under fire for putting women who had college degrees in administrative work. First she had to pay her dues as a secretary for Harper's Bazaar (which, I guess, didn't care about that). But when Melissa wasn't working, she'd shadow at ABC, absorbing as much as she could.

Melissa ended up at Sports Illustrated as a researcher/reporter, and using her press pass, spent night after night at the ballpark. There was just one problem: Because she was a woman, Melissa wasn't allowed to go into the players' locker room for interviews before the game started (this was after batting practice—no one was naked!). If one of her male cohorts couldn't persuade a player to step outside and do an interview with Melissa, she didn't get any work done that day.

But Melissa didn't make waves—it wasn't her style—and she didn't stop showing up. And then, a breakthrough that signaled her go-slow approach was working: Mickey Morabito, the Yankees' PR director, asked her if she'd like to join the men reporters in Yankees manager Billy Martin's office after games to do interviews. And for the 1977 World Series, both teams—the Yankees and Dodgers—agreed to allow Melissa access to their locker rooms to report.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't come to pass. The baseball commissioner banned Melissa from the locker rooms during the World Series because she was a woman.

And so, Melissa became the face of a lawsuit against Major League Baseball for equal rights. 

This episode was produced by Erin McKinstry. Our music, from Blue Dot Sessions, is called The Zeppelin. This interview was recorded with the help of Google Hangouts. Logo by Theresa Berens of Boss Dotty.

15 / The Go-Slow Approach

Interviews with amazing women writers, editors, and journalists ages thirty and beyond, about professional life in their twenties.

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