The many faces of a career

I didn’t think I could make money writing about topics I enjoyed until I took a journalism course in my third year at university. Don’t tell my mom but, for the first time in three years at college, I didn’t skip a single class for once. In fact, I couldn’t wait to do our homework.

The final assignment was a feature-length reported piece. I wrote about Real Dolls, the dark and weird underworld of sex dolls. I had an up-close interview with the man that called himself a Real Doll doctor, who lived in my college town. He repaired sex dolls from all over the world. They were broken, altered, messed with, disfigured and dismembered, often by the men who purchased them and did all the things to these life-size dolls that your twisted imagination is going with right now.?

The article was praised by my class and my professor, who was a journalist at the Sacramento Bee, the biggest newspaper in the area. Because of my work that semester, I earned an internship at The Bee and another neighboring newspaper. This led to my first job out of college at another local paper.?

I was giddy to actually have a job right out of school. I was screaming, “Look ma, no hands!”

I loved writing something new every day, meeting new people and interviewing them. I loved being out in the field, scribbling notes in my tiny notebook, coming up with story ideas, researching them, writing and editing, and finally seeing it in print with my byline the next day, in bold, “By Stephanie Jucar.” I wrote about the local school system while reluctantly working the police beat. I tuned in to the scanner fearing a trip to the bathroom would result in me missing cop code for a major crime scene and the breaking news of the day. I wrote feature pieces on the housing crisis and reported on a married couple without housing, where I followed them for months to give readers a glimpse of the experience of living without a fixed residence. I wrote for the lifestyle section and interviewed ‘80s movie icon Molly Ringwald, the ‘90s kings of R&B, Boyz II Men, and even P. Diddy/Puff Daddy/Sean Combs, whatever his moniker was at the time. And, yes, he is just as pretentious and as big of a jerk in real life as you’d expect him to be. He was extremely late to the interview, too.?

Unfortunately, it was 2005-2007 and the newspaper world and print media were already dying its slow death. In a 2009 article called?The Year the Newspaper Died, writer Preethi Dumpala gives her autopsy; cause of death was the loss of ads. She wrote, “Craigslist ate the classified ads. eHarmony stole the personals. Google took those tiny ads for weird products. And Macy's can email its own damn customers to announce a sale.”?I don’t think it was a coincidence this was during the birth of Facebook, the iPhone, and us flocking to our many screens. Newspapers never had a chance to catch its breath.

My job in the newspaper business was also quickly killing me, as I hardly made rent living in the very expensive Bay Area. I was tired of my strict diet of microwavable mac ‘n’ cheese and cheap vodka.

I had to make a choice: stay on course in rocky waters or jump ship and swim to new territory.

I was mad at myself for considering the switch to a new industry so early in the game. I was proud of the work I had done so far. I had spent those last couple years building contacts, learning from sharp newsroom reporters and editors, finding stories that spoke to me and the community. My parents were also proud, a tough bar to reach if you have immigrant parents. I was just getting started in this career. But my dwindling bank account and I had to do it.

I decided to plunge into “the dark side,” in tech public relations. This was an industry alive and kicking. Doing this helped me resuscitate myself, without having to live paycheck to paycheck. In one career move, I tripled my salary. I figured, in PR, there’s still a ton of writing.

But being in PR hardly felt natural to me, no matter how hard I tried. I got to write but it often felt like I was speaking a whole new language. Corporate speak, marketing jargon, the tech buzz words. Then there was learning how the latest new tech worked with every new client’s offerings. It was exhilarating to learn something new and stressful to make sure I had it right. I often found myself sick with imposter syndrome. With 8+ clients at a time, it was difficult to keep them straight, be consistent with their messaging, and figure out how to “sell” their story to journalists who have strong bullshit radar. I admire so many people in the industry who do it well and with ease and better instincts. That just wasn’t me. I was also a ghostwriter for a majority of my days. Article after article, PR was no longer serving me. I was hiding my work behind someone else’s name, on topics that I wasn’t personally fueled by.?

No doubt, this career expanded my knowledge in business, in technology, in team dynamics, in writing in a business setting. In this time, I popped out a few gray hairs, got married, bought a house, gave birth to two kids, took in our nephew, and then I ventured out on my own as a consultant. Though difficult for me, PR carried me through my most important milestones.?

But I still missed writing. I missed writing on issues I wanted to read about, even the mundane, sometimes the silly, especially the relatable stuff. I read the news for my job and often felt uninspired by the same depressing issues that lacked substance. I wanted to read something different, more personal, more in line with what’s going on with my own adult life and my peers’ lives.

I started this Substack newsletter because, at first, it was a place where my family could read about my mom’s stories living in the Philippines post-WWII. When my mom is no longer with us on Earth, I wanted my kids to someday get to read that grandma hid in a cave from Japanese soldiers, or that the first thing my mom bought when she graduated from college was a clock because she hadn’t owned one until then. I wrote my mom’s personal stories and then morphed my writing practice to reveal more of my own.

These subjects are meaningful to me and, from what I’ve heard from many of you, important to you, too.?

You have become my new small town newspaper readers, telling me the impact of my stories. You’ve told me you relate to these topics, which aren’t discussed enough in things we read.

You’re the community I’m excited to write for.

I wanted to give you my backstory, my why.

My Substack, Unpacking, is where you’ll find unconventional thoughts and examinations on adult life. I tackle the hard stuff, the uncommon discussed topics, when it comes to relationships, or career, or parenting, and mental health. You may not have a mental illness or diagnoses but all of us deal with crappy times that kick us emotionally. How do we change our mindset when we’re so stuck in our ways as adults? How do we deal with the digital clutter of our lives? Do you ever wonder what our past, growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s did to us? How about if you’re a child of immigrants, or grew up “different” or didn’t feel like you belonged as a kid??

I’ll unpack it so you can decide what to do with it, store it somewhere safe, and move on. Adulting is hard and it’s exciting and it sucks sometimes but maybe you can take one or a few things from my writing, reporting, or research, and look at this life, this adult life and see it under a more curious lens.

**Originally published on stephaniecooley.substack.com

Shoutout to some reporter and PR friends from my career! Sarah L. Williams , Corey Lewis , Sarah Arnquist , Nathan Halverson , Fiona Tang , Marie Williams , Bergen Kay , Nikki Neumann , Adrianne Ho , Heather Sundell , Erin Salvatore Fisher , Cathy Summers , Jennifer Usher , Andrea Holland

Paige Velasco and Rusty Shelton thanks for the push for a LI newsletter :)