I’ve been listening to a music podcast recently, and the host, who began his broadcast on a lark, has been talking about his attempts to secure an interview with a musician he is a tremendous fan of. (wow, I hate the way I worded that sentence, ending in ‘of’ but I’m far too tired to re-write the damn thing) In a nutshell, it’s not going well, and today he was semi-complaining about it, and all I wanted to do was reach into the audio file and just throttle this guy. For over four years we’ve been running this magazine and have established working relationships with oodles of labels and publicists and I’ve been dealing with a publicist that has all but IGNORED me for two months straight. I’m a publisher, an editor, a writer, and a damn good interviewer and this stupid bitch can’t even have the decency to respond to my emails or repeated voicemail messages. It was only after I left a msg every day for a week that I finally received an email – but not even from her, from another publicist in the office. And it was less than professional or cordial.
And this guy, who has no journalism experience, no prior reputation to build from – he’s bitching cuz some 80’s has-been rocker ‘doesn’t like to do interviews’? Give me a fucking break. That’s part of the job. In fact, I’ve had publicists cast the wide net of press releases offering their clients up for interviews but then when you attempt to take them up on it, you either get crickets or a buttload of specific questions then nothing concrete. Don’t get me wrong, I know that’s not always the publicists’ fault but the fact remains that nothing, and I do mean NOTHING is guaranteed when attempting to cover ‘celebrities’ unless it’s in your hand.
Fuck – at least this guy can go on his podcast and bitch about it. He can seek the sympathy and backing of his listeners. I, on the other hand, have to keep quiet and maintain professionalism. Because if I went on and on about the artist I’m trying to interview as much as he goes on about his situation, everyone would think I was a freaking groupie just trying to get near this guy so I could blow him! That’s the truth of being a woman in this business – to be a fan is to be a groupie. He’s allowed to be a fan, he’s allowed to gush, he’s even allowed to make remarks about the object of his affection’s looks (and yes, it is a female) but not me. Hell, I have to weigh carefully what photos end up on the site and make sure they’re not too ‘chummy’ cuz god knows, someone could get the wrong idea. I mean, gosh, who would want to just hang out with a cool chick and have a few drinks, right? The only reason ANY man would want to be in my presence is under the guise of getting in my pants, of course. And because we are chicks who talk about drinking and men and sex, then we must be stupid and lacking in professional vision. We can’t possibly know what the hell we’re talking about, or heaven forbid, what a business plan is.
And the worst part is that we’ve gone out of our way to be ethical in running this business. We’ve made decisions based on how the other company conducts themselves, how they treat women. We’ve lost revenue because of these decisions, yet we’re the ones suffering.
And I’m the one who gets ignored by publicists on power trips.
Fuck, I wanna smack that guy.