So You Think You’re a Rockstar?

So You Think You’re a Rockstar?

I recently put out the word across social media that I needed to hire a new newsperson for a major market. Back in the day I could run a free ad on (which no longer exists) and get a bunch (well, at least 3) decent candidates, and hopefully find one golden application I could run with.

Over the years it’s become increasingly challenging to find those great talents who understand what it is we do at my network.

I created the company after one too many jobs in radio that didn’t last. Now in our 18th year, I made myself a job that has lasted. I started out with one client and after about a year, I was anchoring about 40 newscasts/day by myself. I have a couple of folx with me all of these years, but always seem to have a few talented souls who come and go.

There are times I have been flattered to have major syndicated talents apply; still, I usually wonder why. Each time, I realize, they just aren’t humble. They are taking themselves way too seriously. They don’t take the time to research. It just seems as though they’re looking for that quick hit of airtime (which definitely can be intoxicating).

We are essentially, in the “service” industry. I named this company Remote News SERVICE for a reason. To service stations who otherwise can’t afford a newsperson. I have been questioned to see if we provide producers and writers, if we can negotiate a higher rate (which always ends up being more than my company ever makes), if it’s one day per week, if it’s at home or I provide a studio and equipment (which I have done for someone who has proven they are great, humble and willing, but without the means). Even after all this, I remain surprised to have received my first highly offensive “reel” replete with expletives, racism and antisemitism. We provide news, not biased entertainment.

This is real news. What I am selling is unbiased, un-opinionated content to the masses.

I’m not trying to be harsh here, but please! #readtheroom

Footer | Remote News Service