The Strangeness of Interviews

There's no solid day job in my life right now, but I make money freelancing for various publications. That means I'm a writer for hire, usually at 10 cents a word. The last jaunt was copywriting, but I prefer straight-up journalism over promo or ad writing any day.

Over the past few years I've interviewed dozens of people for articles and profiles -- in person, via email, on the phone. Every interview is a little bit different. I had an exciting one today, and tried to hide my excitement under a veneer of professionalism that came off a little stiff. I have never been on the other side as the interviewee and I am sometimes afraid it shows. (Job interviews are a different beast. There's a difference between, "Do I want to work with you, your personality, day-in and day-out?" and the "who, what, when, where, why and how" of a press interview.) Sure, sure, in Uni journo classes there were practice interviews at our desks, but that's not the same as sitting in the chair with a mic in your face, or being the person holding that mic. "Tell me everything about your life so I can write it down in my own words. Go!" Kinda horrifying, right?

Guarded interviewees will know when to state something is off-the-record or refuse to answer a question. That's cool. As long as you answer something. There have been a handful of interviews where it feels like I'm pulling teeth to get something beyond a yes or no answer. On the flip side, there have been a few interviews where I am suddenly and intensely bonded with the person I'm speaking to, social buddies meeting for booze and inside jokes, and oh, right, I have to write down what you're saying, sorry. Hang on, lemme turn on the tape player.

I use cassette tapes; a few years ago my MP3 voice recorder died during a phone interview with a local radio personality and I didn't realize it until the whole shebang was over. (Luckily, I had taken extensive notes.) Best to be an analog writer in a digital world. A button pops up to let me know when to flip the tape. Transcribing is a chore though; rewind the tape, stop, play, type, stop, rewind, repeat. 

There are people I never want to interview. I think I would actually refuse a chance to interview David Bowie. Never meet your heroes. They become human and fail you in the end.

Maybe one day, I'll become something beyond just the interviewer. And maybe someone will sit me down with a prepared list of questions and an eager, pleased look in their eyes and stick a microphone under my nose. It may not be as horrifying as it seems. Let's hope.