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Ode to the Written Word: A Dream Beyond Athletics

Ode to the Written Word: A Dream Beyond AthleticsOde to the Written Word: A Dream Beyond Athletics

SEATTLE – "Sometimes, people don't like the facts."

A wry laugh bubbles brightly out of Michelle Newblom's throat, accompanied by a winning smile below good-natured yet slightly mischievous blue eyes. At first glance, she appears to be a typical undergraduate student in a famously progressive city, yet there is something magnetic about her presence that is difficult to place. A silver ring on her left nostril winks cheerily – a tiny and yet eye-catching piece that indicates the presence of a rebellious spark.

Newblom, a creative writing major, writing studies minor, and aspiring author, acts as editor-in-chief for Seattle U's student newspaper, The Spectator, and as an intern for SagaCity Media. Secondarily (to her), she is the current Seattle U track and field record-holder for both the indoor 60m hurdles and the outdoor 100m hurdles.

"I really thought that I was going to play soccer in college," she admits, a bit sheepishly. "I didn't start competing in track and field until high school, and didn't take it seriously for a while. I'm an independent person, though, and soccer is very much a team sport. In a race, I only have to rely on myself, and if I mess up, it only really affects me."

Her lifelong passion of writing, however, takes precedence over her athletic ability from an identity standpoint. "I've known that I wanted to be a writer since I was in first grade," she says. "It started out when I was little, and I loved writing stories."

Creativity runs in the family – Newblom's mother and younger brother are both talented musicians and artists – and their support was essential to Newblom's growth. "My parents got me one of those huge PCs that didn't even connect to the Internet, just so I could type," she remembers, beaming. "I feel like I got very lucky that they didn't discourage me from writing as a career, because it 'isn't going to pay the bills.'"

Newblom's mother kick-started her professional writing aspirations through a somewhat unusual gift. "Maybe it wasn't the best parental decision, but my mom gave me a Stephen King book when I was eight. It gave me a lot of nightmares."

Nevertheless, she was hooked. "I read The Shining shortly after that, then Pet Sematary. I was influenced enough to the point where I still really like writing horror. I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else when I first got to Seattle U, but it's kind of scary to depend on writing books right away. College has opened up more doorways where I can still do what I like to do in a professional setting."

Newblom became involved with The Spectator during her freshman year.

"Two of my former teammates worked for the paper and suggested that I come to a meeting. I was scared," she says, chuckling a bit nervously. "I hadn't done a lot of journalism, and the thought of 'hard news' kind of scared me. I didn't know what else there was." Despite her fears, she kept returning to meetings, albeit cautiously. "I didn't take a story for five meetings or so – I just kind of sat there and watched."

When she finally took the plunge, Newblom went all-out. "My first story was a really big news story, and I interviewed Father Steve," she recalls, referring to Seattle U President Stephen V. Sundborg, S.J. "But I realized pretty quickly that I didn't like news. I tried Arts and Entertainment – didn't like it. Then I started writing about sports since we didn't have any sportswriters, and I understood it more from my experiences as an athlete."

As a sophomore, Newblom was given the position of sports editor, and used her influence to rope several of her teammates into the paper's staff. "I told them that they'd get paid and get to talk to cool people in the department," she laughs. "A good chunk of the paper is the track and field team now – I obviously don't have enough time to talk with too many other people."

Now, as a junior, Newblom is facing new challenges as editor-in-chief. "Thankfully, I only have to be at the paper in-person on Monday nights, so there's not much overlap with track," she says. "If things go wrong, though, and we're up until three or four a.m. putting the paper together, I'm not afraid to tell Chad (Pharis, track and field assistant coach) or Kelly (Sullivan, track and field head coach) and they'll tell me not to come to practice the next day to let me keep up with rest and school. They're very, very appreciative of our time, and very much emphasize that if we have a problem, we can and should come and talk to them. They genuinely care about everyone."

With that in mind, Newblom can turn her attention to her new position's increased responsibilities and personal requirements.

"You need a lot of confidence in this role," she says. "When people don't like what's published, there's not much you can do, since it's already out there."

The Spectator has seen its share of controversy in recent years, much of which arises from its unique status as a publication funded by a private Jesuit Catholic institution that sits smack in the middle of distinctly non-Catholic Capitol Hill. One of Newblom's most important tasks is to deal with the increased spotlight upon the paper, and the subsequent rise in both interest and criticism.

"I do trust that our editors and writers are doing everything honorably, but I like that people e-mail me. I'm grateful for any feedback," she says. "I'm pretty much in charge of everything – the section editors, the odd jobs, the Monday night meetings. I meet with my faculty advisor once a week just to see what we can be doing better. Any sort of criticism comes to me, and it's my job to deal with problems."

It isn't easy, even for a fiercely determined individual such as Newblom. Throughout her time at The Spectator, she has witnessed previous editors-in-chief handle conflicts arising from cover images, investigative news stories, and advertisements that some readers felt conflicted in some way with the university's religious values. Now, she has to carefully examine each item of content that goes into the paper, making sure that it's as objective as possible from multiple angles.

"We're not trying to make anyone out to be a 'bad guy'," she insists, her smile fading into something more serious. "We report both sides to all stories – even the harder, more controversial ones. If I think that it's what people deserve to hear, then I have no problem with having that conversation with others who may not like it. I believe in everything that we're doing."

From a professional standpoint, Newblom already has a path laid out – or, at least, the start of one.

"I'll probably freelance for SagaCity Media after my internship with them is over," she says. "When I started working there, I mostly did fact-checking, but now I write a lot of stories and do plenty of editing. I had never written for a magazine – I've had journalism experience, creative writing experience, and I've worked on Seattle U's academic research journal, but I really wanted to try my hand at magazine writing. It's a good mix, and it's opened up more pathways for me."

The road that Newblom has chosen will lead her to Rome, of all places, where she has landed an internship writing for a tourism magazine the summer after she graduates. "The magazine caters to people like me," she elaborates, "talking about the differences between Italy and America, things like that." Does she know any Italian? "Not at all," she grins, "but I'm going to start working on that this summer."

And then what? Newblom's eyes briefly take on a slightly unfocused, dreamlike quality, as if looking at something wonderful that only she can see.

"Honestly? I don't like being tied down to one place," she finally says, absently rubbing her fingers together. "I'd almost rather do freelance for the foreseeable future – stay in one place for a few months, and then move, and move again. See what's out there, you know?

"If I ever get to just write for the rest of my life," she finishes, "it would be a dream come true."

Her fingers still, and Michelle Newblom softly smiles.