I had a newspaper in Flint, Michigan called the 'Flint Voice,' and so it was a, you know, underground, alternative newspaper that I edited and put out for about ten years.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Fortunately for me, or unfortunately, they made me an editor of the Parish Prison Pelican. I could read and write, and I had a way with words.
Somebody once said I had a face for radio and a voice for newspapers.
The major newspapers simply stopped writing about me, and my voice could no longer be heard on radio or television.
I come from a long line of people that write. My folks ran a weekly newspaper.
I was editor of my high school literary magazine and a reporter for the school newspaper.
I wrote for magazines. I wrote adventure stuff, I wrote for the 'National Enquirer,' I wrote advertising copy for cemeteries.
I went to a large consolidated school in Appalachia. And I wrote the story when I was in the second grade and I took it up to the third floor to the school newspaper office that was written and edited by juniors and seniors.
The worst part of my life is newspapers are still alive - sorry, I had to say it.
I always read what I write out loud, and I did that long before any radio thing. My editor finds that unusual.
I wrote the music column in my high school newspaper.
No opposing quotes found.