I've now been trained to do the front page of the paper. I've put together 1A three times so far, with varying results. The first one I did all by myself wasn't the hottest, and the worst part about that is that the next day, I was in the news meeting where we critique the day's edition. The silence after the phase "Well, how did we do today?" from the editor was uncomfortable.
But now I've got the hang of it, and feel like I've learned a ton about page design and elements that belong on the front page. My news sense has been honed and I have a better eye for photos. I like that.
Most of all, though, I like seeing the newspaper all around town and knowing I made it. There is a secret pleasure in knowing what's behind something people take for granted. Sometimes, after I drop John off at school, I swing by the grocery store to pick up some cereal or milk. I stand at the checkout counter in my drama pants (flannel-lined floral satin), a scruffy sweatshirt, and tennies without socks. If it's a good day, my hair is brushed.
I see the paper, and smile. That front page? Mine. Believe it.