For me, it has always been for the story.
I was raised in the mountains, in a small Utah town at the crossroads of the West. The daughter of an artist-turned computer engineer and a school teacher, I grew up in a house filled with books.
I was eight years old when I first discovered the power of a story. I was a petulant child — easily provoked, and one day, someone had snubbed me. I went to my father for vindication. He instead gave me a book. A begrudging recipient, I slumped against the wall and turned to page one. An inquisitive girl, a rabbit hole, a world of nonsense, and obscure reasoning. Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” captivated me and I read into the night.
I would look further. I found Holden Caulfield and Ántonia Shimerda, Nicholas Nickleby and Jane Eyre. I devoured the words of Brian Doyle and Billy Collins, Faulkner and Hemingway. I became a regular at my local bookstore and frequented the Sunday book section of The Times. Each introduced me to the written word and its potential. But reading wasn’t enough. I began to write. I scribbled in class, in bed, in the shower, on the eight a.m. bus, and in the school cafeteria. I wrote essays and poetry. But mostly, I wrote stories.
As a student in London, I observed the media coverage of Britain’s economic downturn and returned to the states with a new story idea: a print shop, four convicts, and a case of yellow journalism. The novel became a five-year project, which led me to a study of the history of the newspaper. I poured over articles, clippings, and textbooks, exploring the evolution of the news industry, and my fascination with journalism converged with my love of a good narrative.
I learned a new kind of storytelling at The Deseret News. I saw how stories can not only engage and entertain, but warn and protect. It became my duty to question, inform, and hold accountable. I wrote strong, data-driven stories that are relevant, impactful, and timely. I experimented with new narrative approaches in different mediums. And I sought to offer motivation toward action by presenting in-depth insight on local, national, and international issues. It was storytelling with solutions.
For two years, I was managing editor of Graphis, an international design publication in New York, where I directed the publication of six books per year, in addition to overseeing the launch of Graphis Magazine.
Today, I am a graduate student at Columbia Today, I am a graduate student at Columbia Journalism School, telling stories about culture and social justice issues. When I am not moving words around or chasing a story, you can find me rehearsing pirouettes on the dance floor. I keep daily tabs on flights to Morocco when my gas tank is usually running on empty. I long to know some understated, mapless coastal pocket on the edge of a continent. I speak jibberish with my friends in cafes. I search for obscure foods in farmer markets. And this little piece of the internet is my secret life of daydreams.
For two years, I was managing editor of Graphis, an international design publication in New York, where I directed the publication of six books per year, in addition to overseeing the launch of Graphis Magazine.
Today, I am a graduate student at Columbia Today, I am a graduate student at Columbia Journalism School, telling stories about culture and social justice issues. When I am not moving words around or chasing a story, you can find me rehearsing pirouettes on the dance floor. I keep daily tabs on flights to Morocco when my gas tank is usually running on empty. I long to know some understated, mapless coastal pocket on the edge of a continent. I speak jibberish with my friends in cafes. I search for obscure foods in farmer markets. And this little piece of the internet is my secret life of daydreams.
You can check out my work here, follow me on Twitter, stalk me on Instagram, or just send me an email.
@ 2012 by Rachel Lowry. All Rights Reserved.
