Further Adventures in Radio

I had a meeting with my mentor at Radio Leeds this week. I'm not over the thrill of that yet. I have a mentor. Me. Inexperienced, out of my depth me. It's bloody brilliant.
An experienced, knowledgeable, talented person is helping me get closer to becoming a broadcaster, and the BBC is letting him do that on their time. It's an act of such generosity on his and BBC Yorkshire's parts; I'm extraordinarily lucky. I'm Wayne and Garth meeting Alice Cooper - "We are not worthy" - and I'm Charlie Bucket, golden ticket in hand.

In February I appeared as a guest on Jake Katberg's Saturday morning panel, chatting away about Facebook movies, texts from the council telling you to exercise more and other lightweight news from the week. My first time on air - wow! It was enormous fun. I didn't feel at all scared, which I put down to that afternoon shadowing Andrew Edwards in early January. It was a familiar environment rather than an intimidating one.  That helped me a lot.

There's the weekend editor, Andy, at the desk. He was a really nice bloke. The cake box you can see is full of home made scones with jam and cream. I figured if Radio Leeds helps me develop new skills, it's only fair they benefit from the skills I have already. 

On this coming Wednesday I'm on air for again - this time as part of the Wednesday Witter chat with Johnny I'Anson a little after 3pm. I don't know what we'll be talking about but I am very much looking forward to it. 

I've got a heap of tasks to do before next month's mentoring session, including recording some interviews. I'm pretty nervous about that, even though they are not for broadcast. It needs to be with people I don't know, last 4 minutes or so, and in a style that suits Radio Leeds. Eek. I'll feel better when I've done the first one.

Looking back to when I first knuckled down and applied for a place on the Women In Radio event, it's been a remarkable 5 months. I still can't believe that my crazy day researching things for my programme idea and trying (and failing) to talk into my iphone's microphone about Leeds for 2 minutes without saying 'um' once led to all of this. Sometimes attempting - whether fearlessly or when you are scared stiff - pays off.

Jay x

At the Heart of West Yorshire

Hello webby friends,

Happy New Year, hope you had a lovely break and that your "Oh God, I'm back to the grind" feelings were fleeting.

Over the holidays I met with the Deputy Editor of Radio Leeds, Katrina Bunker, to discuss bringing my  radio presenting dreams a little closer to reality. Katrina was so friendly, knowledgeable and practical I came away brimming with plans and hopes. The first of these was a session shadowing Andrew Edwards as he put together and presented his 3 til 6 drivetime show, which happened yesterday afternoon. I couldn't have asked for a better introduction.

Andrew and his producer Tim Daley were firming up their running order when I arrived at 2pm. This first hour was very technical, getting audio ready, queuing up the songs for the various regular features, finishing scripts, confirming guests. They explained the software they used, how things were sourced and decided upon. I met their reporter Daragh, political editor Lou, Paul with the weather and the news and sports reporters. Harry Gration from Look North is a big enough local star that when I got home 4 people asked me if I met him (yes I did. Awesome tie!)

My head was spinning a little, trying to keep track of all the information. The technical side wasn't the main focus, of course, but it was a lot to take in at first sight. Tim and Andrew were very patient in the face of my total lack of knowledge and probably ridiculously naive questions. The software available to them was amazing - I'd love to have a play on that music archive! It was like the world's greatest record collection at the touch of a button. And news feeds - the Rip and Read news stories Tim showed me conjured images of an old fashioned world of telex, cigarette smoke and "hold the front page" urgency.

As Andrew said, the complete trust between the two of them in one another's competence and support was a key part of the success of the show. The Editor (or Deputy, in this case, as Editor Rosina Breen is on secondment at the moment) gives them the freedom and creativity to put the show together, they have utter faith in each other's ability to get their bits set up ready to roll and they make a very complicated set of tasks look effortless as it goes on air.

Once the programme began, I sat in with Andrew in the studio. Geez, he's good. Radio can flatten sound  as it comes out of tinny little speakers, I've noticed. As he talks, Andrew modulates his voice through its range to keep the sound interesting and avoid any monotone dreariness. He must talk to the clock in order to keep regular bulletins in their rightful place, I'm sure he must. But not once during three hours did I feel he was rushing something nor spinning it out to cover the last few seconds.

I made a note of the language Andrew used - partly to spot patterns and partly because I do love words. He was positive and encouraging, but not in a false "hey there, pop pickers! Here's another smashing tune..." way. He talked of fond memories watching old Sci Fi programmes, hearing new versions of old favourite songs, being pleased to see regular guests for the first time this new year.  Any negative comments were in a warm, self-depreciating tone - "Are New Year resolutions a pile of rubbish or am I just being an old grump" - to act as a foil to other contributors.

I thought about this a good deal.

Television is demanding. It's a toddler clamouring for attention, it wants you to look and listen and not do much else but pay attention to it. Radio is a friend sitting at your kitchen counter with a cuppa, chatting to you while you do the washing up, or keeping you company as you potter through the house and garden. It doesn't mind if you can only listen with half an ear for a bit, or if you've only 20 minutes to spend with it.

To choose to spend time with it, you want your radio pal to be good natured and friendly. You don't need someone grumpy or overly upbeat - both can suck the energy right out of you. You just want someone who is nice to listen to (and occasionally talk back to) and who chats about things of interest to you. Quite a lot is said on the BBC training web pages about picturing your listener, and I guess that's who I see: my friend Jean washing the coffee cups in  her tiny kitchen, or my friend Kirsty making packed lunches and feeding the kittens, or Liz and Andy driving to and from work.

After the first chatty, informal hour of the programme I joined Tim at the producers desk as the more news heavy part of the programme began. It was a quiet news day, so Tim had time to talk to me about how radio had worked in the past and where it was going. He was really interesting and insightful (although rather intimidatingly dismissive of music on the radio. I am NEVER telling him any of my favourite records. Ever.) Local radio has an interesting position, he explained. It has one foot in the easy, "give people what they want to listen to" camp and the other in the Reithian "tell them things they ought to know." How national stories and events affect them, here in West Yorkshire, is of more relevance than getting drawn into the media'n'politics bubble that some national radio programmes inhabit.

Tim talked about how pressures from cutbacks, the loss of new, young listeners as kids no longer rely on radio as their new music source,  and changing technologies are all things that will radically change the role radio has in society. To have a future it needs to be proactive in finding new ways to matter to us. Tim's eloquence and knowledge made him a fascinating person to talk with. Broadcasting is entering an interesting phase.

For the final hour I sat in with Andrew again, less intimidated by the screens and control panels but equally absorbed by that most interesting of all skills, Making Hard Things Look Easy. Professionalism like this always thrills me - it's part of why I love some actors, or skilled bakers, or other skilled craftsmen and women - they do something with such apparent effortlessness that you are fooled into thinking anyone could do it. They wear their expertise lightly.

People came in to do their bit - weather, sport, promotion of that night's Look North. There was friendly banter, some pre-recorded segments and between it all Andrew threading various bits together into a cohesive unit. At the end he cleared up, returned all the settings to neutral for the next person to use the studio, and talked to me about what I'd seen and learnt. As I walked out into the driving rain, I couldn't stop grinning. My head was full to bursting. More than ever I know that this is something I want to do.

A Tale of Two Cities - and neither was the right one.

Hello webby buddies!

Last Thursday I was going to Birmingham in preparation for Friday's Women In Radio event. Mark was coming home from London about 10pm, so Mum and Dad kindly offered to  drive over from North Wales to collect the kids from school and look after them in the interim. I booked my train tickets and a night in a capsule hotel. I researched things to do in Birmingham that evening and learnt the route from hotel to event.  I would arrive at the event rested, refreshed and prepared. Everything was organised.

And then came the weather.

Trains were disrupted heading to Scotland, my radio told me. My train was still going on time, claimed the mendacious National Rail Enquiries website. Ever the Girl Guide, I set off an hour early to compensate for bus disruption and a difficult walk across town. I arrived at Leeds station to find out my 12:11 train was running 10 minutes late, so I popped to the wonderful Laynes to grab a coffee.

Back at the station with 20 minutes until my train, I heard the annoucer say it was cancelled. 3 minutes later it was back on but delayed until 12:28. The 12:41. Then 12:52. Then cancelled.

By this time I'd acquired a retinue - an older lady going to her granddaughter's house, a young student going home to Northampton and a young Polish woman whose excellent English didn't extend to understanding platform announcements. Three of them had stood staring at the Departures board on the platform near me at the start, and during the various platform changes asked if they I could show them which one to stand on. We did the commuter version of The Grand Old Duke Of York - marching up and down the overhead concourse.

The beleaguered blokes at the information desk told us all to head to Manchester because they had trains running to Birmingham. One Manchester train was late and the next delayed 20 minutes. We were sardines in a slow moving tin, rerouted around a fallen tree and Dewsbury and waiting for a free platform outside Manchester. Those trying to get to the airport to catch flights were heading towards hysteria, the poor souls.

Upon arrival in Manchester Lena, Beena and Susan, my multi-generational girl band and I sought the next Birmingham train. Hurray, we would catch the delayed 14:07! Except we wouldn't. It was cancelled. As were the next four. There was a hope I could get a London train to Northampton (bye, Beena!) and head back up to Birmingham from there. However, reports were sketchy about trains from Northampton and I didn't want to get stranded too far away from both my destination and home.

News! Trains from Leeds were going to Birmingham now. We all piled onto the platform to head back the way we came. Then no, someone's friend in Leeds asked the station staff there and the rumour was quashed. Nothing was heading to the midlands for the next few hours.

"It's Cross Country," said the Transpenine staff. "All the other companies have given us some information about what's happening but Cross Country aren't keeping anyone informed. It's anyone's guess what's happening. There's nothing coming north of Birmingham and nothing from here north of Preston."

"Until  they tell us more, we're getting our information from the Departures board the same as the passengers," said the nice woman from Network Rail. "We know a tree fell on the overhead lines near Crewe and caught fire. But we have no idea how the clear up operation is going. They said up to a three hour delay when they got in touch at 2:15  p.m." This was at 5:15.

Yes, I had missed the last train to Birmingham by 10 minutes because of that re-routing around Dewsbury. Oh joys. But surely now the three hour window was up we'd get moving again? The 17:40 went on the Departures board and we all felt a surge of hope. With a few minutes to go that too was cancelled.

Those of us from Leeds were over 5 hours delayed by this time. The resigned expressions on our faces were starting to look strained.  I wondered how the station staff were faring. It couldn't have been an easy shift to work.

"If anyone gives me aggro today I'm off! So far people have been fine but you can see them getting more and more frustrated. I understand, but I'm frustrated too and I can't help them. It's been mad." That nice Network Rail woman was looking fed up.

"I thought there would be more argy bargy," the British Transport Policeman said, "but so far it's just been people looking fed up."
"And we can't blame them for that," his colleague chipped in, indicating the display of cancelled and delayed trains. "It's a nightmare."

Susan went to book a place on a coach. Lena did the same, but I saw her later. "Coaches are full," she said. "So is my hotel," said a woman nearby. "Wish I hadn't checked out this morning." 5 blokes decided to go in together on car hire. Several people were complaining loudly that when flights are this delayed they at least get cuppas and sandwiches.
I paid 30p to use the toilet. I begrudged it. It seemed small-minded to make stranded passengers pay for using the toilets when they were stuck in the station for 5 or 6 hours. The change machine swallowed my 50p and only spat 40p out. The bloke cleaning the loos bumped into the lady in front and all her bags went everywhere.

A group of men collecting for a charity for blind dogs approached passengers every few minutes. Not dogs for the blind, dogs who were themselves visually impaired. That is a very niche charity. The men remained undaunted by asking the same crowd of passengers that had been there for hours. Surely we'd be less likely to give to blind puppies the more we were badgered? Or perhaps they hoped we'd donate just to get the sticker to get them to stop asking.

I couldn't take it. I needed to get to Birmingham. I needed a sit down. I needed something other than an M&S sandwich and a cup of lousy coffee from a kiosk. I needed something good to happen.

I went to Sainsbury's to buy a bottle of water. On the end of the aisle were big boxes of chocolate biscuits at two for £5. If something good doesn't happen when you need it to, lateral thinking is the way to go. I bought 2 boxes and headed back to the concourse.

"My fellow passengers! I am having a lousy day. I've been stuck here for hours. I suspect most of you are having a lousy day too. In order to offer something nice in these trying circumstances, I have bought us all chocolate biscuits. Please take one and pass the box to your neighbour."

I actually got a cheer. A little one, but still. Those who didn't want chocolate biscuits (how can that happen?) still smiled and passed the boxes on. Small kids grabbed several before their mums could object and I grinned. It's hard being bored when you are small. Someone offered me his seat. Someone else came over to wish me luck on my journey.

With remaining biscuits I went to the station staff. The Transpenine blokes were delighted to have some. The Transport Police, though...

"No thanks, love. The wife's got me on that Dukan diet," said the first.
"It's Slimfast for me," said his partner. Two big tall men looking tough and gruff in true Northern Bloke fashion turning down biscuits because they are on fad diets; I couldn't quite suppress a grin.

By 6:15 my Network Rail woman told me, "Officially, I have no new information. Unofficially, give it up for today - from here at least. It might be better in Leeds." Obviously everything is better in Leeds, I thought loyally. And I took her advice.

When the next (delayed) train arrived for Leeds I got on and retraced the journey I'd made 6 hours before. Leeds station was much quieter than it had been in the morning, so I had a glimmer of hope that trains were running. But no. The display board still showed all trains to Birmingham as cancelled and the information kiosk staff were pessimistic.

"We could try sending you to Sheffield and then to Peterborough and see if you can get to Birmingham along that line but I can't guarantee it. Leeds to York, York to London, walk from Kings Cross to Euston and then Euston to Birmingham could work, but you might not make the last train from Euston to Birmingham and be stuck there. Just go home, love. Try again in the morning. I don't know about the 6 o'clock train but by the 8 o'clock train surely they'll be running."

The Women In Radio event started at 8:45am, meaning it was the 6 o'clock train or miss it. I felt ready to cry. Dad picked me up from the station and offered to drive me down early in the morning. I couldn't even express appropriate gratitude, so exhausted was I from all that fruitless waiting in Leeds - Manchester - Leeds. I was grubby, anxious and and so stressed about not getting to the event I was ready to explode. A message from my lovely mate Andy sent at 7pm offering to drive me to Birmingham reduced me to tears. Such a kind offer. Sadly it was gone 9:00 when I'd got back to Leeds to receive it.

Ironically, the travel disruption meant that Mark headed back from London on an earlier train than planned and got in at 9:40. "I'll drive you. Let me just grab a cuppa." There's a reason I love him so much.

So, 10 1/2 hours later than planned, 15 hours after I'd initially set off I arrived with Mark in Birmingham. A bit late to manage that early night, but who cares. BBC Women In Radio, I was ready and waiting.

I did it!

Hello webby world.

I hope you are all splendiferously happy and glowing with health. I am extremely giddy and excited because I got wonderful news and I can hardly believe it!

Remember this? My application to do something that may one day lead to the slight possibility of some work in a new field? It was to attend a workshop run by the BBC for women interested in presenting local radio programmes.  It isn't a job, but who knows, one day...

Anyway, there were only 30 places, with a third earmarked for existing BBC staff. Applicants had to record 2 minutes on a given topic and submit a proposal for a daytime radio programme.You had to pass the audio part for them to look at the programme idea, and after that the CV. I sweated blood on that 2 minutes of audio. It is VERY hard to do without any umms and errs.
As my neighbour said, my application was the longest of long shots because all the media graduates and experienced people would be applying. I had resigned myself to not making the cut because it had been 3 weeks and I hadn't heard anything.

Then, last night, I got an email offering me a place.

Charles M Schultz draws happiness best

I am still in denial that I could be good enough to be chosen - I am half expecting to get a follow up email saying sorry, it was a mistake. But YAY YAY YAY! Someone listened to my clip and liked my delivery and style enough to read my proposal and like that too!

Although I would be bloody ACE on local radio because I love my city so much and enjoy sharing my enthusiasm with others. And you get to find out about  - and go to - all the super events and meet interesting people doing fab things, and get paid for it! How bloody marvellous would that be?

Fangirl gush - to be picked by the best organisation in the whole wide world as worth listening to, even just for my 2 minute audition clip, is amazing. I utterly love the BBC as anyone who reads my blog will  know from my frequently references to it and to iPlayer as the greatest thing in society. And it is the home of Jenni Murray, my total heroine and Queen of Radio. I feel like Jenni blew me a kiss and wished me luck.

So, on December 6th I will go to BBC Birmingham for the day to listen to speakers from BBC Radio, meet presenters, producers and managers of local radio and see what I think. I don't know if anything else will come of it but I'm OK about that. For now, just getting this far is wonderful.

J xx