Living on a prayer

The newspaper industry could use a hero right about now.

And no, I don't mean one like Lex Luthor, who "altruistically" purchases a newspaper -- and then blows it up. We're doing a pretty good job of imploding all on our own these days.

The bottom line is that we're in trouble. Big trouble. And it doesn't take a genius to know that not even Superman may be able to save you when the formidable opponent you're up against is the economy.

I've held off talking about this because, quite honestly, I'm shell shocked. There's a chance that I may not have a job by Christmas. Four and a half years, countless Inside Sundays, more than 100,000 miles, and a mountain of page proofs later, I may be unemployed. Or I may be doing something totally different here. Or The Times could be bought by the same company that has been bleeding us dry under the weight of the JOA. The fact that I don't need "101 ways to lure your new man into bed" anymore is just one reason why I don't subscribe to Cosmopolitan anymore -- I can't stomach the idea of supporting Hearst.

In an industry that thrives on uncovering the truth, this state of uncertainty is terrifying.

We've heard everything from a 25 percent reduction on the desk, to a 30 percent across-the-board cut, to the situation being OK if we can get our spending in line with our profits. All we know is that we have a whole lot of debt, the economy has basically decimated advertising revenues, and that our focus is shifting toward the Web.

And what I know is that I am seventh from the bottom on the seniority list for desk editors. It's not a panic-inducing place to be (yet), but it definitely has me nervous. I've survived before, but how many times can one person land on their Coach-heels-covered feet?

The industry has been battered for some time now, and it doesn't appear to be healing. Every daily newspaper in the state -- probably the country -- has had cuts, and just when we think it's as bad as it's going to get, we hear that the Tacoma paper reduced its entire staff to 37.5 hours a week, or the Skagit Valley paper laid off so many people it realized it now has to hire some.

But we're The Seattle Times. We're supposed to be invincible.

I don't think anyone counted on a hailstorm of Kryptonite.

Admittedly, as the role of the media shifts in general, there have been moments where I've asked myself if it's worth holding onto the railing of the Titanic as it goes down. I'm only 26. I have plenty of time to start a new career.

But then I remember that the ship is still floating.

And for some of us young journalists, it's still a ship of dreams. Like the dreams of a 12-year-old girl who wants to be Lois Lane -- who wants to change the world.

After my husband, journalism is the love of my life. I just don't see how you can get divorced if you're still in love.

When you love something, you fight.

And that's what I'm ready to do.