Why in PR, the place on the page must be fought for — and won (often with sweat, tea, and gentle nagging).
Before the city even stirs, the PR day is in full swing. At exactly 8:07 a.m., the first message pings:
“Has the story come out yet?”
The pitch was sent yesterday. Deadlines have long passed. Yet coverage is expected — urgently, relentlessly, and as if print deadlines bend to our will. The reply? Calm, practiced, and borderline diplomatic:
“We’re following up.”
One might imagine that a Strategic Planning Director spends their days dreaming up big-picture strategies and visionary campaigns. But in the trenches of print media, strategy often means obsessively tracking every headline, highlighting every missing comma, and debating the exact placement of the logo. Because in print, every millimeter counts — and every misstep is magnified in ink.
By mid-morning, clippings arrive. The story isn’t perfect — the headline reads like it was penned by a poet on a caffeine high, the client quote is sliced thinner than a sushi chef’s finest julienne, and the logo barely survives editorial scissors. But it’s there. That hard-won inch of ink on paper. Because in this world, nothing is free; the page must be earned — usually through equal parts charm, persistence, and a tiny bit of pleading.
At noon, the inevitable client call:
“Any update?”
The newsroom gets a polite nudge — think gentle tap, not battering ram.
Meanwhile, the press release is on its fourth makeover. The quote? Softer than a lullaby, sharper than a sushi knife, and polished enough to reflect the office ceiling. AI is invited to contribute but even ChatGPT throws up its virtual hands. Why? Because the briefs read more like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory meets a Shakespeare rewrite — high on whimsy, low on specifics. The magic must be conjured, but the instructions are missing.
Afternoon brings quiet battles. No viral posts, no glitzy activations, just the slow, patient dance of ink on paper. A whisper of a feature pitch sparks fragile hope.
By evening, the coverage remains a myth. Phones are refreshed compulsively. Follow-ups are sent with the tenderness of a cat owner coaxing a grumpy feline. The rhythm of print is maddeningly slow but deliberate.
This is earned PR: a daily exercise in patience, persistence, and perfectionism.
Glamour? Not really. Real? Absolutely. Because in print, the place on the page is never a gift. It’s a prize — won inch by inch, word by word.
And for those who believe in the power of earned media, that is the sweetest victory of all.
(The author is a communications specialist currently working in Masthead PR)
