Taking a brief break from fomenting WW III to say I still love magazines.
Still subscribe to a bunch of them, big and small. Still get through them, cover to cover, not long after they arrive. Still carry one rolled up in my back pocket when I'm out walking.
Love magazines.
There was a time in my life where I loved everything about print magazines. Some thought it was in an unhealthy way. In the late 1980s, 1990s, early 2000s, I'd spend hours of my life parked in various newsstands -- there was a Hudson News on Broadway near Astor Place that was a little bigger than the others and had magazines you wouldn't see anywhere else, and I could combine it with a short walk over to the B&N.
It wasn't just the editorial, or to read stories without buying, I actually bought a ton of magazines, still have boxes and boxes of favorites.
I loved everything about magazines
. I learned about the newsstand game, direct mail for subscriptons, how it all related to their audits and how those worked, and how that all related to advertising. I helped start two magazines, one in Chicago, one in NY (both long stories, but both that lasted for quite a while, and broke even, but financially ended up being supported in ways I never thought either would).
So I
love magazines too. Except what I loved doesn't really exist anymore. Which was why I largely moved on. For my sanity, because I saw the handwriting on the wall fairly early and I try to be adaptable, and because I decided I liked earning money, building security, not just clinging to a pashion that wasn't acting as pashionately about me.
Just to give an idea about how nutso I was about
loving magazines. In my early to late 20s, I lived in Chicago for close to 5 years (went to grad school there, started my disjointed career there). I loved magazines so much, just everything about it, that I became good at getting comped to magazines. On top of it, I figured out how to get myself qualified for all kinds of trade magazines that they would send for free to people in the related discipline or industry. They'd send a questionaire to qualify you and I was pretty good at answering the questions right. And every day, my mailbox would be filled with 20 magazines, which I'd pour over trying to evaluate how good they were, if they had the right voice for their audience (as I guessed their audience, at least), looking at their ads, comparing it to whatever media kits I could get my hands on and their rate cards (and guesses about how they had to negotiate rates), and trying to figure out how financially successful they might be. At one point, I had 3 different magazines for pig farmers coming to me. My friends thought I was nuts.