Emma Gleason, Writer 18.07.25

I feel really positive about writing right now. It’s no secret that the media is tumultuous and challenging right now; our industry is in a period of considerable change, that follows 15 years of considerable change, and at this point, for most of us, it feels like flux is the status quo. (Though arguably, if you’ve read the likes of Marshall McLuhan, it always has been).

Adding more change into the mix by leaving a full-time job at an institutional media organisation to go freelance sounds like it would only add to the anxiety and pressure of working in this industry, but the reality is that I’ve found that shift hugely freeing. It can be likened to leaving a big ship with a damaged hull for the relative safety of your own little lifeboat, one that you steer.

My big ship was the New Zealand Herald and Viva, and I chose voluntary redundancy during the last round of restructuring earlier this year. After five years, in which I learned a lot and worked with people I loved, it felt like the right time to move on. I saw the lighthouse flashing in the distance and decided I might as well go independent and “give it a try”.

How do you frame a new chapter professionally? Do you call yourself a journalist or a writer, when neither feels like it captures the full extent of what media is in 2025, not to mention how the trade is evolving? My bio is simplistic, vague by design. “I work with words” seemed like the best way to describe the broad range of things I do with brevity and clarity.

Since March I’ve launched a Substack, Crust, and discovered that not only have people been following my work since the blogging era, but that they enjoy what I write and are willing to pay for it; I’ve contributed to some of my favourite local media titles, including Ensemble, Metro, RNZ and Here; and I’ve plunged into more unfamiliar territory, radio. It’s all a result of saying yes, even if you’re nervous about it. Because that’s the thing. These days, in this industry especially, there’s no blueprint or promises. The trajectory of establishment media is no longer assured, nor is public respect for these institutions.

There are so many people not only trying new things, but making them happen; indie magazines, online platforms, boutique publishing imprints, creative grants, zines, podcasts, web series. There’s so much innovation and so many ideas. Everyone’s throwing things out there to see what sticks, because that’s what you’ve got to do.

If you’re in media (or want to be), what you need to do now is experiment, try every medium you can, and be adaptable — it’s like cross-training, but for your brain and voice. Whether writing requires readership isn’t a question I’m going to answer here, if that matters to you (or helps pay your rent), then you need to engage with your readers — your audience — who value your work and are interested in what you have to say. If you find something engaging, chances are someone else will too. That’s the north star, not SEO optimisation or Google trends.

Currently, I’m making a concerted effort - even if only to indulge my own creativity — to write about topics for no other reason than they interest me, or feel necessary right now. A good writer is always working to be better. That’s what makes this work so rewarding. Writing is thinking. It’s also an act of generosity for your reader.

Good ideas, however they’re rendered, will always have a place. That’s why I don’t believe AI will ever be able to replace truly meaningful work, the kind that makes you feel. And besides, taste is more valuable than ever and only going to become more so. Cultivate it, which requires work, time, and self-reflection, but can be personally (and professionally) rewarding. You have to go out there and experience and observe. It makes for richer stories and grounds them in the real world. Talk to people! Plus you’ll feel better for it.

And that’s what I really love about this industry, particularly in Aotearoa, is that sense of community (to deploy used-and-abused word). By and large, local writers support each other — and should — reading each other’s work and giving props when it’s due. The industry’s too small and too hard to be competitive, not anymore. At its best, you feel part of something. That’s why I think it’s incredibly important to reach out to your peers, emerging and established alike. I will always, always have a coffee with any young writer who wants to. (I’m buying).

Writers should talk to each other, build connections, and not in a “networking” way, but because you value the ecosystem you’re in. You should also look beyond the industry at other creative vocations, because they likely have similar experiences and unique perspectives that are new to you. Which brings me to where I see the role of a writer, as a vessel of collective consciousness, or perhaps were like a piece of glass that refracts a shaded reality to give it a different shape or colour.

I try not to worry about AI, at least not to lose sleep over it. Focus on what you can control, build your own house if you can. Mediums change, but the message still matters (so does where it’s coming from). What’s increasingly of value, culturally and socially, are things rooted in the real world; words of wisdom delivered offline, handmade rarities, and human thought. Feelings. Ideas. And that’s what we have in spades.

Written by Emma Gleason. Find Emma's Substack, Crust, here.

Photograph courtesy of Sahil Singh.