The smaller your mag, the smaller your world. This is a truth I’ve admittedly learned the hard way over time. It's kind of gotten to the point now where I'm surprised when I meet a new small magger. Everyone seems to know everyone else, and sadly, everyone seems to know everyone else's "business."

The small mag community can be unbelievably supportive, with hugs and beers and list swaps all around, but when everything’s a party there’s always the coming hangover. One bad move and your carefully built relationships crumble. Sooner or later something will be said or done that can have a negative effect on both your reputation and your financials. When your business-building is based on back-scratching, favours, and last call, and your colleagues are all your friends (and in some cases, lovers), things can get a bit sloppy.  Fun, but sloppy. Have a bad day and piss off someone at another mag, and you can kiss any hope of a future list or ad swap. Even worse⎯piss of someone at your own mag, and you’ll both be fuming at your desk and avoiding each other on the way to the photocopier.

All work places are tricky in their own way, but the problem with small magazine culture is that it’s often so shoestring that it doesn’t feel like a profession, meaning more often than not people are, well,  unprofessional. There’s really something to be said for people being on the hook for a payment, whether it’s a list rental fee, an ad bill, or a paycheque. The promise of payment seems to keep things in the work sphere and out of what we define as “play.” When you pull late nights with your colleagues and most of your culture takes place on a bar stool, it can be hard to keep it clean. In some ways, this is what makes the industry so wonderful, but the same characteristics can make things precarious. Couple this with the fact that many a small magger works from a home office and the line between life and work is all but destroyed.

If everyone you know and clink glasses with works at a magazine, maybe it’s time to find some investment banker friends. Hell, maybe they can even advise a way to fund your magazine.

When networking becomes a bit incestuous and the plight of your small mag has the potential to overtake your personal life in unhealthy ways, how do you stay sane? In an industry full of big personalities and blurred boundaries, what tactics do you use to keep the pleasurable and the professional happily in balance?


In circ news this week, head on over to a great discussion at Folio: mag about the potential death of direct mail as a source for new subscribers: “Those days of brilliant outers, gorgeous brochures, and well-written 4-page letters are long gone. Or are they? Have the realities of the ‘new’ economy made them obsolete?”

Everything I’ve ever learned about circ has been from consultants.

It pains me to admit this. I often rant about how skewed the industry is toward the old school⎯when you look at a list of our most valued and celebrated circ pros, it’s hard not to notice that most of them are of the older, big mag (and male) variety. When you’re working at a tiny indie mag full of mostly unpaid 20-somethings and someone claiming to have more experience than you saunters in, tells you the way things should really work, and then collects a big paycheque at the end of it all, it’s hard not to be wary. For small mag employees, watching someone cash that fat fee to make suggestions can be a bitter pill to swallow. It also doesn’t help that sometimes a consultant can seem so out of touch with the realities of the small mag plight

So is there really value in consultants for the smaller mags? Most small mags don’t want to be big mags⎯circ pros can have a hard time understanding this. A good consultant understands that big is not necessarily better. It’s also important for a potential consultant to understand what’s actually possible; not only from a financial perspective, but from a labour perspective. Even if you scored a grant and can afford all of the costly elements of a major annual mailing campaign, do you really have the time to make it happen? It’s important to be up front with a potential consultant how many hours you can devote to a project. You should also be realistic about your salary; if you’re making a ridiculously low hourly wage or volunteering your time, is it really practical to suggest you can put in a sixty hour week to embark on complex renewals or direct mail? Small magazine staffers are notoriously neglectful of the value of their time (something I finally and thankfully learned as an hourly billing freelancer.)

Consultants are dreamers with big ideas, ideas that you’ll probably never have because you’re too busy trying to make sure the mag survives. While it’s useful to have someone smart around to consider future growth, it’s important to keep them in check with what’s possible. It's also important to argue. Just because someone has years more experience than you doesn't mean they're always right, something that has never been more true with the advent of the Web as an acquisition tool.

When I started out in circ I was a good student. I absorbed everything the masters said, and followed the tactics to the best my budget allowed. As I gained experience I started to doubt and rebel against the dictum. In some respects, circ can be like art school; you have to learn the way it should be done in order to properly reject it. Now I find the best circ manager/consultant relationships are those that are not of the student/teacher variety, but rather an equal partnership that lasts longer than the grant. Finding someone who can provide the vision while being firmly grounded in the day to day reality of your publication can be a godsend that’s worth the investment. And really, there’s nothing like the relationship between an enthusiastic, high energy circ manager and a wise, staid consultant to keep a magazine chugging along profitably.

What are your small mag experiences with circ consultants?