Six Months on the Quarterdeck

Hard to believe, but I've been here at the Daily Ostrich publisher's desk for half a year already. Feels like I've barely made a dent. Winslow Vance is still running the newsroom like a tyrant. Our stingy CFO, Clayton Brusk, has stopped wearing his sword, but he makes a slashing motion when he sees me, reminding me I'm stuck with him until we duel. Which won't be happening soon—I'm banned from fencing foils until my coach is satisfied he can trust me with a pool noodle.

Still, I'd say things are going well. Subscriptions are up, and I've managed to bring a few friends aboard the ship, which helps one feel more like a captain. I'd be happier if we printed more whale facts, but you have to introduce these things slowly.

(Not a whale fact, but I learned this week that sea urchins eat kelp, so much that they'll ravage a kelp forest, given the chance. This is bad, since kelp forests prevent beach erosion. Sea otters eat sea urchins, but otters have been missing from my crook of the coast for a hundred years. So there's a link between the 18th Century otter-fur fashion and the tendency toward fatal clumsiness in oceanfront homes today. I learned this from the same aquarium volunteer who described their new otter pup, an obvious bully, as having "leadership qualities." I've been pondering that ever since.)

It's fair to say I bought The Daily Ostrich because I wasn't keen to give up the tycoon life, as opposed to some especial vision I had for the paper. It's like a motorcycle. You buy it so you can ride it, not because you have somewhere to be. Yet a ride requires a direction, if not a destination. I do have plans for future stories. Whale facts, as I mentioned, and coverage of my own ascent to the media elite. Also Ask a Genie—can't see us wriggling out of that contract. And Vera Maraschino seems to be embracing her role as a food writer. Beyond that, the sky's the limit! (Technically, the Kármán line's the limit, and even that's permissive.)

I'll be gathering the staff this week to hear their ideas for the future, and it seems like a good occasion to ask you, our honored reader, what you'd like to see more of (or less.) Shall we resurrect the Puzzle Page? Bury it forever? Print a yearly Best-Of issue on actual paper? Let us know what you'd like to see! (Or hold your peace. Silence will be interpreted as perfect contentment.)

Meanwhile, I want to thank you all for reading. A tycoon is nothing without a newspaper, and a paper is nothing without its readers. I'm grateful to you, whether you've been here since the early days of the Sunday Casual-Observer, or you've just signed on, and you're still not sure if The Daily Ostrich is a joke or what. (We're right there with you.)

Many thanks!