Helen FieldsScience Writer

This is fun – an article from the New York Times about “crash blossoms.” Those are headlines that don’t make sense because they’ve dropped too many of the little words that help make English understandable. Most of them hinge on the fact that a lot of English words can be both nouns and verbs, and the third person singular of the verb is the same as the plural of the noun. Thus: “British Left Waffles on Falklands.” Heh-heh. Waffles.

So, I’m sitting here at my desk at Die Welt a few minutes ago and my neighbor’s phone rings. This happens often. But then I notice that she’s leaning over, looking at my phone, and reading off my phone number. She hung up and told me it was a secretary, and shrugged – she didn’t know what it was about.

The secretary calls and says, “Frau Fields? Do you speak German?” And I said, “More or less.” She said, “I have a reader on the line, I’ll transfer you.” And I was like, uhh, uhh, and there he was. Yesterday the 19-year-old intern and I co-wrote a story about chronic kidney disease and kidney failure. (Really, it was mostly her – she’s young, but she’s good. Also, she speaks German and can interview people.)

The nice man told me he’d read my article in today’s paper about kidney disease, and I’d mentioned a test to detect protein in the urine. Well, yesterday his wife had a blood test at the hospital, and he had the test results, and could I tell him what the line about protein meant?

Uhhhhh….no. No, I could not tell him that. We chatted a bit about tests for kidney function, agreed that it was best to talk to the doctor (he relayed this to his wife) and he thanked me for such an informative article and told me to keep up the good work.

I pretty much feel like now I am a German superstar, although I didn’t understand everything he said, I stumbled a bit while talking, and, yeah, I totally couldn’t answer his question. Man, I haven’t gotten a call from a reader in forever. It’s the last day of my fellowship – not a bad way to end.

Back in the fall, when the media world started feeling the drop in advertising and laying off lots of people, the blog hosting people at Typepad came up with a nice little program: Typepad for Journalists. They’d give you a free pro account, tech support, maybe help you put ads on your site. All about helping newly-unemployed journalists by giving them a home in the digital world.

When I got laid off in November, I knew one of the first things I wanted to do was set up a website and a blog. I figured the two best choices were Typepad and Wordpress, so I sent off an application to the Typepad for Journalists program to get that ball rolling in case it ended up seeming like the better deal. But I decided Wordpress would work better for me, and I kind of forgot about the Typepad thing.

So here’s a little timeline. Dec. 17, 2008: I send a message to Typepad telling them I want a blog. Jan. 16, 2009: They tell me I’m accepted to their program. (Everyone was – I’m not that special.) Sept. 25, 2009: They send me my discount code so I can register and start blogging.

Uh, yeah. Waiting nine months to start a blog – that’s definitely the way to show you’re on top of the news.

Today I wrote my first story in German! Ok, actually my second story in German. I wrote a little tiny story last week at Bild, but something went tragically wrong and it didn’t get published. But today’s story went into a layout and went to the presses and will be in newspapers tomorrow! Real live newspapers! Which, apparently, people in Germany still read.

The edit went a lot better than you’d think, considering German is not my best language. It’s not even in my top three. In the first go-round, the editor corrected my grammar (which wasn’t *too* bad, but I’d guessed some genders wrong and messed up some cases) and fixed the two or three expressions that made no sense. I made the corrections, and then he went through and did an edit that was a bit more rewritey while I watched over his shoulder and suggested alternate phrasings and the intern at the next desk looked up words on Leo. In the final version, I still know what all the words mean, and it still ends with something funny I thought up. (My other funny was cut for space. Sigh.)

The editor and I bonded over our mutual love of the letter ß. It was taken out of a lot of German words in the spelling reform of 1996, presumably because it’s weird and people who don’t speak German don’t know what to do when it shows up in a text. It’s called the “eszett” and it makes an “s” sound. I’d used it to write the word “daß,” because cmon, there’s a ß key right on my keyboard, and that’s how I learned to spell “daß” in 1990, and besides, I love that letter. But the spellcheck on his computer caught it and he replaced it with “ss,” and we had a little grumble about it.

The people at Die Welt still seem to think I speak German. I suspect that I actually speak a unique hybrid of German, Norwegian, and German-accented English. But they keep speaking German to me, so I keep speaking my mishmash, and everyone seems happy.

Today was my first day at the new workplace, Die Welt. (”The World.”) It’s got the same publisher as Bild but is somewhat higher-brow. For example, there are no naked ladies on the cover and very few exclamation points in the stories.

I wasn’t optimistic about my first day – I’d never managed to reach my official contact before starting, and when I reached a secretary on Friday, she appeared to be mad at me – but it went really well. I already have an assignment for tomorrow. And it’s for a story I proposed myself. At a meeting. IN GERMAN.

I showed up in the morning and spoke German and somehow they took this to mean that I actually speak German, rather than just being able to fake it in brief, uncomplicated encounters, and they keep speaking it to me. (And repeating themselves more slowly and with simpler vocabulary when I’m confused, bless their hearts.)

I’m afraid the editor thinks I am also writing my story in German. My written German is like that of a five-year-old who has only learned one or two sentence structures and has a severely limited vocabulary and was probably also raised by wolves (see example of corrections here). Of course, everyone here reads English perfectly well and I’m sure I’ll be able to get translation help if I need it. But it’s for Wednesday’s paper. So they’d better help fast.

Wish me luck.

Germany seems like it should be a reasonably peaceful place. But when you work at a tabloid, you read about all sorts of unpleasant things.

A few days ago a guy allegedly murdered the mother of his baby and her parents with a sword. Last week an old man shot and killed three people. Some people found a murdered woman in a barrel the other day. Earlier this week a guy was sentenced to 10 years, 9 months in prison for something awful enough that I don’t really want to tell you about it.

So the U.S. doesn’t have the market entirely cornered on heinous violence.

In other news, this week is British Week on the cover of Bild – all the naked ladies are from the UK. Well, I say naked ladies, but they’re really only mostly naked. They always have a bikini bottom or something. And I learned an important vocabulary word: “Oben-ohne-Models.” It translates quite directly: topless models.

It’s a winning combination, crime and nudity. Also, celebrity news. I’ve even heard of some of the celebrities. Zac Efron, of all people, was on the last page of yesterday’s paper, as were Ginger Spice, Leonardo diCaprio, and “Prinz Andrew & Fergie.” But the lead story on the front page this morning was about…some German celebrity being pregnant with the baby of some other German celebrity.

To sum up: I’m actually really enjoying my little stint at the tabloid and still have my fingers crossed that I’ll be able to write a story for them before moving on to my other placement next week.

At last! Today I started work at Bild-Zeitung, far and away the highest-circulation newspaper in Germany. It sells on the order of 4 million copies a day. USA Today, the top U.S. paper, has a little over 2 million circulation. And there are only a quarter as many people in Germany. So, we’re talking about a very influential newspaper. Oh yes – and it’s a tabloid.

If you go look at Bild’s website, you don’t need to speak German to notice something about it: lots of sex and violence. The print edition has a naked lady on the front page every day. There may also be more naked ladies on the inside of the newspaper – you never know what naked lady news may have broken in the last 24 hours – but you’re definitely guaranteed one on the front page. I think more U.S. publications should consider adding this feature, because it clearly sells papers.

I only went in for a few hours this afternoon, so I can only report that the people are really nice and there’s bottled water for all in the printer room:

It’s sparkly water, of course.

Alan Mairson, a writer who left National Geographic at the same time as me, has big ideas on how to do something about the Society’s problems. (Maybe also society’s problems, but he’s mostly talking about the Society for now.)

The idea is to use his new website, Society Matters, to unite people to do things like “crowdsourcing” and “beatblogging” – the internet is a bottomless well of new words – and come up with a way for the National Geographic Society to get its act together and find a way forward in this era of aging subscribers and plummetting ad revenue.

To which I say, Awriiight! Go Alan! I’ll be following along for sure. Because, really, it’s a pretty cool Society when you think about it. They fund research on underwater archaeology and mongoose diseases, for goodness’ sake.