Some months ago, I got a call, which I ignored, and then a text, which I couldn't, from a writer. The text went: "Hey! I just called ya. I have a pitch I need to talk to you about. It's an extremely exciting/logistically difficult story but feels perfect for WIRED, and more specifically for you to be the editor of. Give me a buzz when you can today!" Not a bad sell, as these things go, but still. Annoying. Why couldn't the writer—Joseph Bien-Kahn, a dear colleague of many years—just email like everyone else? I was also on vacation at the time, soaking up the rays and assorted springwater minerals at a very rundown spa somewhere in stinking-hot Northern California. Let me be!
But so relaxed was I, and therefore generously inclined, that I did "buzz" Joey back. He is, I have to say, one of the nicest guys in American journalism. And sure enough, within seconds, he had me smiling. And then beaming. Because the pitch really was that exciting: "These guys are about to hide gold treasure in the woods, Jason!" Joey said. "For a massive real-life treasure hunt! And I'm the only journalist they've invited to come along!"
I can't resist treasure. (See my previous newsletter, wherein I came out as a pirate.) Neither could my bosses, even knowing, as we all did, that the story would indeed be "logistically difficult." That's because the treasure was to be hidden just before the hunt was to be announced. Meaning Joey would have to write as much of the story as he could, fly out to New Hampshire for the treasure-hiding party, and then file new material pretty much from the ground, which we'd then have to edit and fact-check and copyedit and, finally, publish ASAP. Long story short—literally; it'd eventually run at a brisk, lively 3,500 words—we did it. Joey did it. It's a story about gold, but it's also a story about glory: for those who find the treasure, yes, but also, in this case, for those who hide it.
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