You say you were scared to interview people, but aren't any longer. Your problem is right there-- you have to prove it. I dont' quite believe you. Why the change?

There's a huge big difference between being a "reporter" and a "writer." Not every "writer" (even good ones!) are meant to be "reporters." Newspapers very rightfully don't want to hire someone with no proven reporting capabilities. You can prove your writing abilities any way you see fit-- sample columns, blogs, whatever. That doesn't prove you are a reporter.

Several things: 1. It's not true all internships are unpaid; 2. There are small, struggling newspapers across the country willing to take a chance on unproven writers. 3. If you REALLY want to write for a newspaper, walk into the newsroom, pitch a story idea on a freelance basis, then write and report the heck out of the story. Freelance. Come back again the next day with another idea, then another, then another. Suddenly, one day, a year later, you'll be earning some real money at it , the newspaper realizes they can't survive without you, and you get a real job.

Having missed the opportunity to prove yourself a reporter in college, you have to do it another way now.

There's plenty of work out here for writers. You just have to stop making excuses , get your ego out of the way and get some thick skin (ie, you can't feel crushed every time you get turned down for the job with your name "written on it"). Being a reporter requires thick skin anyway.

At the beginning of a writing career you are mostly proving that you can actually produce writing of saleable quality and at a commercially viable pace.

Incredibly prolific writer J. Michael Straczynski once explained that "They won't turn on the music until you prove you can dance." You have to prove your ability first. Money comes later. Maybe much later.

And what are you selling anyway? Good spelling? A grasp of grammar? No. Another prolific writer (this time Harlan Ellison) takes the position that writers sell courage. Fortunately, there are lots of kinds of courage. Some people are willing to go find out what is happening in Iraq. Some people are willing to investigate scandals. Others are willing to be incredibly self-revealing to total strangers. Still others are willing to spend months on the gamble that a tale of a boy wizard might sell a few copies.

So, get started and be brave.

Stringing words together in a manner that successfully conveys a point of view or accurately describes an event is by definition writing. However, many would-be writers seem to believe that their ability to do this qualifies them for membership and employment among the ranks of professional writers.

Anyone who has ever read a piece by an author that consisted of nothing more than a series of facts broken down into sentences and paragraphs knows that there is a tremendous difference between merely writing and the work product one expects from someone who calls themselves a writer.

To answer the question of C. Tennis; if you want a job writing, prove that you are better than someone who already writes for any publication where you seek employment.

I had no training whatsoever as either a journalist or a writer. To get my foot in the door I chose a piece by someone who obviously put little effort into their work and rewrote it using only the information contained in the original article. I sent both to the editor with a note that said, if he liked my work and had any story or event that other reporters typically had no interest in covering I would be happy to do so.

A few months later he asked if I could do something on the local Memorial Day ceremonies. (This was in the late 80's, when these events consisted of little more than a handful of elderly vets placing a wreath at the local memorial)

While trying to think of an interesting but respectful angle, something that would capture the attention and then tug at the heart strings of anyone who read it, I happened to be driving down a road that was a mix of houses and wooded undeveloped lots.

I had my story.

It was what wasn't there.

To look at an empty, wooded lot and see a modest house with a big front porch, a Saturday afternoon barbecue with a bunch of grandkids running around the yard, a few middle aged men and women standing around on the lawn talking, and a smiling gray haired old man standing on the porch alone, taking it all in.

And then point out that there were several hundred thousand vacant lots just like this one, spread out over every corner of every state in the nation. Places where no home was ever built, no kids were ever raised and no laughing carefree grandkids ever had the chance to experience the wonder of just being a kid. Because the old man who lived there never got to be an old man; he died 40 years earlier on the beaches of Normandy, in the countryside of Europe or in the tropical islands of the South Pacific.

I simply explained what I had thought to a few of the old vets, learned they had similar thoughts all the time, and they then were able to provide me with real names and faces, real descriptions and real stories about their friends who died during the war and never had the chance to become old grandpas like they did.

Mix the real people, alive and dead into the scenario I laid out above and let the old vets speculate as to what they believed would have been the life path of their long-dead pals and there you have a story.

Many newspapers accept unsolicited manuscripts from free-lancers for Opinion or "My Turn" type stories in special sections. (The L.A. Times is one.) Try submitting pieces anywhere and everywhere you can, just to get something in print. If you're really a writer, start writing and sending stuff out every week. Eventually you'll get things published and voila... clips!