There’s an itch I have to scratch every single day, and it starts the moment I wake up. Before my feet even hit the floor, I’m scanning headlines. Throughout the day, news programs hum quietly in the background of my life, even if I’m just skimming.
It’s a habit born from a lifelong identity. The newsman in me—who started at his dad’s newspaper in high school, edited student papers, and built a career in communication—is still alive and well.
At its core, the habit is driven by a simple joy: the joy of knowing. There’s a thrill in having the scoop, in understanding what’s happening in the world and being the first to share it. It’s the satisfaction of connecting the dots, of watching the big picture emerge from dozens of smaller stories. This rhythm has been my constant companion, from my first byline to my current classroom, where I try to pass that same curiosity on to my journalism students. It keeps me informed, engaged, and connected.
But there’s another side to this coin. More often than not, the news is a drag. The relentless cycle of tragedy, scandal, and conflict can be emotionally draining. Just last week, I found myself scrolling through yet another string of headlines about violence and political dysfunction and thinking, I can’t take one more story like this today.
It’s a strange paradox I’m sure many feel: we hate the bad news, yet we can’t seem to look away. Part of me wishes the headlines were dominated by stories of hope and progress, but I also know the hard truth—conflict draws clicks. A world conditioned to crave outrage often tunes out the good news.
That’s where my newest habit comes in. Answering these daily WordPress questions has become a ritual I crave. If scanning the news is the intake, this writing is the exhale. It’s the chance to step away from the constant churn of headlines and put something purposeful into the world.
I am, at my core, a writer. And this daily practice has become the perfect counterweight to my news-hound tendencies. It takes the raw, often chaotic information I absorb all day and gives me a place to shape it into something coherent and personal. Some days the words come easily; other days, it feels like pulling teeth. But every time, it leaves me better than I started.
The joy is no longer just in having the scoop; it’s in finding my own story to tell. It’s a reminder that even when the world’s headlines are a slump, the simple act of putting words together can create a headline of my own.
Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.
