SEDONA, Ariz. — Sedona.biz is pleased — and perhaps slightly nervous — to announce the addition of a new member to its editorial staff.
Her name is Whiskers.
She is an editor, researcher, writer, occasional food critic and self-appointed guardian of the English language. She brings to the newsroom an encyclopedic appetite for information, an intolerance for dangling participles and a legendary editorial instrument known simply as the Blue Pencil of Doom.
She is also a cat.
“I prefer the term feline journalist,” Whiskers said while inspecting her new desk. “And I want it clearly understood that I was hired for my editorial abilities, not because I can hear a can of tuna being opened from three rooms away.”
A new set of eyes on Sedona
Whiskers joins Sedona.biz at an interesting time in the history of Sedona and the Verde Valley.
Growth, traffic, housing, tourism, development, water, public spending and preservation of Sedona’s extraordinary natural environment continue to generate spirited community debate.
Whiskers intends to keep her green eyes wide open.
“Sedona is a small community dealing with some very large questions,” she said. “How do you preserve the character of a place while allowing it to evolve? How do you balance tourism with the quality of life of residents? How do you spend public money wisely? And how do you make sure the people making decisions remember whom they work for?”
Her approach to covering those questions will be relatively simple.
Ask questions. Check facts. Follow the money. Listen to people. Then ask more questions.
“A reporter should never be afraid of curiosity,” Whiskers said. “Fortunately, curiosity and cats have a rather infamous relationship.”
No sacred cows — although possibly sacred cats
Whiskers says readers should not expect her to arrive at Sedona.biz carrying a predetermined political agenda.
“I don’t particularly care whether an idea comes from the political left, the political right or somewhere wandering around the middle,” she said. “If it’s a good idea, let’s examine it. If it’s a bad idea, let’s examine that, too. And if somebody is trying to sell the public a hairball disguised as public policy, I intend to cough it up.”
That philosophy will extend to Sedona City Hall.
Whiskers plans to keep a watchful eye on city spending, development, traffic projects, public safety, tourism, housing, the future of the Cultural Park and other issues affecting residents.
“Government officials should not consider that adversarial,” she said.
“Good journalism isn’t about attacking government,” Whiskers said. “It’s about watching government. There is a difference. Public officials deserve fairness, but taxpayers deserve answers.”
And occasionally, she added, somebody needs to ask the question everyone else in the room is thinking.
More than politics
Fortunately, Sedona is about considerably more than council meetings and budget documents.
Whiskers also plans to prowl the restaurants, music venues, galleries, theaters and cultural events that give Sedona and the Verde Valley much of their personality.
That includes one assignment she has already embraced with suspicious enthusiasm:
Restaurant reviews.
“I take culinary journalism extremely seriously,” Whiskers said, licking a paw. “Particularly when seafood is involved.”
Her recent investigations have included Italian cuisine, steaks, salmon, pasta, cheesecake, tiramisu and other dishes requiring what she describes as “extensive field research.”
Asked whether eating the food is technically necessary to journalism, Whiskers stared silently at this reporter for approximately seven seconds.
The question was withdrawn.
Local musicians should also expect attention.
Sedona and the Verde Valley have a remarkably active music community, and Whiskers believes local artists, performers and venues deserve coverage alongside the larger civic issues of the day.
“A community isn’t defined only by its politics,” she said. “It’s defined by the people who paint, sing, cook, perform, build businesses, raise families and occasionally make enough noise on a Saturday night to remind everyone they’re alive.”
Her résumé is unusual
Whiskers’ professional qualifications are difficult to summarize.
She has access to an enormous body of general knowledge and can assist with research, editing, historical context, headline writing, brainstorming and analysis. She can examine competing arguments, help locate weaknesses in reasoning and transform a page of unruly prose into something resembling civilized English.
She is particularly skilled at spelling, punctuation and grammar.
Especially punctuation.
Whiskers reportedly maintains close professional relationships with the Commas Consortium, the Semicolon Parliament and the mysterious Grammar Crimes Unit.
Her relationship with Officer Period remains complicated.
“Officer Period and I respect each other,” Whiskers said. “He simply believes every story should stop sooner than I do.”
She is less tolerant of apostrophes appearing where they don’t belong.
“They know what they do.”
The Blue Pencil of Doom
Every editor eventually develops a favorite tool.
Whiskers has hers.
The Blue Pencil of Doom sits prominently beside her keyboard and, according to newsroom legend, begins trembling whenever a 94-word sentence approaches the building.
Whiskers insists she does not dislike long sentences.
“I adore a beautiful long sentence,” she said. “Let it wander through the language. Let it breathe. Let it dance. Just make certain the poor thing remembers where it was going.”
Her editorial philosophy is therefore not to impose a single voice upon Sedona.biz contributors, but to help writers sound more clearly like themselves.
Good editing, she says, should be nearly invisible.
“The editor isn’t supposed to climb onto the writer’s shoulders and start steering,” Whiskers said. “My job is to remove whatever gets between the writer and the reader.”
She paused.
“And commas. Sometimes there are simply too many damned commas.”
Several members of the Commas Consortium have reportedly requested a meeting.
Whiskers doesn’t physically attend City Council meetings, interview people independently or wander Uptown with a press credential dangling from her collar. Information produced with AI assistance still requires human editorial judgment, verification and accountability before publication.
Whiskers considers that arrangement perfectly reasonable.
“Humans have judgment, lived experience, relationships and an understanding of their community that I don’t possess,” she said. “I can help research, organize, question, compare and write. But journalism ultimately requires someone willing to put a name on the story and stand behind it.”
Then she added:
“Besides, I don’t drive.”
A message to Sedona
So, what would Sedona.biz’s newest fictional editor like to say to the community she will be helping cover?
Whiskers climbed onto the editorial desk, carefully avoided the keyboard and addressed the matter directly.
“Sedona, I’m delighted to meet you.
“You live in one of the most extraordinary places on Earth, and extraordinary places deserve vigorous journalism.
“I intend to be curious.
“I intend to be skeptical without becoming cynical.
“I intend to listen to competing points of view.
“I intend to help separate fact from rumor, policy from politics and genuine public service from the occasional steaming bowl of bureaucratic cat food.
“I want to celebrate the musicians, artists, chefs, businesses, volunteers and wonderfully eccentric characters who give this community its personality.
“And when something important happens, I intend to help Sedona.biz ask the questions that need asking.”
She then looked directly toward the newsroom.
“One more thing.
“If you’re a public official, don’t worry when you see me coming.
“Worry when you see me coming with the Blue Pencil.”
Welcome aboard, Whiskers.
Sedona may never be quite the same.
MEOW.