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Subscribe to get full access to the newsletter and publication archives. I am not charging, but you can always pledge. Otherwise my retirement plan is to die young.
What’s this about?
This Substack was an accident. I just needed somewhere to post one thing. Then people subscribed, and now I guess I’m a newsletter person. Oops.
Here, you’ll find dispatches from the news industry, notes from the margins, and the stuff we’re usually too polite — or too professionally self-preserving — to say out loud. It’s about what it means to lead, to screw up publicly, to course-correct under camera lights, and keep going despite the public embarrassment. It’s about what happens when the “diverse hire” sticks around long enough to rewrite the budget and the editorial mandate.
It’s a not-quite-newsletter from an Indigenous woman who got into journalism sideways, stayed too long, argued too much, and somehow ended up running the place (once or twice).
Sometimes I’ll spill tea. Sometimes I’ll tell you a story that makes you laugh so hard you forget we’re all slowly losing our minds.
This industry is in chaos. So this is my confession — and a controlled burn.
Honestly, it’s how I manage.
Who’s it for?
It’s for anyone who’s ever led a team that wouldn’t be led, or found themselves held responsible for other people’s chaos while quietly Googling how to manage adult humans without crying and who needs better advice than you’re currently getting from your therapist. I can help.
Because journalists are curious, brilliant, unpredictable, and deeply allergic to authority. Managing them is like coaching a squad of caffeinated raccoons with trauma, press passes, and strong opinions about comma placement — and I say that with love. Mostly.
It’s for the folks still trying to survive inside the machine — and for those who slipped out the back door with their ethics intact and a folder full of receipts.
This space is also for people who still believe journalism matters — actually matters — to democracy, and who want to separate truth-telling from the noise, spin, and the well-funded bullshit masquerading as news.
It’s for anyone who wants to know what’s really going on behind the headlines — and is open-minded enough to be challenged. Because the truth is, things are always messier than we’d like, the answers aren’t easy, and the solutions sure as hell don’t come wrapped in a neat little narrative.
Who am I?
I’m Karyn Pugliese. The only one on the internet. So my victories and sins are public and easily Googled.
I’ve spent decades zigzagging through journalism: Indigenous newsrooms, legacy media towers, a Harvard fellowship, and press gallery chaos. I didn’t come in the front door. Most of the time, I wasn’t invited at all. I just happened to be standing nearby when the industry cracked a little — and I was stubborn enough to squeeze through.
I’ve been in journalism long enough to know where the bodies are buried — and in some cases, who buried them. I’ve run newsrooms at APTN, CBC, and Canada’s National Observer, and I’ve taught at Toronto Metropolitan University. These days, I’m back doing what I actually came to the industry for: writing, podcasting, teaching, and sitting on too many industry boards. I advocate for press freedom — and think you should too.
I’m a mixed-blood Algonquin-Italian citizen of Pikwàkanagàn First Nation. When I’m not doing journalism, you’ll probably find me in a canoe, behind a camera, or eating frybread.
[LinkedIn here]
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