As somebody who makes the bulk of my living via the printed word (newspapers, magazines, books) I’ve been dismayed to read this sentiment repeated a lot over the last few months. (Often, interestingly enough, by people who have a vested interest in the death of print and dominance of the Web, but that’s another post entirely).

I do believe that print is changing, and that there will be a lot of pruning and turmoil before we return to some kind of stability in the industry. But I don’t believe print will die. There are too many people (like myself) who enjoy sitting down with a glossy magazine or paper book, and though I go online a lot for entertainment and information, a computer screen just doesn’t scratch that itch in the same way.

But what bothers me most about this discussion is the way people pooh-pooh print, a model that’s worked for hundreds of years, while at the same time not working to really elevate the model they are promoting. If print really does die, this is all we’ve got left. And I’m not happy with that prospect, frankly.

I see some fantastic writing out there, but I also see “news” that consists of poor reporting, NO reporting, or borrowed/stolen reporting (question for the people who think we don’t need ‘traditional media’: where are the resources and money going to come from to keep creating that quality reporting that many bloggers love to borrow from? How many bloggers are really able to do their own, in-depth, in-person reporting?), horrible grammar and spelling (there’s a reason writing is a profession and editors exist), and product placement posing as content every.single.day (something that is at least kept to a minimum in print due to clearly-established ethical standards and boundaries between the people who write the content and those who sell the ads).

I hate to sound like a curmudgeon, but if we’re in the midst of creating a brand-new media model, don’t we owe it to ourselves and future generations to put some thought into it? To take it seriously as something of value beyond the free stuff or ad money we can score from our own blogs?

I’m not anti-marketing. Clearly, as a freelancer, I have to market my work every single day. I’m not opposed to product sponsorship or advertising. Again, unless we’re independently wealthy, there generally has to be some kind of financial support to keep us producing.

But I feel like the idea of good writing being worth something is being eclipsed by the idea that everybody can make money online. And what I see as a result is a lot of poor content. Call me a snob, but I don’t like it. I value the time and effort and often, teamwork that goes into a really good piece of writing.

We (bloggers, writers who are going online, social media gurus) are in the midst of inventing a new way of communicating. I feel a certain responsibility to make sure that we’re creating something of quality. No, that doesn’t mean that every blog post each of us writes has to be prize-worthy. It does mean that collectively, we need to look at what we’re creating and evaluate whether it’s worth the bandwidth it uses. And if we’re going to write off print and traditional media as dead, the least we can do is look closely at the model to see what we might be able to learn from it. Clearly, traditional media isn’t perfect. But oh my, neither is new media.

Social media holds a lot of possibility. In some ways, it’s the great equalizer: it’s made it within reach–nay, easy–for all of us to be our own publishers, editors, marketers, and entrepreneurs.

My question is simple: are we going to rise to the occasion?

Edited to add: in just one more example of why writers need editors, my fabulous writer-friend Toni just informed me that the word is “pooh-pooh”, not “poo-poo”. Duly noted, fixed, and let me apologize: as a mom of two kids still early in their toileting careers with a baby about to emerge, “poo-poo” is on my mind more than it probably should be.

Even if you don’t have a big family, I think you might be able to relate to my largerfamilies.com post bemoaning the loss of the family sitcom.

1. The week you already have a lot on your plate is the same week you’ll wind up scrambling to fit in interview requests and answering multiple emails that say “Hey there, person I haven’t seen in a decade! Was that really you in the Sunday Styles?”

2. I have got to try digestive enzymes for my near-constant pregnancy-related heartburn. I just finished writing a story about them and heard from multiple people who swear by them.

3. As part of a blogging project I’m working on (more on that to come), I was genotyped by 23andMe, and found out that I’m a carrier for a relatively rare, very serious, often misdiagnosed, but extremely treatable disease I didn’t even know existed until I got my results. What does that mean for me? Nothing. What does it mean for my kids? If my husband is also a carrier, they could very well develop the condition. I admit I was skeptical about genetic testing (and still have a lot of questions), but I am really glad to have this bit of potentially life-saving information.

This is why I love my job–I get paid to collect bits of knowledge, and knowledge, as they say, is power. Although I’m not sure there’s much I can do with the knowledge I absorbed in #1, except to never procrastinate again. I just can’t afford to!

Apparently, even veteran moms get anxious about upcoming labor and delivery. Read my latest post at WEtv.

Also, check out largerfamilies.com–we’ve been having some great discussions this week about big families, the octuplets mom and more.

The New York Times included my thoughts on raising big families–and a picture of my kids and husband and my very pregnant profile–in their story And Baby Makes How Many? (you’ll have to register to read the story, but no worries–I registered with the NYT years ago and they’ve never sent me a single spammy email).

I also wrote about the experience of having my family’s photo taken for the NYT over at largerfamilies.com.

If you’d like to read about what my belly’s been up to, head over to WEtv.com.

Almost five years ago, when I was very early in my freelancing career, I decided to take a “freelancing 101″ class from another writer I met through an e-mail list. I was hungry, green, and very much wanted to take my career to the next level–plus, so many other people on the e-list were talking her up, that I figured she must have a lot to offer. I plunked down several hundred dollars from my so-far meager writing earnings and started the class.

Within a few sessions it became clear that I wasn’t going to learn much from the class. Though the instructor had been writing a bit longer than me, she wasn’t much more published than I was. Plus, I quickly realized that my goals didn’t match up with her experience. She was writing for low or no-paying regional magazines and websites and taught from that perspective; I had my eye on national markets and wanted to make a solid living freelancing.

I hadn’t done my homework, and my money was wasted.

I didn’t realize then how easy it is for just about anyone to present themselves as an expert on the Internet. I also didn’t realize that hype is a funny thing–it often gets whipped up around people and services that aren’t really all they’re cracked up to be. A person can be an excellent self-promoter, but lack the chops, knowledge, or experience to follow through on their promises. Sometimes said person doesn’t even make clear-cut promises, and people line up to sign on the dotted line anyway.

There’s nothing wrong with charging money to share expertise. In fact, full disclosure: my good friend and fellow freelancer Toni Klym McLellan and I are in the planning stages of developing a “freelancing for parents” e-class (our blog aimed at freelancing parents is still around, though not being updated at the moment: From Diapers to Deadlines). While I’m happy to answer questions about writing for no charge–and often do–some people want more than that: a step-by-step tutorial on researching markets and writing queries; help developing a detailed game plan for taking a career to the next level. And when somebody with knowledge and experience goes to that level of instruction and assistance, I do believe they are entitled to earn money from it.

What concerns me is that with new technology, it’s so easy to set up a website calling yourself whatever you want. With quick-moving social media, it’s easy to build a reputation for yourself as an expert in no time at all. All a would-be guru has to do is say it’s so, and people will believe them and sign up for what they’re selling…sometimes without really understanding what, exactly, that is.

It’s not even always the would-be expert’s fault. After all, if I’d paid closer attention to the freelancing instructor’s background before signing on, I would have realized that she didn’t have a whole lot to offer me. But there were plenty of people who found her classes helpful, because she was doing what they wanted to be doing, and her class showed them how. I just wasn’t the right person for her class. Likewise, when I offer a freelancing class, it’s going to focus on magazine and web writing for a consumer audience, both things I have plenty of experience in (as you can tell from poking around my website). If you sign up expecting me to make you an SEO star or expert copywriter or a published poet or a great fiction writer, you’re in for a rude awakening. I do have experience in those things, but not nearly the level I’d need to be an expert or educator in either.

Of course, sometimes, the “expert” is more than just misunderstood–they’re downright shady. Each year it seems a new crop of snake-oil salesmen and saleswomen crop up promising to get you published, make you rich, turn you into a marketing machine, teach you the secret of social media, or help you build a booming business. Often these people are excellent at drumming up hype but simply can’t or won’t deliver the results they promise. A person can be a snake-oil salesperson even if they seem really nice in every other way. Sometimes especially if. There’s a reason certain people are excellent self-promoters, and it’s not because they’re shrinking violets!

In either case, it’s up to you to protect and educate yourself. You can do that by asking yourself a few basic questions:

1) Do the instructor’s experience and knowledge and the class’s objectives match up with your goals?

Why take a pottery class if you really want to be a glassblower? Within any discipline there are specific tracks. Make sure that the instructor you choose is actually capable of taking you where you want to go–because she’s been there herself. And make sure the class you want to take focuses on the things you want to learn. (A fiction class, even if taught by an award-winning, world-famous novelist, isn’t going to help me much if my goal is to write how-to articles for magazines.)

2) What is the instructor’s experience and background? Is it proven?

Look out for people who reveal almost nothing about their applicable experience or background. It’s okay to ask for more information if somebody refers to their “seven years’ experience” but is hazy on the details. Likewise, look out for meaningless buzzwords like “successful”. That word means nothing unless you know how that person defines success–and how YOU define your OWN success. Testimonials are great, but watch for details–they tell the difference between a true testimonial and just more hype. “Betty was awesome and so helpful to me!” is meaningless. “Betty helped me sell my first article and create a plan for meeting my financial goals this year!” tells me that Betty’s instruction and help hold actual value.

3) Does the class, consulting program, etc make promises it can actually deliver on?

Look out for vague or unrealistic claims. A good instructor or mentor should be able to tell you what goals you’ll work on together and give you a detailed outline for how you’ll get there BEFORE you pay a dime. Also, understand the prospects for your intended career. For example, we know that statistically, very few pro bloggers make a real living from their blogs. That doesn’t mean you can’t be an exception, but it’s very unlikely that everyone in your class of 5 or 10 or 15 people will be an exception. Applying this to freelancing classes: I can help most people place an article for sale, but I can’t promise that my class will help them do it consistently enough to make six figures. I can help people develop a roadmap for success in magazine writing, but I can’t guarantee they’ll place stories in five dream publications this year. Make sure the instructor’s promises are realistic things he or she can actually help you achieve. (You, of course, have to provide the motivation, hard work and guts).

4) This one is important: Are you ready or willing to do the work?

If not, don’t waste your money. For one thing, it’s frustrating to try to help somebody who doesn’t really want to take advice. Sometimes, you won’t realize until you’ve gotten into a class that you don’t really have the time or desire to follow through on its objectives, and that’s OK. Just be honest with yourself if a class or consulting session is disappointing–did you put in the effort needed to see a difference?

There are a lot of great instructors out there who genuinely love to help people and have the expertise they need to help you meet your business or creative goals. But in addition to the occasional charlatan, there are plenty of well-meaning people who simply aren’t experienced enough to help you get where you want to go–or who are offering something that doesn’t match up with your goals.

You have plenty of classes, consultants, and mentors out there to choose from, so don’t hesitate to be choosy…and don’t be afraid to ask tough questions or look past the buzz to decide for yourself. A good instructor and true pro will be happy to prove his or her mettle….and his/her career and accomplishments will speak for themselves.