When To Say When: The Pursuit Of A Coveted Interview Has Its Limits
As I stood outside the iconic Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio, I couldn't help but think about the countless hours spent chasing a coveted interview with one of rock's most elusive legends. It was a pursuit that had taken me to the farthest reaches of the globe, from the sun-kissed streets of Los Angeles to the rain-soaked alleys of London. And yet, despite my best efforts, I still hadn't landed the interview.
It wasn't for lack of trying, though. As a Forbes writer, I've had my fair share of high-profile interviews with A-list celebrities and world leaders. But there's something about securing an exclusive chat with a rock icon that gets the adrenaline pumping like no other. Perhaps it's the thrill of the chase, or the promise of unearthing untold stories from behind closed doors.
My quest for this particular interview had been ongoing for years, with multiple attempts and rejections piling up like autumn leaves. I'd tried every angle, every tactic, and every possible connection to get my foot in the door. And yet, no matter how hard I pushed, the door remained firmly shut.
It was then that I began to wonder: at what point does the pursuit of a coveted interview become an all-consuming obsession? When do you know it's time to say when?
As I pondered this question, I couldn't help but think about Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon. I'd had the privilege of interviewing him once, and it was a conversation that would stay with me forever. But getting that interview took 12 long years of persistence and patience.
"Neil was a very private person," I recalled. "You had to earn his trust, gain his confidence before he'd even consider sharing his story."
I realized then that my pursuit of the rock legend's interview had been fueled by a mix of admiration and respect for their work. But as the years went by, and the rejections piled up, I began to wonder if it was time to reassess my priorities.
That's when I received an email from a publicist representing one of the most iconic rock bands of all time. They were promoting a new documentary about the band's early days, and they wanted me to interview the lead singer.
I hesitated for a moment before responding. Something didn't feel right. The email seemed too slick, too rehearsed. And then it hit me: this was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid all along – another carefully crafted PR stunt designed to generate buzz rather than genuine insight.
In that instant, I knew it was time to say when. The pursuit of a coveted interview had become an exercise in futility, a never-ending cycle of chasing after something that might never materialize.
As I looked out at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame's gleaming facade, I realized that sometimes it's okay to walk away from the chase. There are more stories to be told, more interviews to be had, and more adventures waiting just around the corner.
The rock legend's interview would have to wait – for now, at least. But as I walked away from the Hall of Fame, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. It was time to focus on the next great story, rather than getting caught up in the pursuit of one elusive legend.
In the world of international journalism, there's no shortage of stories waiting to be told. And sometimes, it's not about who you interview, but how you tell their story that truly matters.
*Based on reporting by Forbes.*
