Once upon a time, a young Eric Gillin dreamed of being a gossip columnist. But he became disenchanted on his very first day trying out for the Daily News:

"In the world of gossip journalism, your job is to find things that will set tongues wagging, but all those news instincts you've learned in journalism school are useless. If there's a fire, you lead with the dead, injured and damaged. If there's a press conference, you relate what is said. But if there's an awards show packed with C-list celebrities, what's the story? Why should anyone care?"

I'm horrified. The simple rule is: at crappy celebrity events, you lead with the soul-dead, the fucked-over (and -up), and the deranged. It's easy: just look for the bitterest glints in the eyes of the assembled C-listers. That crew will tell you anything on the record for the intellectual edification of the public.
Gillin's Breakfast Club [Knot Magazine]