To a young, aspiring journalist, particularly if he or she is unattached, I still say: go for it. Reporting will exist on some level, for some people. It’s still one of the most interesting jobs in the world. But watch your back. Constantly reassess your situation. The people who pay your salary are far more concerned about your byline count than the person behind the byline.

The road ahead for me won’t be easy, but I am fortunate. I have a knack for science—and my post-bac classes have confirmed that. I also have a patient and encouraging ex-journalist wife with a stable enough job that I can make this leap of faith. If it works, I will be thirty-nine when I graduate from medical school—undoubtedly, among the oldest students in my class. Too old? I hope not. The train may be leaving the station, but if I sprint, I think I can still jump on board.

You only live twice.

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The steady drip of layoffs and buyouts, slowly desiccating once-vibrant newsrooms around the country, has also produced a reservoir of anger, sadness, fear, uncertainty—even some cautious optimism here and there—among reporters and editors who invested years, decades in some cases, of their lives to print journalism. We’ve asked anyone so inclined to channel these emotions, not into rant—although there will be a bit of that—but rather into reflection on what went wrong, and where we might go from here. We will publish one per day, under the headline “Parting Thoughts.” All of the letters we publish will be collected here.

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