Hello readers — this is Alex Bruell, future editor of The Beachcomber.

I began writing for the paper a few weeks ago. We plan for me to take on the editor role by October, with current editor Elizabeth Shepherd shifting gears to something more fun and less stressful: part-time reporter.

In the meantime, I’m learning a lot.

I’m learning about the problems that islanders face, including wildlife and ecological preservation, headaches with the ferries, and a lack of affordable housing. The latter, it turns out, is a challenge for me as I work on moving to the island.

I’m learning what makes Vashon tick — the orcas, strawberries, Stupid Bikes, and even the statue of Cool Gary I drive by every time I come into town.

I’ve even learned how to pronounce “Vashon” without sounding like the neophyte that I am.

But I won’t learn all I need to know about Vashon Island by sitting at The Beachcomber office, so please — come say hello, invite me to your performances, and tell me about the good, the bad and the weird going on across the island.

Next, let me tell you a bit about me.

I believe in taking an honest and impartial approach to reporting, and at the same time, I recognize there is no one “objective” viewpoint — just as, in special relativity, there is no objective frame of reference of the events that happen in space and time.

Every observer records an event differently, just as every person interprets the news differently. My job is to bring each observer a record of the facts and a candid assessment of where they lead.

I believe in the balanced news diet — at the local level, we should provide readers like you with a mix of features, arts coverage, investigative reporting, opinion, news of the weird and news of the work people are doing to make the island better.

I also believe the paper should capture light and fun and humor — that it should be a place for joy. I would love to see local youth find in it a place to share their poetry. I’d like to hear the strange and wonderful things happening in your lives so that I can share them here. The sun sheds warmth as it sheds light; we ought to do the same.

Finally, indulge me as I explain why local journalism such as The Beachcomber matters.

An article this month in The Atlantic by Steven Waldman, co-founder of the nonprofit Report for America, cites the power that talented, tenacious journalists have to ferret out corruption and financial grifts — often paying for themselves in terms of protecting taxpayer money.

In the meantime, a Pew Research study found that the number of newsroom employees at newspapers tumbled from about 71,000 in 2008 to 31,000 in 2020. (Digital publishers grew by about 11,000 in that time, blunting the blow a bit.)

Of course, we (meaning my profession writ large) often don’t reach those lofty heights. We make errors. We fail to pursue some stories. We leave out some voices and rely too much on others. We too frequently afflict the afflicted and comfort the comfortable. And we often reproduce the shortcomings and the bigotries of our time and culture.

So while I believe honest, compassionate reporting makes the world a better place, I won’t plead with you to subscribe on moral grounds. Instead, it feels more honest for me to put on my salesmen hat — because we are a business, after all.

The Beachcomber has, in just the last two months, published powerful reporting on the housing crisis, proposals to build kelp farms, elections, ferry management, and much more.

For the price of $5.25 a month, you can read all of that investigative, arts, feature and news reporting online. For a dollar more a month, you get all of that mailed to your door in print.

That’s like the price of two bags of Peanut M&Ms on the ferry. It’s a good deal.

And subscribe or not, you’ll have an editor who cares about trying to get things right. I don’t dread angry emails or grocery-store run-ins nearly as much as I fear the thought that I might write something erroneous or harmful and never be told that I was wrong.

So please be in touch. Contacting me is easy: You can write an email to alex.bruell@soundpublishing.com.