Close-Up: 24 hours with ... Kerin O'Connor, The Week

Name: Kerin O'Connor
Job: Managing director, The Week
Professional mission: To publish a brilliant and respected magazine
Personal mantra: Be persistent and trust your instincts

4.00am The jet lag rouses me with an odd blend of wakefulness and disorientation. I try to stay asleep but fight a losing battle.

5.00am Slouch in bed watching Sky News and drinking tea while the sun rises in Sydney harbour.

6.15am I check e-mails from the UK, while I listen to Radio 4's night news on the web. Then I ring my wife back home to wish her goodnight.

8.00am Arrive at our newly opened office in Surry Hills. We're behind on the office refit, and it looks a little like the top floor of a car-park with odd pockets of office furniture dropped in.

9.30am The direct marketing agency comes in to swap notes on the construction of the local website for The Week and our direct mail plans. They're bright boys with good ideas, but God knows how they will hit the launch deadline of 31 October.

11.00am I break for a caffeine injection from the local cafe.

11.30am Our amiable distributor Les Banner pops into the office to tell us the magazine has been accepted by Qantas as an in-flight news magazine on its international flights. Terrific news.

1.00pm Our editor-in-chief, David Salter, takes me to lunch behind Sydney's High Court with a highly entertaining and connected barrister who's agreed to be part of our editorial board. We stroll back to the office through Hyde Park chatting about the editorial mix.

3.45pm We review the production process to make sure we can actually distribute the magazine around the country on time.

4.30pm I ring my wife to say good morning.

5.00pm We whizz round to Naked's offices to visit our account director and check on the creative work's progress. They're on top of things. We troop back to the office happy.

6.30pm London awakes and I make some calls to the head office, before we break for a quick beer in the grungy pub next door.

7.30pm I wander back via Chinatown, where I eat some delicious barbecued pork and read the day's papers.

9.00pm Back at the apartment, I manage to hold my eyes open long enough to brush my teeth and get into bed.

9.30pm I make a feeble attempt to read a book before falling asleep.


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