Rural journalism isn't dead. But the old business model may be.

Imagine running a newspaper where you're the editor, reporter, photographer, designer and sometimes the person challenging city hall. For many rural publishers, that's not an exaggeration. It's their daily reality. Yet amid growing concerns about news deserts and disappearing newspapers, some small-town publishers are finding ways to survive by rethinking their business models and strengthening community relationships. During this episode of E&P Reports, Bill McKenzie of the George W. Bush Institute and Texas publisher Suzanne Bellsnyder discussed what it really takes to keep rural journalism alive.

Finding what works instead of documenting decline

Rather than producing another report chronicling newspaper closures, the Bush Institute's Keeping Rural Journalism Alive examines organizations finding innovative ways forward. "We know what's not working. Let's see what we can find that is working," explained McKenzie, the Institute's senior editorial advisor.

For Bellsnyder, founder and editor of the Texas Rural Reporter and publisher of the Hansford County Reporter-Statesman, the challenge is intensely personal. "I'm the editor. I'm the photographer. I'm the writer. I'm the interviewer. I'm even the designer," she explained. That involvement creates something larger news organizations sometimes struggle to replicate: personal relationships with readers.

"These are my neighbors, my friends, my friends' kids on the front page during football season," she said, describing the trust that develops when journalists are deeply embedded in their communities.

Rethinking revenue in small markets

Bellsnyder acknowledged that advertising remains her biggest financial challenge. Her newspaper relies on three primary revenue sources: advertising, public notices and subscriptions.

But she's experimenting with new approaches, including special editions and sponsorship packages. "We shifted from the old per-column sales of advertising to almost like a sponsorship-type level of advertising," she explained. The newspaper now structures advertising opportunities around revenue goals rather than simply selling space.

"And it's working actually pretty well," she said. Her previous career as a political fundraiser helped inspire the approach. "My brain thinks in sponsorship tiers," she explained, adding that her mother now serves as the newspaper's advertising salesperson.

McKenzie emphasized another potentially uncomfortable strategy: raising subscription prices. "The price of your local newspaper in small-town communities has not kept pace with Coca-Cola or, you know, ice cream," he said, referencing research by University of Kansas professor Teri Finneman.

His advice is straightforward: "Charge more," but explain the economics to readers. Publishers should be transparent about operating costs and the value journalism provides.

The staffing dilemma

 Even promising revenue opportunities face a significant obstacle: limited manpower. "I'm basically a one-man show," Bellsnyder acknowledged. Although she receives some production assistance, most responsibilities fall on her shoulders.

She has considered expanding into events and other revenue-generating activities, but execution requires resources she doesn't currently have. "I have a whole book of ideas of things that I'd love to do," she said, adding that the challenge ultimately comes down to bandwidth.

Why knowing your journalist matters

One of the study's most compelling findings concerns the relationship between trust and proximity.

McKenzie recalled a conversation with Clarendon, Texas, publisher Roger Estlack, who encounters residents claiming they don't trust the media. "I am the media," Estlack tells them.

Yet residents often respond that they don't consider their local newspaper part of the distrusted national media establishment. McKenzie believes those relationships explain why removing journalists from communities can undermine trust. Readers are more likely to recognize journalists as neighbors when they encounter them in everyday life.

Holding powerful neighbors accountable

Community relationships don't mean avoiding difficult reporting.

Bellsnyder said holding elected officials accountable was among her motivations for taking over her newspaper. "They do not like it at all," she said of local officials. "But my readers really appreciate it."

She described an ongoing dispute involving a city that, according to her, had not completed audits in three years. "I'm not exactly popular," she acknowledged, but said the general public supports her efforts to address the issue.

A future beyond print

Both guests expressed cautious optimism, while emphasizing that rural publishers must embrace change.

Bellsnyder is experimenting with Substack, TikTok explainers and social platforms to expand her reach. "We've all gotta kinda adapt to, and think about not just how many newspapers are we printing, but, like, what is our true circulation of the content that we're pushing out there?" she said.

McKenzie agreed that sustainability requires experimentation, realistic financial strategies and committed leadership. "With the right capital, the right strategies, and the right commitment, I think we can have a bulwark at least against some of this collapse in rural journalism."

For Bellsnyder, the warning is equally clear: "Those of us that think we can do the same old model forever, those are the papers that are gonna go away."

The message for rural publishers is not that survival will be easy. It's that the future remains open to those willing to adapt.