I'm about to reveal something very strange:
I dream music.
That's right. Occasionally, I'll have a dream that involves nothing but the sound of music. And these aren't songs I know ... these are compositions that my mind creates ... while I sleep.
Don't get too excited -- I'm no Mozart. I can't actually put the stuff down on paper. I just wake up, hearing the music I've just dreamed in my head, and I usually hum it through the day. (Would that I could compose it, but that's a gift that eludes me).
Even though I can't write the music I'm hearing, I use it as a vehicle for more creating. It sparks me internally, gives me that heave-ho I need to put words down on paper (or in this case, the computer screen) and bathes my mind in the peace it needs to compose the lyrical structure of prose.
What do I do when I'm not dreaming music?
Well, today is a perfect example. I'm writing up stories for a technology magazine. These aren't always the types of stories that inspire one to create a blissful scene or dialogue. However, if I'm writing to the backdrop of music from "The Lord of the Rings" or "Prince of Persia," suddenly, my mind is alive again. I'm able to fully engage my copy, as if it were a long-lost, elusive love.
So here's what I want you to do ... dig deep and think about the music that inspires you.
Then, when you really want to punch out the prose ... play it. Sing it. Hum it. Blast it.
And maybe you'll even dream it.
Music has power. Harness it, love it ... and believe me, baby, it'll love you right back.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
My Evelyn Salt Inspiration
Don't ever think of the beginning of your story as the "lead." That's such a clinical, sanitary term for something that ought to be a boisterous shout or poetic whisper of an introduction to your prose.
I like to think of the opening paragraph as my "nugget" -- a gleaming jewel of information that catches sunlight and reflects a dazzling prism.
But how to unearth it?
I have a perfect example from yesterday.
Once every six weeks, I write about technological or engineering corporations or government agencies. Sometimes, these stories completely numb my mind, especially if I'm trying to cobble them together on a Saturday afternoon. (And especially if I'd rather be sitting at a pool than in my tomb of a living room on a hot summer day.)
This story was no different. It was about the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, otherwise known as the DTRA. To be frank with you, when I see acronyms in my notes -- even in the first sentence of my notes -- I get completely zombie-fied.
I was so deadened to the prospect of writing this story that I fell asleep sitting up. I'm not making this up.
After my short cat nap, I decided that rather than try to force the piece, I'd watch a movie. So I plucked up "SALT" on my Netflix account and gave it a whirl. If you've seen the movie, you know it's filled with espionage and big boom-booms and lots of high-speed scenes.
Voila!
There, on the screen, was a scene right out of my notes -- a description of the IT professionals doing their jobs for national security as they tried to track down Angelina Jolie, aka Evelyn Salt.
Suddenly ... I was inspired. I watched the movie to the end, and then I came up with this nugget:
"These are the people who stand between you and disaster: The Defense Threat Reduction Agency (DTRA/Fort Belvoir, VA). The DTRA’s mission sounds like the backdrop for an action-thriller film: It’s the Department of Defense’s official Combat Support Agency that counters weapons of mass destruction."
Sometimes, discovering the nugget in the story isn't as dreary as my task of yesterday. Your source may give you the gem of a quote, or during the reporting of the piece, you may have stumbled into a scene that stayed fixed in your mind. (I once covered an apartment house fire, and the firemen were shooting so much water into the structure that it gushed out of four windows. My "nugget" described the windows as "gaping like astonished mouths.")
Other times, as it was for me yesterday, you just need to give your brain the R&R it needs to give the Muse entree.
Don't actively seek the nugget. If you're stuck, do as I did and take a break. When your brain is ready for it, the nugget will jump out at you like a Jack-in-the-Box.
When it does, that's when you'll get your "Evelyn Salt Inspiration." Then grab onto that inspiration like you would Angelina Jolie on the top of an oil tanker ... and give the readers the ride they deserve.
I like to think of the opening paragraph as my "nugget" -- a gleaming jewel of information that catches sunlight and reflects a dazzling prism.
But how to unearth it?
I have a perfect example from yesterday.
Once every six weeks, I write about technological or engineering corporations or government agencies. Sometimes, these stories completely numb my mind, especially if I'm trying to cobble them together on a Saturday afternoon. (And especially if I'd rather be sitting at a pool than in my tomb of a living room on a hot summer day.)
This story was no different. It was about the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, otherwise known as the DTRA. To be frank with you, when I see acronyms in my notes -- even in the first sentence of my notes -- I get completely zombie-fied.
I was so deadened to the prospect of writing this story that I fell asleep sitting up. I'm not making this up.
After my short cat nap, I decided that rather than try to force the piece, I'd watch a movie. So I plucked up "SALT" on my Netflix account and gave it a whirl. If you've seen the movie, you know it's filled with espionage and big boom-booms and lots of high-speed scenes.
Voila!
There, on the screen, was a scene right out of my notes -- a description of the IT professionals doing their jobs for national security as they tried to track down Angelina Jolie, aka Evelyn Salt.
Suddenly ... I was inspired. I watched the movie to the end, and then I came up with this nugget:
"These are the people who stand between you and disaster: The Defense Threat Reduction Agency (DTRA/Fort Belvoir, VA). The DTRA’s mission sounds like the backdrop for an action-thriller film: It’s the Department of Defense’s official Combat Support Agency that counters weapons of mass destruction."
Sometimes, discovering the nugget in the story isn't as dreary as my task of yesterday. Your source may give you the gem of a quote, or during the reporting of the piece, you may have stumbled into a scene that stayed fixed in your mind. (I once covered an apartment house fire, and the firemen were shooting so much water into the structure that it gushed out of four windows. My "nugget" described the windows as "gaping like astonished mouths.")
Other times, as it was for me yesterday, you just need to give your brain the R&R it needs to give the Muse entree.
Don't actively seek the nugget. If you're stuck, do as I did and take a break. When your brain is ready for it, the nugget will jump out at you like a Jack-in-the-Box.
When it does, that's when you'll get your "Evelyn Salt Inspiration." Then grab onto that inspiration like you would Angelina Jolie on the top of an oil tanker ... and give the readers the ride they deserve.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Writing in "The Zone"
Number one: There is no such thing as writer's block.
Number two: If you've told yourself you have writer's block, you're just not writing in The Zone.
Number three: Stop what you're doing to try to force yourself to write. Do something else, completely unrelated.
Number four: Expect the Muse's visit anytime now.
Pretty much, this is what I tell myself every time I'm staring at a blank screen or struggling to put two words together.
There are different reasons we hit that "block." For me as of late, those reasons are related to stress and fatigue. Unfortunately, in our American Puritanical-cultural-way-of-thought, we employ the worst method possible to force ourselves to write: We tell ourselves that we're being lazy if we move to another activity and if we don't SIT THERE until we get our perfect lead or paragraph or story spin.
Pardon the French, but all of that is Bullshit.
I'll tell you a secret about me that may come as a shocker:
My best writing is done while I'm taking a shower.
Or drying my hair.
Or putting on my makeup.
Or sitting at a stop light or in a traffic jam.
Or unloading my dishwasher.
I call this, "hypnotic time," or ... "The Zone."
What is The Zone, exactly?
It's that time of day when you are physically engaged in one activity, but your mind is wandering all over the place. You know what I'm talking about ... You're driving along a road and you hit a stopping point like a busy intersection, and you realize you've been driving along thinking about things. You don't necessarily remember the actual path you took or what was happening around you when you took it, but you successfully drove from Point A to Point B. All the while, you were engaged in something else -- brain matter.
That's The Zone.
Now the secret is ... harness that time. Seize it for yourself.
You DO NOT have to sit in front of a computer screen or at a desk to create. In fact, I think that's one of the worst places to come up with beautiful prose.
There have been plenty of times when I've been under the gun with 13 stories to write in one week, and I'm so tired that I can barely keep my eyes open.
You know what?
If you're in that situation, GO TO SLEEP. Get up 30 minutes later and then do something in The Zone, like ... water your garden. While you are engaged in that other activity, think about what it is you're trying to create or communicate. Get lost in it. Look at the surroundings -- the trees or sky -- listen to the surroundings -- the birds or a siren or a barking dog -- feel the surroundings -- the grass under your feet or the sweat beading on your forehead.
And then sink into the story.
You'll hit The Zone, I promise.
And when you do, the words will flow.
Number two: If you've told yourself you have writer's block, you're just not writing in The Zone.
Number three: Stop what you're doing to try to force yourself to write. Do something else, completely unrelated.
Number four: Expect the Muse's visit anytime now.
Pretty much, this is what I tell myself every time I'm staring at a blank screen or struggling to put two words together.
There are different reasons we hit that "block." For me as of late, those reasons are related to stress and fatigue. Unfortunately, in our American Puritanical-cultural-way-of-thought, we employ the worst method possible to force ourselves to write: We tell ourselves that we're being lazy if we move to another activity and if we don't SIT THERE until we get our perfect lead or paragraph or story spin.
Pardon the French, but all of that is Bullshit.
I'll tell you a secret about me that may come as a shocker:
My best writing is done while I'm taking a shower.
Or drying my hair.
Or putting on my makeup.
Or sitting at a stop light or in a traffic jam.
Or unloading my dishwasher.
I call this, "hypnotic time," or ... "The Zone."
What is The Zone, exactly?
It's that time of day when you are physically engaged in one activity, but your mind is wandering all over the place. You know what I'm talking about ... You're driving along a road and you hit a stopping point like a busy intersection, and you realize you've been driving along thinking about things. You don't necessarily remember the actual path you took or what was happening around you when you took it, but you successfully drove from Point A to Point B. All the while, you were engaged in something else -- brain matter.
That's The Zone.
Now the secret is ... harness that time. Seize it for yourself.
You DO NOT have to sit in front of a computer screen or at a desk to create. In fact, I think that's one of the worst places to come up with beautiful prose.
There have been plenty of times when I've been under the gun with 13 stories to write in one week, and I'm so tired that I can barely keep my eyes open.
You know what?
If you're in that situation, GO TO SLEEP. Get up 30 minutes later and then do something in The Zone, like ... water your garden. While you are engaged in that other activity, think about what it is you're trying to create or communicate. Get lost in it. Look at the surroundings -- the trees or sky -- listen to the surroundings -- the birds or a siren or a barking dog -- feel the surroundings -- the grass under your feet or the sweat beading on your forehead.
And then sink into the story.
You'll hit The Zone, I promise.
And when you do, the words will flow.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Bread-and-Butter Writing vs. Bliss Writing
Writers often bemoan that they can't get paid to do the type of writing they love to do.
So I have a solution.
Do both.
I call this, "Bread-and-Butter Writing vs. Bliss Writing."
Here's how it works for me: I write for trade magazines. Those stories are my "Bread-and-Butter Writing." Sometimes, the topics I'm covering are less than interesting to the average bear. And that puts the onus on me to make them sparkle as much as possible.
How do I do it?
I do it with my "Bliss Writing."
Besides this blog, I have two others that focus on my Christian faith. In those, I do the research and writing that I love to do. I don't get paid for these blogs, mostly because I feel that if I'm sharing my faith or information about God, I shouldn't make people pay for that.
In addition, I'm working on a novel. Research for that will require travel to Turkey. While I'm researching the novel and studying the Turkish language, I'm also coming up with story lines and the way in which I want to spin my tale.
Now suppose I'm in the middle of a HORRIBLE Bread-and-Butter assignment. I mean, mind-numbing awful. You know the types of stories I'm talking about, right?
Even if I'm on a deadline, I will take a break from my suffering with my Bliss Writing. I'll head over to one of my blogs, or I'll dig up some more novel research. You may think that this takes away valuable time from the matter at hand. But it actually has an opposite effect.
When I focus on the writing I love to do, something happens creatively with me. Truthfully, I don't know if anyone has done a scientific study of this (and if they haven't, they should). But when I dive into the creative story ... suddenly the Bread-and-Butter story takes shape in my mind. Suddenly, I have my lead, my focus, my structure. Suddenly, the words just FLY.
Does it matter that I get paid for my Bliss Writing? I won't lie -- I would love to see my novel published and on book shelves in Barnes & Noble. But life is short! Why not dig into what I love while I also use that same skill to make my livelihood?
We'd all love to write the things we love to write AND get paid for them. But if you want a life where ... say ... you make enough money to travel to Turkey to interview people and research a novel in archaeological digs for a splendorous work of art ... then take the Bread-and-Butter assignments.
Be grateful for them.
And then let your Bliss Writing fuel your Muse. Because I guarantee you, that Muse WILL awaken. The Bread-and-Butter Writing will no longer seem a chore ... but actually, you might be surprised when it transforms into Bliss.
So I have a solution.
Do both.
I call this, "Bread-and-Butter Writing vs. Bliss Writing."
Here's how it works for me: I write for trade magazines. Those stories are my "Bread-and-Butter Writing." Sometimes, the topics I'm covering are less than interesting to the average bear. And that puts the onus on me to make them sparkle as much as possible.
How do I do it?
I do it with my "Bliss Writing."
Besides this blog, I have two others that focus on my Christian faith. In those, I do the research and writing that I love to do. I don't get paid for these blogs, mostly because I feel that if I'm sharing my faith or information about God, I shouldn't make people pay for that.
In addition, I'm working on a novel. Research for that will require travel to Turkey. While I'm researching the novel and studying the Turkish language, I'm also coming up with story lines and the way in which I want to spin my tale.
Now suppose I'm in the middle of a HORRIBLE Bread-and-Butter assignment. I mean, mind-numbing awful. You know the types of stories I'm talking about, right?
Even if I'm on a deadline, I will take a break from my suffering with my Bliss Writing. I'll head over to one of my blogs, or I'll dig up some more novel research. You may think that this takes away valuable time from the matter at hand. But it actually has an opposite effect.
When I focus on the writing I love to do, something happens creatively with me. Truthfully, I don't know if anyone has done a scientific study of this (and if they haven't, they should). But when I dive into the creative story ... suddenly the Bread-and-Butter story takes shape in my mind. Suddenly, I have my lead, my focus, my structure. Suddenly, the words just FLY.
Does it matter that I get paid for my Bliss Writing? I won't lie -- I would love to see my novel published and on book shelves in Barnes & Noble. But life is short! Why not dig into what I love while I also use that same skill to make my livelihood?
We'd all love to write the things we love to write AND get paid for them. But if you want a life where ... say ... you make enough money to travel to Turkey to interview people and research a novel in archaeological digs for a splendorous work of art ... then take the Bread-and-Butter assignments.
Be grateful for them.
And then let your Bliss Writing fuel your Muse. Because I guarantee you, that Muse WILL awaken. The Bread-and-Butter Writing will no longer seem a chore ... but actually, you might be surprised when it transforms into Bliss.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
The Power of Positive People on Your Freelancing Business
During the past couple of days, I've been engaging in an online freelance writers' forum. The person who posted the discussion topic was frustrated with people who would write for a nickel a word.
What poured out from that was a deluge of negativity. People discussed how the economy had affected their ability to land assignments paying a decent wage.
I was surprised by the responses. I've been freelancing solo for 10 years (June is my decade anniversary). I've never been without clients, and I've never worked for anyone who paid me the pittance that was described in that writers' forum.
As I reflected on this last night, I realized the reason I've succeeded:
From the get-go, I surrounded myself with positive people.
These people were writers, journalists, editors ... but they also were friends who were solo entrepreneurs. One is a public speaker, for example. (Denise Ryan of Firestar speaking is a dynamo! To see what I'm talking about, check out her positive site at www.firestarspeaking.com)
And, I made a habit in those early days of attending a local coffee group of entrepreneurs. We were all in different businesses -- from real estate to masseuse professionals. But we all had one thing in common. We were positive that our efforts would succeed. We shared tips on how we grabbed the cream of the customers, while our competition lagged behind with the dregs.
Those people infused me with so much energy and optimism! Back then, I think I realized something without even knowing it -- that successful people will always see the gold in the clouds, while everyone else sees the rain.
Yes, we are in a dire economic period.
But let me tell you some of the things I've survived during the past decade:
Three months after I launched my business, the Twin Towers fell. Talk about a bad time to start!
My former husband was sent to war 3 times.
I had a horrific pregnancy in which I was told 4 times that my child was dead. (He was born healthy.) And 3 weeks after a C-section, I bid adieu to my husband as he crossed the sea to Iraq for several months.
I've gone through four moves since I started my business.
I've had five surgeries in a 7-year period.
Last year, I had to leave my marriage ... for reasons I really can't state here. Suffice it to say, the past 12 months have been nothing short of hell.
OK ... the reason I tell you all of this:
I have never gone for one month without business.
I have the best editors in the world.
I have the best paying-people in the world.
I am surrounded by kind, positive and compassionate professionals.
I talk to people globally for my stories.
I'm able to balance my crazy single-mom-hood status with a full plate of stories. Every month. Every month. Every month.
And on average, I'm paid $1 a word.
Now.
If you listen to people in chat rooms and forums, if you drag yourself into their negativity, guess what? You will be convinced that they're right.
Surround yourself with positive individuals. No, I'm not a Pollyanna. I am a realist. And I am realistically telling you: If you give yourself the gift of positive influence, you will thrive as a freelancer.
Feel free to contact me if you need a boost of energy!
What poured out from that was a deluge of negativity. People discussed how the economy had affected their ability to land assignments paying a decent wage.
I was surprised by the responses. I've been freelancing solo for 10 years (June is my decade anniversary). I've never been without clients, and I've never worked for anyone who paid me the pittance that was described in that writers' forum.
As I reflected on this last night, I realized the reason I've succeeded:
From the get-go, I surrounded myself with positive people.
These people were writers, journalists, editors ... but they also were friends who were solo entrepreneurs. One is a public speaker, for example. (Denise Ryan of Firestar speaking is a dynamo! To see what I'm talking about, check out her positive site at www.firestarspeaking.com)
And, I made a habit in those early days of attending a local coffee group of entrepreneurs. We were all in different businesses -- from real estate to masseuse professionals. But we all had one thing in common. We were positive that our efforts would succeed. We shared tips on how we grabbed the cream of the customers, while our competition lagged behind with the dregs.
Those people infused me with so much energy and optimism! Back then, I think I realized something without even knowing it -- that successful people will always see the gold in the clouds, while everyone else sees the rain.
Yes, we are in a dire economic period.
But let me tell you some of the things I've survived during the past decade:
Three months after I launched my business, the Twin Towers fell. Talk about a bad time to start!
My former husband was sent to war 3 times.
I had a horrific pregnancy in which I was told 4 times that my child was dead. (He was born healthy.) And 3 weeks after a C-section, I bid adieu to my husband as he crossed the sea to Iraq for several months.
I've gone through four moves since I started my business.
I've had five surgeries in a 7-year period.
Last year, I had to leave my marriage ... for reasons I really can't state here. Suffice it to say, the past 12 months have been nothing short of hell.
OK ... the reason I tell you all of this:
I have never gone for one month without business.
I have the best editors in the world.
I have the best paying-people in the world.
I am surrounded by kind, positive and compassionate professionals.
I talk to people globally for my stories.
I'm able to balance my crazy single-mom-hood status with a full plate of stories. Every month. Every month. Every month.
And on average, I'm paid $1 a word.
Now.
If you listen to people in chat rooms and forums, if you drag yourself into their negativity, guess what? You will be convinced that they're right.
Surround yourself with positive individuals. No, I'm not a Pollyanna. I am a realist. And I am realistically telling you: If you give yourself the gift of positive influence, you will thrive as a freelancer.
Feel free to contact me if you need a boost of energy!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Mastering the Motivated Interviewee
Part 4 of this series ...
If someone approaches you and asks you to do a certain story about them, their issue or the person they're representing, it's important that you examine their motive.
Sometimes this type of interview is really quite innocuous. You're covering the local school district, and the PR person requests a story about a kindergarten class that is learning Spanish by emailing pen pals in Peru. Puff pieces like that are no-brainers. Of course, the motive is to garner public support, but the copy is good filler for your publication and a fun story to write at that.
But what I'm talking about are those stories where the motive is a little more fuzzy and where ascertaining it is akin to snatching at vapor.
In those cases, you actually have to work at the article for a while before you really find out what lies beneath the story request. Sometimes, the person does have a valid reason for approaching you: A social injustice has been done, or they really are in the midst of a personal plight that needs to be exposed.
On the other hand ... beware of the glad-hander, the enthusiastic smooth-talker. If you've been a journalist for a while, you know the type of person to which I'm referring. But if you're a novice, the best advice I can give you is to trust your gut when you meet a person like this.
OK, so ... let's look at one example.
When I was at the AP, I covered the state House in Pennsylvania. A politician who was known for his family values platform and was generally well-regarded came into my newsroom one day, personally looking for me. Now this was a red flag. For a politician to seek out a reporter openly? They were hard up to get press. Usually they had "people" to do that for them.
Anyway, this guy was launching an "investigative committee" into organizations that had in the past received strong support from the Legislature.
I have to admit that I was intrigued. Anyone who tosses around the word, "investigative" is either a pit bull looking to expose wrongs -- or someone with a hidden motive to use their power for personal gain.
I started covering these "hearings" and discovered that the "investigation" was on groups like The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. As I listened to more and more of the testimony, it became very clear that this was a Republican legislator who was bent on pursuing his own agenda and using his party's political strength to harass legitimate groups with whom he disagreed.
So I continued to cover the hearings, but behind the scenes I did interviews with those who had been targeted -- and with legislators who disagreed on the premise behind the "investigative committee."
After I wrote up my story, the committee was disbanded.
Now ... was I duplicitous? Yes, I admit it. I was. When interviewing someone who comes to you for a story, sometimes it is necessary to keep your own questions to yourself and mask your skepticism. If you start barraging them with things like, "Why are you doing this?" or, "This smacks of impropriety," you're not going to get anywhere in finding out the truth.
So here's my advice on mastering the Motivated Interviewee:
Play along.
Cover the story.
Don't commit to writing the story, though. Just cover it. See what's going on. Allow the person to lead you through it. If they have people they want you to interview, interview them. Give everyone as much face time as possible. Be enthusiastic when talking to them. Let them go on about whatever it is for as long as they like. You know the phrase about giving someone enough rope to hang themselves? In this case, unfortunately, it applies.
And then ... go find the people who don't agree with what's going on. Find out from them the reason behind the story request.
Always be vigilant about hidden motives. Sometimes, the Motivated Interviewee will be extremely convincing about the justness of their cause. If you're a novice reporter, make sure you discuss all of this with your editors before diving in.
Then trust your gut.
You got into this business for a reason, and if you're like me, it was probably to unearth untruths.
So listen to your instinct.
If, after interviewing the naysayers, you decide this is a worthy cause after all, then pursue it with rigor.
But 9 times out of 10?
You'll discover that the Motivated Interviewee is after one thing:
Personal gain.
And after that, the story will look nothing like the one you thought you were getting.
If someone approaches you and asks you to do a certain story about them, their issue or the person they're representing, it's important that you examine their motive.
Sometimes this type of interview is really quite innocuous. You're covering the local school district, and the PR person requests a story about a kindergarten class that is learning Spanish by emailing pen pals in Peru. Puff pieces like that are no-brainers. Of course, the motive is to garner public support, but the copy is good filler for your publication and a fun story to write at that.
But what I'm talking about are those stories where the motive is a little more fuzzy and where ascertaining it is akin to snatching at vapor.
In those cases, you actually have to work at the article for a while before you really find out what lies beneath the story request. Sometimes, the person does have a valid reason for approaching you: A social injustice has been done, or they really are in the midst of a personal plight that needs to be exposed.
On the other hand ... beware of the glad-hander, the enthusiastic smooth-talker. If you've been a journalist for a while, you know the type of person to which I'm referring. But if you're a novice, the best advice I can give you is to trust your gut when you meet a person like this.
OK, so ... let's look at one example.
When I was at the AP, I covered the state House in Pennsylvania. A politician who was known for his family values platform and was generally well-regarded came into my newsroom one day, personally looking for me. Now this was a red flag. For a politician to seek out a reporter openly? They were hard up to get press. Usually they had "people" to do that for them.
Anyway, this guy was launching an "investigative committee" into organizations that had in the past received strong support from the Legislature.
I have to admit that I was intrigued. Anyone who tosses around the word, "investigative" is either a pit bull looking to expose wrongs -- or someone with a hidden motive to use their power for personal gain.
I started covering these "hearings" and discovered that the "investigation" was on groups like The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. As I listened to more and more of the testimony, it became very clear that this was a Republican legislator who was bent on pursuing his own agenda and using his party's political strength to harass legitimate groups with whom he disagreed.
So I continued to cover the hearings, but behind the scenes I did interviews with those who had been targeted -- and with legislators who disagreed on the premise behind the "investigative committee."
After I wrote up my story, the committee was disbanded.
Now ... was I duplicitous? Yes, I admit it. I was. When interviewing someone who comes to you for a story, sometimes it is necessary to keep your own questions to yourself and mask your skepticism. If you start barraging them with things like, "Why are you doing this?" or, "This smacks of impropriety," you're not going to get anywhere in finding out the truth.
So here's my advice on mastering the Motivated Interviewee:
Play along.
Cover the story.
Don't commit to writing the story, though. Just cover it. See what's going on. Allow the person to lead you through it. If they have people they want you to interview, interview them. Give everyone as much face time as possible. Be enthusiastic when talking to them. Let them go on about whatever it is for as long as they like. You know the phrase about giving someone enough rope to hang themselves? In this case, unfortunately, it applies.
And then ... go find the people who don't agree with what's going on. Find out from them the reason behind the story request.
Always be vigilant about hidden motives. Sometimes, the Motivated Interviewee will be extremely convincing about the justness of their cause. If you're a novice reporter, make sure you discuss all of this with your editors before diving in.
Then trust your gut.
You got into this business for a reason, and if you're like me, it was probably to unearth untruths.
So listen to your instinct.
If, after interviewing the naysayers, you decide this is a worthy cause after all, then pursue it with rigor.
But 9 times out of 10?
You'll discover that the Motivated Interviewee is after one thing:
Personal gain.
And after that, the story will look nothing like the one you thought you were getting.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Mastering the Hard-News Story Interviewee
Part 3 of this series ...
When you're sent out on a tough news story, of course you're going to encounter people who don't want to talk to you.
At all.
So how do you get information from them? Keep in mind these are people who hate to see you coming. They could be politicians hiding something ... victims of a crime or tragedy ... or lawyers or police who are guarding information about their case. You get the idea.
These interviews are not for the faint of heart, and what it comes down to is a psychological war. You, the interviewer, need information. They, the interviewees, are not about to give it to you.
But it can be gotten.
You may think some of these tips are over-the-top simplistic, but believe it or not, this is what worked for me when I was an Associated Press Newswoman:
1) Dress like you mean business. I know, I know, I see the eye rolling right now. But you wouldn't believe how many reporters show up to a story in a pair of jeans and expect people to take them seriously. Whether I was working as a cub reporter and only making $13,000 for the year or was at the top of my game at the AP in Center City Philadelphia ... I dressed to the nines. And it ALWAYS had the desired effect. People want to talk to a professional over a slouch. So be professional. If you're male, wear a tie. Yes. Wear. A. Tie. If you're a woman, get your groove on with those nylons and skirts. Yes. Nylons. And. Skirts. (and heels.)
Listen, I know you think you need to wear that devil-may-care-I'm-a-hot-reporter attitude on your shirt sleeve (literally). But other people just see that as hubris. Get over yourself and dress professionally. Then be surprised at how people will treat you differently when you show up for a quote.
2) Be sincere. I once was assigned a story about the murder of a teenage girl at the hands of her father in the back of their mini van. I'd driven 3 hours to the story in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania, and I didn't even have the house number on the street where it happened. I spent an hour knocking on doors. Finally, a neighbor pointed out the house. As I turned my head, I saw an elderly woman walking down the street with a policeman, and I ran over. I explained I was from the AP and asked for an interview. The woman hesitated and was near tears.
"Listen," I told her. "I'm very sorry for your pain, and I can't imagine what you've endured. You don't have to talk to me."
She stared back into my eyes. "Thank you," she said.
Now if you're an editor reading this, you're thinking, "I'd never hire that girl!"
But that's not the end of the story.
I got into my little car, and because the house was on a dead-end street, I drove to the intersection and parked. And I waited for the police cruiser to leave the house. About 15 minutes later, his black-and-white sedan pulled up to the stop sign. I jumped out of my car and ran into the middle of the intersection, palms up, telling him to stop.
He rolled down the window.
"I need this story," I told him. "I NEED it. Can you help me?"
He smiled at me. "In all of my years as a cop, I've never seen a reporter with compassion like you showed that lady. Here's what I'm going to do. Get your notebook out. I'll give you the names of everyone in town who knew that girl and their phone numbers and where they're located."
He then gave me the goldmine of all goldmines -- each and every person who painted a story that I never would have received ... if I had not been sincere.
3) Be a pain in the ... okay, you know the rest. It's true that you get more bees with honey. But when the honey pot is dry, you have no other choice than to pull out the vinegar bottle. Yes. I could be (and still can be) such a pain that people will beg me to take the information so that I'll leave them alone. How do you accomplish it?
First -- this is assuming that you've already tried the honey route. Always try the honey route first. When you're working the story in "sweet" mode, you are able to glean information, even if it's just bits and pieces. Take those mosaics and start getting your picture together, even if it's not complete. As you work the story throughout the day, you'll find that you'll get some tidbits that hint at impropriety ... or that have a clear-cut window opening to evidence that you know someone doesn't want you to have.
This is where it gets dicey, because now it's time to bluff and bluster.
Suppose you have an interviewee who isn't budging at all on the information you need. After you've assembled these picture pieces and you see your glaring holes, go back to the person.
Tell them: "This is what I know. This is what people have been willing to tell me on the record. We can do this one of two ways. You can fill in the missing pieces for me, and we'll have an accurate story. Or you can withhold from me, and I can print a story that has the following information. (Then tell them what you know.) This information may not paint the story correctly, but I can trust and verify that it's correct. It's up to you on how we tell the story from here on out."
Watch the alarm register on the face.
You'll find that after that, people would rather give you what you're missing than have you print a story where the public derives inferences from what you've independently gathered.
One caveat: In order for this tactic to work, you really do need your ducks in order. You must have verifiable sources, and you must know for a fact that the "mosaic pieces" are definitely connected to the missing pieces. Otherwise, you'll be laughed out of the person's office. However, if you've adequately done your reporting, you'll be seen as a force with which to be reckoned. It may result in getting the missing story pieces off the record. But you can work with that. The point is to get the information you're lacking so that you can unearth the very foundation of your story.
Now what happens if a source approaches you and ASKS you to do a story? Sometimes you need to be careful with that. It's all about ascertaining the motive. Tune in for part 4.
When you're sent out on a tough news story, of course you're going to encounter people who don't want to talk to you.
At all.
So how do you get information from them? Keep in mind these are people who hate to see you coming. They could be politicians hiding something ... victims of a crime or tragedy ... or lawyers or police who are guarding information about their case. You get the idea.
These interviews are not for the faint of heart, and what it comes down to is a psychological war. You, the interviewer, need information. They, the interviewees, are not about to give it to you.
But it can be gotten.
You may think some of these tips are over-the-top simplistic, but believe it or not, this is what worked for me when I was an Associated Press Newswoman:
1) Dress like you mean business. I know, I know, I see the eye rolling right now. But you wouldn't believe how many reporters show up to a story in a pair of jeans and expect people to take them seriously. Whether I was working as a cub reporter and only making $13,000 for the year or was at the top of my game at the AP in Center City Philadelphia ... I dressed to the nines. And it ALWAYS had the desired effect. People want to talk to a professional over a slouch. So be professional. If you're male, wear a tie. Yes. Wear. A. Tie. If you're a woman, get your groove on with those nylons and skirts. Yes. Nylons. And. Skirts. (and heels.)
Listen, I know you think you need to wear that devil-may-care-I'm-a-hot-reporter attitude on your shirt sleeve (literally). But other people just see that as hubris. Get over yourself and dress professionally. Then be surprised at how people will treat you differently when you show up for a quote.
2) Be sincere. I once was assigned a story about the murder of a teenage girl at the hands of her father in the back of their mini van. I'd driven 3 hours to the story in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania, and I didn't even have the house number on the street where it happened. I spent an hour knocking on doors. Finally, a neighbor pointed out the house. As I turned my head, I saw an elderly woman walking down the street with a policeman, and I ran over. I explained I was from the AP and asked for an interview. The woman hesitated and was near tears.
"Listen," I told her. "I'm very sorry for your pain, and I can't imagine what you've endured. You don't have to talk to me."
She stared back into my eyes. "Thank you," she said.
Now if you're an editor reading this, you're thinking, "I'd never hire that girl!"
But that's not the end of the story.
I got into my little car, and because the house was on a dead-end street, I drove to the intersection and parked. And I waited for the police cruiser to leave the house. About 15 minutes later, his black-and-white sedan pulled up to the stop sign. I jumped out of my car and ran into the middle of the intersection, palms up, telling him to stop.
He rolled down the window.
"I need this story," I told him. "I NEED it. Can you help me?"
He smiled at me. "In all of my years as a cop, I've never seen a reporter with compassion like you showed that lady. Here's what I'm going to do. Get your notebook out. I'll give you the names of everyone in town who knew that girl and their phone numbers and where they're located."
He then gave me the goldmine of all goldmines -- each and every person who painted a story that I never would have received ... if I had not been sincere.
3) Be a pain in the ... okay, you know the rest. It's true that you get more bees with honey. But when the honey pot is dry, you have no other choice than to pull out the vinegar bottle. Yes. I could be (and still can be) such a pain that people will beg me to take the information so that I'll leave them alone. How do you accomplish it?
First -- this is assuming that you've already tried the honey route. Always try the honey route first. When you're working the story in "sweet" mode, you are able to glean information, even if it's just bits and pieces. Take those mosaics and start getting your picture together, even if it's not complete. As you work the story throughout the day, you'll find that you'll get some tidbits that hint at impropriety ... or that have a clear-cut window opening to evidence that you know someone doesn't want you to have.
This is where it gets dicey, because now it's time to bluff and bluster.
Suppose you have an interviewee who isn't budging at all on the information you need. After you've assembled these picture pieces and you see your glaring holes, go back to the person.
Tell them: "This is what I know. This is what people have been willing to tell me on the record. We can do this one of two ways. You can fill in the missing pieces for me, and we'll have an accurate story. Or you can withhold from me, and I can print a story that has the following information. (Then tell them what you know.) This information may not paint the story correctly, but I can trust and verify that it's correct. It's up to you on how we tell the story from here on out."
Watch the alarm register on the face.
You'll find that after that, people would rather give you what you're missing than have you print a story where the public derives inferences from what you've independently gathered.
One caveat: In order for this tactic to work, you really do need your ducks in order. You must have verifiable sources, and you must know for a fact that the "mosaic pieces" are definitely connected to the missing pieces. Otherwise, you'll be laughed out of the person's office. However, if you've adequately done your reporting, you'll be seen as a force with which to be reckoned. It may result in getting the missing story pieces off the record. But you can work with that. The point is to get the information you're lacking so that you can unearth the very foundation of your story.
Now what happens if a source approaches you and ASKS you to do a story? Sometimes you need to be careful with that. It's all about ascertaining the motive. Tune in for part 4.
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