When feedback zigs instead of zags

Whenever we write, whether we admit it or not, we want to know what people -- could be your editor, could be your source, could be your reader, or any/all of them -- want to think about what we wrote. I started thinking about that this afternoon after I dug around in a couple of notebooks I've used whenever I've gone to a writing seminar and came across some interesting thoughts from Jan Winburn, the great editor formerly with the Baltimore Sun and more recently the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (though I'm not sure she's still there).

At the '99 Nieman narrative writing conference, she talked about a couple of serial narratives the Sun had done. One was on a woman who survived two bouts with cancer and the death of a child, before her illness progressed and she had six months to live. The story was about how she wanted her baby to know who her mom was. Reaction for the first couple days was negative, then turned more positive as the series went on.

And she talked about Ken Fuson's piece on the high schoolers putting on "West Side Story" -- which remains one of the most enjoyable pieces of nonfiction I've ever read -- and she said that the reaction to that was pretty much the same: some negative, some positive.

I'm not saying that's a universal response to narratives, but when readers respond like that, why do you think that is? Do you have stories about reaction like that to a piece you did? What did people like or not like about your piece? How do you deal with negative reaction to a story you believe in?

On the reaction to NYT's David Rohde & 'Held by the Taliban'

If you haven't had a chance to read David Rohde's five-part narrative about his kidnapping by the Taliban and ultimate escape, it's compelling reading -- probably more so because it's so understated (or minimalist, as Nieman Storyboard wrote). The story itself carries the narrative.

If you have read it -- or after you do -- check out the blog where Rohde and the New York Times' editor have been answering questions about the story.

After the first day, I was both fascinated and, I admit, shocked that some people ripped Rohde for any number of things, from trying to interview the Taliban leader who wound up kidnapping him, to writing a five-part series about his ordeal. For example, one wrote of concern that the NYT was publicizing Rohde's "folly" and said, "Shame on the New York Times." Another asked if the NYT would "pay the full cost. Taxpayers should not be burdened with this nonsense."

To their credit, I think, Rohde and Bill Keller take on the questions even-handedly. Reading the blog, then, becomes a valuable lesson in how reporting is done in dangerous situations, in how stories like this are put together, and, perhaps most importantly, in how people react to them, and what they get out of them (and don't), and what that means to those of us who try to do great storytelling.

I doubt we're sending anyone to Afghanistan anytime soon. But we can certainly learn from this piece, and the discussions that are happening on the blog, and apply them to what we do.