Yeah, you know if it's about numbers, it's Joan.
Check out sensibleunits.com next time you're writing a story with measurements or sizes in it.
5,000 tons of recycling collected in a certain local township? Guess what? That's 28 blue whales' worth of recycling.
Someone has driven 8,000 miles on a countrywide trek? That's 29 Grand Canyons long.
One tip - leave out the comma when you type in your number and unit of measurement. Have fun with this... comment and let me know how you put this to use!
Dedicated to creative thinking, deep reporting, great writing and asking: What happened next?
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Jazz up your numbers
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
More 1st person in a story
This from Lon Wagner of the Virginian-Pilot, a really fun read about a big-time guitar collector and his stories. Lon uses first person just in a couple spots. Do you like it, or think the story would have worked just as well done another way?
Friday, June 27, 2008
Use of first person in a story
A friend of mine sent me the link to this ESPN story about Len Bias' death. It's a good read with lots of different story lines intertwined.
The writer uses both "I" and "we" to tell the story, and I couldn't decide if I really liked or really hated his use of the first person.
I'd be curious to see what anyone else thinks about it.
The writer uses both "I" and "we" to tell the story, and I couldn't decide if I really liked or really hated his use of the first person.
I'd be curious to see what anyone else thinks about it.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Video storytelling from NewsTrain
So a bunch of us went to this NewsTrain seminar at PNA Wednesday and Thursday where we were learning the basics of telling stories with video and about other online tools at our disposal. Part of our assignment/duties on Wednesday was to shoot and edit a B-roll to share with the rest of the workshop.
Here's a link to the videos we shot (including an existential visual essay on PennDOT by ex-YDR staffer and sweater-vest supporter Ted Sickler): pnafoundation.ning.com
We'll admit, our efforts are probably a bit... elementary, compared with some of the stuff our photogs and reporters are doing, but in our defense we only had a lunch break to shoot the video.
Here's a link to the videos we shot (including an existential visual essay on PennDOT by ex-YDR staffer and sweater-vest supporter Ted Sickler): pnafoundation.ning.com
We'll admit, our efforts are probably a bit... elementary, compared with some of the stuff our photogs and reporters are doing, but in our defense we only had a lunch break to shoot the video.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
A mania for meaning
I've been meaning to share these two passages from a book I just finished reading that I'd recommend to all of you, "The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer's Block and the Creative Brain," by Alice W. Flaherty:
"The need for narrative, the need to place events in stories, shapes much of our writing and speech. Linking facts into cause-and-effect chains makes them easier for our brains to absorb, making them more memorable for readers and even for the writer. Creating narrative links gives a sense that there are casual chains that will allow us to predict and control events in the future, a sense that is not always true."
"In the end, using writing to give cognitive meaning to events may parallel an equally deep human need, the need to give emotional meaning to an existence that is opaque. The universal desire to feel that life has some purpose is perhaps stronger in writers, whose occupation instills in them a mania for meaning."
(I especially relate to that last line. Weird, huh?)
"The need for narrative, the need to place events in stories, shapes much of our writing and speech. Linking facts into cause-and-effect chains makes them easier for our brains to absorb, making them more memorable for readers and even for the writer. Creating narrative links gives a sense that there are casual chains that will allow us to predict and control events in the future, a sense that is not always true."
"In the end, using writing to give cognitive meaning to events may parallel an equally deep human need, the need to give emotional meaning to an existence that is opaque. The universal desire to feel that life has some purpose is perhaps stronger in writers, whose occupation instills in them a mania for meaning."
(I especially relate to that last line. Weird, huh?)
Quotes
I was putting together some thoughts for YDRU and came across the following quotes. I just like 'em, plus, each of which touch on stuff we've focused on in the last 18 months of writing talk:
"Don't say the old lady screamed -- bring her on and let her scream." -- Mark Twain.
"Don't write about Man, write about a man." -- E.B. White.
"The more personal you are, the more universal you become." -- Donald Murray
"The effort of writing never sucks." -- Ken Fuson
"Don't say the old lady screamed -- bring her on and let her scream." -- Mark Twain.
"Don't write about Man, write about a man." -- E.B. White.
"The more personal you are, the more universal you become." -- Donald Murray
"The effort of writing never sucks." -- Ken Fuson
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Losing the war
So I'm reading "The New Kings of Nonfiction", an anthology of nonfiction pieces compiled by Ira Glass (yeah, yeah, I know I'm always talking about "This American Life") and I really enjoyed this piece by Lee Sandlin called "Losing the War".
I recently interviewed a World War II veteran about his experiences in the war, and found it hard to extract any sort of really gripping or poignant memories from him. Now, that could be just because I'm an out-of-practice reporter, but Plotkin was with me and he tried getting this man to elaborate a little bit more about his feelings and ... nothing.
I wish I had read Sandlin's piece before going into the interview, because I feel like I would've had a better understanding about where this veteran were coming from. In "Losing the War" Sandlin talks about how later generations will never be able to fully understand the terrible experience of World War II, and that the veterans who understand the experience, still, years later, are really just trying to forget. If you're at all interested in writing about the military or war (which I imagine many of us are because of Iraq and Afghanistan) I think this piece is worth checking out. If nothing else, it will give you a bit more insight into the minds' of our vets.
If you're not interested in writing about the military or about wartime, well read it anyway. These are trying times, as journalists we should all be seeking a better understanding for what moves men and nations. And how can you not be engaged with such solid writing? War ends at the moment peace permenantly wins out. Not when the articles of surrender are signed or the last shot is fired, but when the last shout of the sidewalk battle fades, when the next generation starts to wonder whether the whole thing ever really happened.
I recently interviewed a World War II veteran about his experiences in the war, and found it hard to extract any sort of really gripping or poignant memories from him. Now, that could be just because I'm an out-of-practice reporter, but Plotkin was with me and he tried getting this man to elaborate a little bit more about his feelings and ... nothing.
I wish I had read Sandlin's piece before going into the interview, because I feel like I would've had a better understanding about where this veteran were coming from. In "Losing the War" Sandlin talks about how later generations will never be able to fully understand the terrible experience of World War II, and that the veterans who understand the experience, still, years later, are really just trying to forget. If you're at all interested in writing about the military or war (which I imagine many of us are because of Iraq and Afghanistan) I think this piece is worth checking out. If nothing else, it will give you a bit more insight into the minds' of our vets.
If you're not interested in writing about the military or about wartime, well read it anyway. These are trying times, as journalists we should all be seeking a better understanding for what moves men and nations. And how can you not be engaged with such solid writing? War ends at the moment peace permenantly wins out. Not when the articles of surrender are signed or the last shot is fired, but when the last shout of the sidewalk battle fades, when the next generation starts to wonder whether the whole thing ever really happened.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
The William Hung of his time?
You might remember William Hung, who rode one of the worst American Idol auditions to that bizarre sort of fame that the world confers on spectacular failures these days.
Well, today's Wall Street Journal has one of those unexpected good reads that are so fun to find. The tone seems just right for the subject matter, and he makes use of a pretty good quote. Here's the beginning of Alistair Macdonald's story:
EDINBURGH, Scotland -- Like many poets, William Topaz McGonagall struggled for his art. Against all odds, and despite evidence to the contrary, the former weaver spent more than two decades in the late 19th century trying to prove he was a literary genius. His recitals attracted crowds that came to mock, heckle and throw rotten fruit at the man who was known as the world's worst poet.
On Friday, though, at an auction house here in his birthplace, Mr. McGonagall was having the last laugh. In a tangible expression of how his work has come to be valued since his death as a pauper in 1902, an anonymous buyer paid £6,600 (or $13,200) for 35 broadsheets of his original poems -- a large chunk of Mr. McGonagall's oeuvre of about 200 works. The price put him in a league with some of Britain's most famous authors. It was $1,200 more than was bid at the same auction for a collection of Harry Potter first editions signed by J.K. Rowling -- and much more than a set of first editions of Sir Walter Scott, a wildly popular writer during Mr. McGonagall's time.
"Despite his ability to massacre poetic metaphor, his taste for banality, a weak vocabulary and his tortuous rhymes, his popularity has outlived many of his then-respected contemporaries," said Alex Dove, a specialist in books at Lyon & Turnbull, where the auction was held.
The auction reflects the unique brand of celebrity that has fallen upon Mr. McGonagall.
For the rest of the story, Google the poet's name and click on the WSJ story. Otherwise you get caught up in the WSJ's "you must subscribe to get the rest of the story" pitch.
Well, today's Wall Street Journal has one of those unexpected good reads that are so fun to find. The tone seems just right for the subject matter, and he makes use of a pretty good quote. Here's the beginning of Alistair Macdonald's story:
EDINBURGH, Scotland -- Like many poets, William Topaz McGonagall struggled for his art. Against all odds, and despite evidence to the contrary, the former weaver spent more than two decades in the late 19th century trying to prove he was a literary genius. His recitals attracted crowds that came to mock, heckle and throw rotten fruit at the man who was known as the world's worst poet.
On Friday, though, at an auction house here in his birthplace, Mr. McGonagall was having the last laugh. In a tangible expression of how his work has come to be valued since his death as a pauper in 1902, an anonymous buyer paid £6,600 (or $13,200) for 35 broadsheets of his original poems -- a large chunk of Mr. McGonagall's oeuvre of about 200 works. The price put him in a league with some of Britain's most famous authors. It was $1,200 more than was bid at the same auction for a collection of Harry Potter first editions signed by J.K. Rowling -- and much more than a set of first editions of Sir Walter Scott, a wildly popular writer during Mr. McGonagall's time.
"Despite his ability to massacre poetic metaphor, his taste for banality, a weak vocabulary and his tortuous rhymes, his popularity has outlived many of his then-respected contemporaries," said Alex Dove, a specialist in books at Lyon & Turnbull, where the auction was held.
The auction reflects the unique brand of celebrity that has fallen upon Mr. McGonagall.
For the rest of the story, Google the poet's name and click on the WSJ story. Otherwise you get caught up in the WSJ's "you must subscribe to get the rest of the story" pitch.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Choose your words carefully
Eugene wrote a story in Monday's paper using a news release and one interview. Because of his use of strong verbs -- tilting, spat, prodded, grappled, for example -- and other description, the story had more life than it might otherwise have had. It's an example of why word choice matters, even if it's in a short daily piece.
How did he come by those strong verbs?
When Eugene interviewed Richard Sullivan, the man who was attacked, he was standing in the doorway where Sullivan's cousin, the alleged attacker, had stood hours before. Eugene asked Richard to act out what had happened.
When Richard moved his hands in a certain way to imitate the clash, Eugene thought of wrestling, and thus, "Sullivan reached for the shotgun and grappled with his attacker ..."
When Richard showed how he went for the gun, Eugene thought first to say he "pushed" it away, but chose instead "...tilting the mouth" of the gun because Sullivan described the action as more instinctive than intentional, so "pushed" seemed too strong and "tilting" seemed right. (I would add that when I read "tilting" I think "tilting up," whereas "push" could be in any direction.
When Eugene described the gun going off, he first wrote that it "let out a round," then thought of his description of the "mouth" of the gun and chose "spat" to go along with that.
Those kinds of choices, in any kind of story, make for stronger writing. There are many examples of this in our paper, and I salute anyone who puts this kind of thought into picking just the right word for what you're trying to say.
How did he come by those strong verbs?
When Eugene interviewed Richard Sullivan, the man who was attacked, he was standing in the doorway where Sullivan's cousin, the alleged attacker, had stood hours before. Eugene asked Richard to act out what had happened.
When Richard moved his hands in a certain way to imitate the clash, Eugene thought of wrestling, and thus, "Sullivan reached for the shotgun and grappled with his attacker ..."
When Richard showed how he went for the gun, Eugene thought first to say he "pushed" it away, but chose instead "...tilting the mouth" of the gun because Sullivan described the action as more instinctive than intentional, so "pushed" seemed too strong and "tilting" seemed right. (I would add that when I read "tilting" I think "tilting up," whereas "push" could be in any direction.
When Eugene described the gun going off, he first wrote that it "let out a round," then thought of his description of the "mouth" of the gun and chose "spat" to go along with that.
Those kinds of choices, in any kind of story, make for stronger writing. There are many examples of this in our paper, and I salute anyone who puts this kind of thought into picking just the right word for what you're trying to say.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Storytelling on a map
This is fiction, but check it out and you can see how we could use it, or something like it, to tell a true story.
Imagine a police chase rendered like this.
Imagine a feature story about a well-traveled pro baseball player rendered like this.
Imagine a story about a relief mission to New Orleans rendered like this.
Other possibilities....?
Imagine a police chase rendered like this.
Imagine a feature story about a well-traveled pro baseball player rendered like this.
Imagine a story about a relief mission to New Orleans rendered like this.
Other possibilities....?
Labels:
fiction,
inspiration,
maps,
mashups,
storytelling
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)