Meg Laughlin on reporting from Haiti: “this is the face of the nation now”

St. Petersburg Times reporter Meg Laughlin recently spent eight days in Haiti and the Dominican Republic covering the aftermath of the earthquake. She managed to file a series of short narratives, mostly at the rate of one a day. Earlier this week, she talked with us about finding stories with local elements, using small moments to tell the big story, and the monumental challenge of post-disaster logistics. Here are excerpts from our conversation:

Melissa Lyttle/St. Petersburg Times

Melissa Lyttle/St. Petersburg Times

You’ve done reporting from war zones before, haven’t you?

Yes, Afghanistan and Iraq. I’ve been to Haiti a bunch of times, but not for about 10 years.

How was Haiti the same or different, in terms of the humanitarian crisis versus the war zone?

The magnitude of the disaster and the number of people whose lives were destroyed felt much greater in Haiti. When I was in Iraq and saw so many injured Iraqis, it was very often the U.S. who was injuring them. So there wasn’t that sense of guilt in Haiti, but in other ways it was much worse.

You sometimes offer a small and positive note to end your stories. How do you straddle that line between reporting on the magnitude of the suffering but also offering something else? I’m thinking of the birth of the baby in the story about the missing brother.

I was really happy that that happened the way that it did because I was having trouble seeing my way out of the rubble. That was a moment that helped me to do that.

In reporting on humanitarian crises, sometimes there’s a worry about dulling readers’ response to the survivors by making it seem like they come from the kinds of places where this is just how life is. Did you struggle with that?

I did try to pick really small things to tell the big story. Like the amputations piece—a little girl in a body cast with the lower half of her body crushed putting latex gloves on the feet of the naked Barbie and screaming “Socks!” I was showing that this is the face of the nation now, but let’s look at it with this guy coming from Tampa to find his brother. Let’s look at it through the eyes of this nursing student who’s just had her leg taken off. I don’t know that most of it was very upbeat, but I did try to tell it in a very personal way.

Notable Narrative: Meg Laughlin chronicles survivors’ suffering in Haiti

Our latest Notable Narrative concerns the recent earthquake in Haiti but takes place in a public hospital in the Dominican Republic. St. Petersburg Times reporter Meg Laughlin finds one doctor who has done 22 amputations in two days, and another who says he has done 32 in just one day.

Melissa Lyttle/St. Petersburg Times

Melissa Lyttle/St. Petersburg Times

Many reporters in the region noticed the massive numbers of limbs lost as a result of delays in treating the injured, but Laughlin zeroed in on her subject, did all her reporting and filed her piece in less than one day—and she told it as a story. In just 700 words, she lays out the setting and introduces characters like nursing student Joaz Nancie, who says that cripples are not accepted in Haiti, and that she will not be able to attend school any longer.

We even get a little context, learning about the 19th-century operating conditions and how the medical staff tries to comfort the patients by engaging in wishful thinking about how everyone will eventually get prosthetics. Meanwhile, the noncritical “victims line the entrance on the floor for days.”

Laughlin delivers a true narrative arc, building tension across amputation after amputation, until a 5-year-old girl cries out in an adjacent room. But the resolution Laughlin offers (we won’t spoil it) isn’t a Pollyanna take on the situation as much as it is a hint suggesting just how much suffering Haiti still has ahead of it.

[You can also read our interview with Laughlin, in which she talks about finding and reporting stories in the wake of a natural disaster.]

Dan Koeppel and narrative tension—Popular Mechanics not for the faint of heart

So what do you do if you fall out of a plane at 35,000 feet, as is apparently the case with “How to Fall 35,000 Feet—And Survive” in the February issue of Popular Mechanics? I came across this story on TheBrowser.com and almost skipped it, thinking the “helpful hints for disasters” genre has been done, and overdone.

But reporter Dan Koeppel does virtual disaster very well. It’s tough to use the second person “you” so relentlessly without driving the reader away, but here, details actually draw the audience in, even as they induce panic: “You’ll be unconscious soon, and you’ll cannonball at least a mile before waking up again. When that happens, remember what you are about to read.”

Koeppel uses four scenes, each of which provides backstory and instructions as he counts down the time and distance to impact. His approach is a good reminder of how a tight structure moving toward a focused climax creates urgency.

His upbeat, Heloise-like tone plays against the gruesome information he provides, such as the fact that children have a greater survival rate for big falls, perhaps because their “reduced surface area decreases the chance of impalement upon landing.” From waking up floating in mid-air to a celebratory cigarette on the ground, Koeppel applies a “you can do it—maybe” tone that makes for funny, informative, and nausea-inducing reading all at once. Now where’s that airbag?

Sherman Alexie, Garry Kasparov, The Caravan and more! It’s grab bag Friday…

Take a gander at some of the more interesting writing we’ve seen lately. These pieces are more or less narrative, and come at storytelling from different angles, but are all are worth checking out. 

caravanAn Indian narrative journalism magazine called The Caravan launched this month. Or perhaps re-launched might be the better term, as publisher Delhi Press traces the magazine’s roots to a journal with the same name founded in 1940 by Vishva Nath. The Caravan bills itself as an Indian Granta or Harper’s, and for the cover of its January issue, offers a straightforward but informative story on how the Indian-American community goes about lobbying Washington. Inside is a meditation on Lyari in Karachi written by Fatima Bhutto that made us want more: “The British worked Karachi to the ground, but never to its death.”

What do you do when you’re an MBA who’s having hard luck finding a job? If you’re Don Gould, and you have three kids you’d like to teach about the importance of a work ethic, you start as a bag boy at Publix. But it’s not so simple. From Michael Kruse of the St. Petersburg Times.

If you had won the world chess championship at the age of 22, you would probably have coasted on it for the rest of your life. But you are not Garry Kasparov. Kasparov went on to dominate the world of chess for two decades, and then took up a career in politics as a burr under the saddle of Vladimir Putin. But that is still not enough to keep Kasparov busy, and so here he writes a book review—well, we think it’s a book review, but it’s more about Kasparov going up against ever-better computers as technology has improved and why the focus on supercomputers may be missing the point. Not an intimate narrative voice, but with an opening line about playing chess against 32 computers at once, who can resist? In The New York Review of Books.

After our focus last week on multimedia projects using poetry in journalism, we were thrilled to hear that gifted author Sherman Alexie had dashed off some nonfiction sports poetry in a matter of hours for ESPN, in an effort to get Allen Iverson not to play in February’s NBA All-Star Game in Dallas. (Thanks to Laura Nathan-Garner for spotting this one.) Alexie has long taken an interest in basketball and protested the Seattle SuperSonics’ departure for Oklahoma City mightily, so we will consider this a sort of poetry op-ed. At any rate, we at Storyboard are in favor of Alexie’s newsroom-style spirit and his ability to deliver on a self-imposed deadline. The poem? Not so much. (But you can see the winter issue of Contrary to take a look at some of his more serious work.)

Happy reading!

Yahoo! Sports’ Dan Wetzel on digital narratives: “you’ve got to fight for every reader”

Storyboard contributor (and Charlotte Observer columnist) Tommy Tomlinson recently sent us a link to a sports narrative by Dan Wetzel, describing it as a great example of a story done on deadline. Tomlinson noted the pressures faced by newspaper reporters covering athletic events, adding that Wetzel’s story made him “wonder if newspaper people should change their strategy on this kind of story—maybe do two versions, quick-and-dirty for the paper and in-depth for the Web.”

Dan Wetzel

Dan Wetzel

Wetzel, who is Yahoo! Sports’ national columnist, covered the January 7 BCS National Championship game, in which Alabama beat Texas 37-21. He turned in a well-written tale of two Texas quarterbacks facing defeat, with a wonderful opening scene.

We talked by phone this morning about his column. While a few hours to turn around a narrative piece is hardly a big window, Wetzel felt that he was fortunate to have more time than print reporters in which to write.

During the interview, Wetzel also shared how he found his lede, offered some unofficial rules of sports writing, and highlighted two things necessary for turning out good stories. Here are excerpts from our talk:

When you covered the BCS National Championship game, you focused on the two Texas quarterbacks—a senior and a freshman—who lost the game. At what point did you know that was your story?

You’re allowed to go down the field for the last seven minutes of the game or so. I was standing on the sideline, and the Texas freshman was making a big comeback. It was down there that that I decided that I would probably go with the quarterbacks. But the game fell apart on him, and Alabama ended up winning by a couple touchdowns.

I was debating with myself, because it’s a risk in sports writing to write about the losing team. It’s not an ironclad rule, but you better have something good if you’re writing about the losers. It was right up until the end of the game that I was making sure that was what I wanted to do.

National Book Award winner T.J. Stiles on telling good stories and asking big questions

T.J. Stiles, author of Jesse James: Last Rebel of the Civil War, won a National Book Award in November for his second biography, The First Tycoon: The Epic Life of Cornelius Vanderbilt. In an hour-long interview with Star Tribune (Minneapolis, Minn.) books editor Laurie Hertzel, he talked about the difference between research and investigation, building compelling characters in a work of non-fiction, the rise of e-books, and the importance of story. Here are excerpts:

Your books seem to be both scholarly and populist. The First Tycoon is very readable, and I wondered, was this a conscious decision that you made, and how difficult is it to marry those two?

I believe that there is no reason why we have to sacrifice scholarly standards and investigation for reading pleasure. If we think of the great works of literature, whether they’re fiction or nonfiction, they’re a real treat to read. What I like to do in my writing is to tell good stories and ask big questions. I like to write about the making of the modern world. I want to write books that are about complex characters that tell compelling stories, and I want to give the reader a reason to turn every page.

stiles-tjEven when I’m discussing an issue, when I’m presenting information, my rule is if it’s not advancing the story it doesn’t belong on the page. I don’t want to simply provide information or analysis because I know it. It has to be something that makes the reader think and want to read more. I want it to be a part of a cohesive narrativesomething that is significant and goes to the heart of what this person is all about and what the events are all about.

How—and when—did you determine what your themes would be, what the point of this book would be?

I came in with certain questions, but certain questions presented themselves as I went along. I knew, for example, that I wanted to bring out the drama of this very physical and dramatic life. I knew I wanted to write about the creation of the modern corporate economy.

But there are a number of important themes that I really only discovered in the process of writing the book. One of them is the way in which we think about the role of the government in the economy, and how that’s gone through dramatic changes. That was something that I didn’t anticipate exploring to the extent I did, and yet it was very much what Vanderbilt’s life was about—modern ideas about government regulation and about corporate powers, America’s transition from an 18th century hierarchical society to an individualistic competitive commercial society.

And then one of the larger themes which really speaks to what we’ve been through recently—the way in which economic reality was undergoing an abstraction in the 19th century. The idea of a corporation, and the way that money ceased to be simply precious metal coins and became paper money that was a government-issued marker. Stocks and bonds, and the way the financial markets began to develop—all these were huge changes in American culture and in the way that our minds work. It was a real struggle for people to cope with it and understand it. This was a major theme and it’s still something we struggle with today. I had no idea how topical, how pertinent, how contemporary these themes would be as I was writing the book.

I set out to be true to the work, true to the subject, to carry out my investigation with integrity. I didn’t try to teach lessons to the present. And yet the present sort of imposed itself after I’d completed the book.

Interview: Brenda Ann Kenneally on recording the lives of “Upstate Girls”

Earlier this week, we talked with Brenda Ann Kenneally, an independent photojournalist who chronicles coming of age in post-industrial America. Her project, “Upstate Girls: What Became of Collar City” won first place at the World Press Awards for Daily Life Stories in 2009, and provided the basis for the collaborative multimedia project “Women of Troy,” our latest Notable Narrative. Here, she discusses the “Upstate Girls” project and tells what it was like to let radio producer Lu Olkowski and poet Susan B.A. Somers-Willett come into a community she had been documenting on her own for years.

Before “Women of Troy,” there was “Upstate Girls.” How did “Upstate Girls” get started?

I had been working on a long-term project in my neighborhood called “Money Power Respect,” documenting several families. When the project was excerpted in The New York Times Magazine, they got a writer who also worked in that immersion-style reporting, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc. She’s really terrific. We worked on that together and became very dear friends.

photo courtesy of Brenda Ann Kenneally

photo courtesy of Brenda Ann Kenneally

So when the Times excerpted Random Family in conjunction with its publication, none of the people in the book—although they had been written about extensively—had ever been photographed, and they called me to do it.

I knew about the story, I had read pieces of Random Family, but mostly my connection with Adrian was that we became friends. So I hadn’t read the manuscript in its entirety, and I didn’t realize that the family she followed had moved to Troy.

My father lived around the corner from there. When I left upstate New York—well, I left several times— I had a lot of involvement with the juvenile justice system, and I became an emancipated minor. I hadn’t gone back much.

After I photographed the family for the Times, the book came out, and Adrian moved on. Later, the oldest girl in Random Family called me and said, “One of the girls you met is my girlfriend, and we’re going to have a baby together. Would you like to photograph the birth? By the way, the baby’s father is my cousin, and he’s in jail, and his father is in jail. And so is her father—he’s been in prison her whole life—and so I’m going to step in and be the father.”

I had a conversation with Adrian, because it was her story. So we decided that I would do it, and maybe she would write about it later, maybe not. But that’s how it started. I photographed the birth and then really got to know the family of that girl that actually delivered the baby. That was the girl that made me think, “This was me if I didn’t hitchhike out of upstate New York.” I felt almost drawn back into my own childhood.

Interview: Studio 360’s Lu Olkowski on multimedia, poetry and the working poor

We talked by phone last week with Lu Olkowski, a contributing producer with public radio’s Studio 360 and co-creator of our latest Notable Narrative, “Women of Troy.” Here, Olkowski describes how the Troy story came together and looks at its parent project, “In Verse,” which combines photography, sound and poetry to create a new kind of multimedia.

How did ”In Verse” come to be?

It’s really just a collaboration between poets and photographers and a radio producer—me—to report stories about the working poor. That was the initial idea. The project was conceived in November 2008, which was just about two months into our economic crisis. And there were a lot of stories at that point pulling apart questions like “What are credit default swaps?” And there were a lot of stories and worries about the super-wealthy not being wealthy anymore, and worries about the middle class slipping a notch. The group who created this project thought it was a good opportunity to look at the people getting less coverage—those further down the economic ladder, who’d already been in trouble before the collapse.

olkowskiWhat has your role been in the project?

I created the project with Ted Genoways, the editor of the Virginia Quarterly Review. It came about because I was invited to apply for a grant, the Makers Quest 2.0. The grant itself, from the Association of Independents in Radio, was created to ask individual producers to come up with ideas to lead public radio into a realm of public media.

Everything is melding together—print people and television people. Radio people are often writing for print now in a way they weren’t before. All the media seemed to be getting combined online. They created the grant to give individuals an opportunity to explore, and I was one of eight producers given a grant. I had long loved VQR and had wanted to work with Ted. So when this grant came up, I called him up and said, “Let’s use this as an opportunity to do work together.” He and I had a series of conversations that led to “In Verse.”

He commissions poetry on a regular basis. This seemed like an opportunity to do something he was already doing and to do it a little more deliberately, using more than one medium. So Ted was just huge—he had been thinking about this for a long time. I was lucky enough to see that he had a special idea, and I knew how I could make it work.

Interview: Ted Genoways on journalism and documentary poetry

Poetry may not be the first vehicle journalists come up with when they think of reported stories—in fact, poetry may not be on most journalists’ list at all. Virginia Quarterly Review editor Ted Genoways hopes to change that. In addition to garnering three National Magazine Awards for VQR during his reign, Genoways has a book of poems to his credit. Here, he talks about exploring the intersection of journalism and poetry and recapturing a documentary role for verse.

As editor of the Virginia Quarterly Review, you’ve been making use of poets as reporters for a while. When did you start, and why?

I guess it started semi-formally by sending poets out to do nonfiction pieces. There are a fair number of poets who understand that poetry is not a livelihood and supplement their income by doing other kinds of writing. There were some poets who I felt were excellent reporters—I had used them for nonfiction purposes.

genowaysFrom there it started to make sense to explore the possibility of sending the poets out in the same way but asking them to write poems instead, or as well. After those discussions, Kwame Dawes took it upon himself to write a whole suite of poems based on his trip to Jamaica, looking at living with HIV in Jamaica. Those poems along with the photographs that were shot by Josh Cogan, turned into a remarkable site, www.livehopelove.com, that featured the poetry and included the videos that were shot for “Foreign Exchange” on PBS, the story he wrote for The Washington Post, and the essay he wrote for us. But the poetry is what’s out front.

I thought that the poetry served as a marvelous gateway to a complicated subject—it’s a way to start by humanizing the subject. Kwame’s poems and the outstanding photos served as a great way to draw people in before taking the next step into more complicated policy issues.

Poetry as narrative journalism? You’d be surprised.

When people talk about journalism tottering off into quaint irrelevance, there is a tendency to compare journalism to poetry. In a post this week at PBS Idea Lab, Spot.Us founder David Cohn considers whether journalism, like poetry, might not be sustainable.

Cohn notes that there is nevertheless no shortage of poetry. And it’s true that people are still writing it in droves—as witnessed by the overburdened submission box of at least one literary journal. Slam poetry competitions similarly flourish nationwide.

billie-jean-hillIn addition to serving as paired metaphors for irrevocable decline and financial struggle, however, poetry and journalism can work together in other ways. Poet/journalist James Fenton actually used earnings from his poetry to fund his reporting, which doesn’t seem like a career path most of us could replicate. But sometimes poetry can be a more direct vehicle for narrative journalism.

This week’s Notable Narrative, “Women of Troy” is an innovative multimedia collaboration between poet Susan B.A. Somers-Willett, photographer Brenda Ann Kenneally and radio producer Lu Olkowski. The project documents working-class women of Troy, N.Y., and narrates moments in the women’s lives, from a Flag Day parade to intimate domesticity. Delivering a more nuanced, and lively, picture of the working poor than we often get from journalists, the unusual combination of media helps us see with fresh eyes.