Paul Raeburn, Ira Glass, and just some of the ways a story can go wrong

Yesterday, Paul Raeburn at the Knight Science Journalism Tracker took the stuffing out of a New York Times medical piece. The story, by Gardiner Harris, reveals a secret recording of a 2007 meeting between a cardiologist and executives at a pharmaceutical company. Raeburn dinged it for both structure and content, writing that “sometimes a poorly organized story is a reflection of reporting that doesn’t have much to tell.”

Looking a little more at the article, it seems like Raeburn’s critique about organization has a point. The story moves back and forth between 2007, 2004, the present, last week, and the future in a way that makes it hard to know where to stand to get a view of events. Which, in turn makes it harder to understand what the news, or even the story, is.

While the Times piece is only quasi-narrative, knowing what your story is and how to organize it go to the heart of narrative nonfiction. Randy Olson, a scientist turned filmmaker who writes at TheBenshi.com, had an interesting post on this idea this week. He interviewed Tom Hollihan of the USC Annenberg School for Communication about science and storytelling. While the interview focuses on scientists rather than journalists, Hollihan’s thoughts are universally applicable.

glass-iWhen it comes to your audience, says Hollihan, “You want to pique their interest, and you want to satisfy that interest that you’ve piqued. And if you fail in either regard, you haven’t had an effective message.” He goes on to say that without a coherent story to knit them together, facts sometimes have a hard time conveying an argument.

Ira Glass’ YouTube storytelling segments address some of the same issues more directly for journalists. In his first video, Glass introduces two building blocks of story: anecdotes and moments of reflection. He demonstrates how even boring events can gain momentum through anecdotal storytelling and explains the need to offer insight on why the story matters.

“Often, it’s your job to be kind of ruthless and to understand that either you don’t have a sequence of actions—you don’t have the story part that works—or you don’t have a moment of reflection that works,” says Glass. “You’re going to need both. And in a good story, you’re going to flip back and forth between the two.”

Even veteran storytellers have to keep these issues in mind. It’s easy to get so carried away with the narrative in your head, the one you know backward and forward, that you forget to leave a path for the reader to get through the story.

[*To be fair to the Times, we should note that Science Tracker gave kudos to two other health stories from the paper this week, including a interesting multi-part narrative by Amy Harmon on an experimental cancer drug.]

Narrative nonfiction events and conferences–is there something here for you?

While tracking digital narrative experiments, we at Storyboard also aim to keep readers informed about the world of traditional print narratives. Today we’ve compiled a list of upcoming events for fans who want to hear from classic storytellers or learn elements of craft. Here are just a few of the opportunities available, in chronological order:

The Society of Professional Journalists is hosting one-day workshops with Tom Hallman, who will address not just long-form narrative but also how to “apply narrative techniques to your daily reporting.” (For a sample of his thinking on story, check out our Storyboard post by Hallman.) He’ll be at the University of Maryland, just outside Washington, D.C., on April 3 and at Santa Clara University in Santa Clara, Calif., on May 8.

muse-marketplaceBoston will host two events in close succession. “The Power of Narrative: Timeless Art in an Urgent Age,” will take place April 23 – 24 at the Boston University Photonics Center and will include veteran storytellers Gay Talese, Adam Hochschild, Buzz Bissinger and Isabel Wilkerson, among many others. As of this morning, online registration was not yet in place, but a list of presenters and conference fees is available.

Grub Street will host “The Muse and the Marketplace 2010” conference May 1-2 at the Boston Park Plaza Hotel. Listed sessions embrace a mixed group of writing styles and genres but will offer writers Jennifer 8. Lee, Michael Downing, and Pablo Medina, as well as a discussion of the current nonfiction market.

Lastly, this summer, you can head south for the Mayborn Literary Nonfiction Conference taking place July 23 – 25 in Grapevine, Texas. Conference keynoters include memoirist Mary Karr, sports writer Gary Smith and journalist Mark Bowden. See this year’s conference schedule, and read our wrapup of last year’s sessions. Registration will open later this month.

All of the above, excepting the Boston University event, list participatory sessions and opportunities to get feedback on your work as part of their schedules. So if you’re interested in classic storytelling, have a look.

Rick Moody’s “Amazing Tale” invites readers to step right up

Our latest Notable Narrative plays a wonderful game of fulfilling expectations in surprising ways. In the January 2010 issue of Details, Rick Moody’s “The Amazing Tale of the High School Quarterback Turned Lesbian Filmmaker” uses a bait-and-switch approach to write about a transgendered person on the verge of attending her 20th high school reunion.

The McKerrow Brothers

The McKerrow Brothers

The title evokes a tradition in which sideshow oddities and wonders are used to titillate readers and draw them in, a tradition not entirely unfamiliar to journalists. Novelist and blogger Moody slides elegantly into his story, using “us” in the first paragraph to join the crowd of readers watching what will happen as Kimberly Reed meets up with Paul McKerrow, her high school identity.

Moody later cuts to the first person (“let me pause to observe”) when recording his personal reaction to Reed’s beauty. This clever move offers a hint that we might want to check our own responses.

It turns out that two McKerrow children graduated in the class of 1985—Paul (now Kimberly) and her brother, Marc, who was adopted. Adding another layer of tension to the upcoming reunion, Moody relates that early challenges and a later accident have made Marc’s life even more complicated than Kimberly’s. Combining surprise links to Hollywood royalty with Mark’s ongoing efforts to handle everyday life, Moody shows us how identity is both changing and fixed, and how the boundary between the very strange and the absolutely normal may not exist.

As the story turns back to the high school reunion, Moody manages to draw all his elements together and make each part relevant. The piece reveals a different kind of spectacle than readers might have tuned in for, yet more of a reunion in every sense of the word: a meeting, an encounter with the past, a family gathering, a making whole of the self.

[Prodigal Sons, Kimberly Reed's award-winning film about her family life, will be shown in a number of U.S. cities in the coming months.]

The Small Story: long live the community-minded newspaper narrative

Cara Solomon sweats the small stuff.

After a failed career as a television news intern and eight successful years as a print reporter, Solomon left her newspaper job on the West Coast to return home to Boston. Holding down a day job as an editor of a start-up Web site, she began to devote her free time to blogging at The Small Story.

solomon-cAs a reporter for The Seattle Times, Solomon wrote small-focus narratives about everything from displaced survivors of Hurricane Katrina to ”Flash Mob” kissing. The Small Story has a similar bent, centering on “the lives of everyday people in Massachusetts—the challenges they face, the celebrations they make, and the communities they like to call home.”

Solomon has found most of her subjects herself but notes that on occasion, someone will give her a tip, which is how she found our personal favorite on the site. “Low Price Lenny” recounts details of the 2009 Ms. Senior Sweetheart pageant and the kazoo-carrying businessman who founded it. Solomon told us via email that she found Lenny via by posing her favorite question:  “Who’s the most interesting, un-famous person you know?”

Only one or two narratives appear each month, and some months have been skipped altogether. “It’s my own labor of love,” Solomon says, noting she’s a Lone Ranger on the project for now (she hopes to involve other journalists and photographers in the future).

The site bills itself as “a slower-paced look at the everyday people who make up America.” And though the stories are created for digital consumption, there’s something nicely newspapery, even retro, about Solomon’s voice and her subjects. Perhaps it’s the narrow focus or the optimistic bent, but maybe it’s just the small story that likes to stay small.

Peggy Nelson on new media narratives: “Every Twitter account is a character”

We talked this week with Peggy Nelson, a new media artist who has spent the last several years doing digital and virtual storytelling. While Nelson’s work is rooted in conceptual art rather than journalism, she has created stories in nearly every medium, including some we hadn’t thought of (like PowerPoint and iPhone Apps). Nelson came to our attention when she presented in January at the Boston Bookfuturists Meetup. In these excerpts from our talk, she discusses Twitter novels, the core elements of story, and how journalists can most effectively use social media.

nelson-pHow would you describe what you do?

I do new media art with a focus on decentralized, episodic storytelling—I’m thinking of the things I’ve done very recently, which are the Twitter projects @adelehugo and @enoch_soames. And I’ve done some what I guess you would call walking tours with augmented reality that either involved sound pieces or 2D barcodes, where you take a picture with your phone and then it brings up a web page depending on where you are. It weaves itself together into a kind of a narrative. I’ve done that in Boston and Nevada and a couple of different places. So they’re all stories told in little bits at a time, with a lot of gaps.

You’ve worked on stories in just about every medium—even PowerPoint. How do you think about the idea of story?

I’ve always been a lover of anecdote and telling a good tale at a cocktail party or family Thanksgiving. I’m attentive to oral tradition, making that as good as it can be. But that feeds into the fact that I’m the kind of person who walks around, and in my head, I’m captioning things. I see a funny thing, and I come up with a one-liner to describe it.

If I had worked at a newspaper back in the day, my ideal job would have been to write the comments under the pictures. I don’t know if it even was a separate job, but I would have been a caption writer. So these two strains appear in my life and my personality: the raconteur/tale-teller and the captioning person. The reason I’m drawn to experimental storytelling is that it brings those two things together.

Boston Bookfuturists look at mapping, charting new narratives

Continuing the “future of narrative” theme for this week, today we look at some of the experimental stories discussed at the first-ever Boston Bookfuturists Meetup on January 29, hosted by Joanne McNeil of Tomorrow Museum. Nieman Lab director Josh Benton attended and brought back some links to interesting new approaches to narrative.

bookfuturistsThe discussion touched on “Mr. Plimpton’s Revenge,” created by veteran creative nonfiction writer Dinty W. Moore. Moore uses Google Maps to pinpoint the locations of a series of meetings with George Plimpton, including a short description for each encounter. The account straddles the line between being a series of funny anecdotes and a true narrative, with the visual component of the map creating a sense of time and distance between each encounter.

Moore’s piece recalls “Hard Times” from The Washington Post’s Travis Fox, who crossed the country before the 2008 presidential elections to record how economic challenges were or weren’t affecting people’s political sensibilities. “Hard Times” uses also uses Google Maps and provides brief text at each mapped point, along with short, semi-narrative articles and video or still images. Fox, who is now teaching a Multimedia Storytelling class at Columbia University, made frequent use of interactive maps for many of his Post projects, including “Crisis in Darfur Expands” and “Mexico at War.” (At present, the latter doesn’t seem to be working quite right in Explorer or Chrome.)

Bookfuturists also mentioned David Nygren’s spreadsheet narrative “Under the Table.” Nygren’s short story breaks down each element in a traditional piece of fiction, organizing it into columns of action, spoken dialogue, and internal thoughts for each character. In a post on The Urban Elitist, Nygren explains his strategy and links to the story, which is available as an Excel or Google spreadsheet, or as a table in Word. One of Nygren’s readers has dubbed this version of storytelling “novexcel.”

The novexcel seems to be a cousin of the much-discussed charticle, but offers several layers of information at once. The story can be read left to right and down the page, as with traditional text narratives, but it can just as easily be scanned for just one element—a single character’s thoughts or the physical events that take place. This approach brings to mind Scott Carney’s “Cutthroat Capitalism” project for Wired, which we featured last fall. The Wired story spreads a bare-bones narrative arc across several tables and presents more elegantly in terms of design, but Nygren’s spreadsheet approach draws all the story elements into a single place for readers.

It may not yet be obvious how journalists can fully exploit the possibilities, but it’s clear that a lot of interesting experiments are underway. For more on new media narratives, read our interview with Bookfuturist presenter Peggy Nelson, who takes elements from literary history and uses them to construct new stories on Twitter, Vimeo and lots of other places.

How are you doing? Laura Mayer shares the stories that rise out of small talk

Storyboard is always looking for new approaches to storytelling that could be useful for journalists, so we were curious when a reader sent us a link to the How Are You Doing project, which invites people to call a 1-800 number and leave a message about, well, how they’re doing. Laura Mayer, a recent graduate of the Medill School of Journalism and the brains behind the hotline, listens to the messages and assembles podcasts, many of which are seasonal (just think about how loaded that question can be at tax time or Thanksgiving). Here she talks with us about the value of the human voice, curating content to shape the arc of an episode, and whether her project represents the surrender to the mundane that some people see in Twitter and Facebook.

how-are-you-doingHow would you categorize How Are You Doing?

I would call the How Are You Doing project an audio art project. There’s a lot of technical elements, and some sound mixing you don’t usually hear in regular radio—whatever that is. But also I think it’s an art project that considers how we talk to each other on a daily basis. There’s a magic and beauty in small talk. In that way this project also brings to the fore things that you otherwise wouldn’t consider special until you sit down, listen and think about them.

How long have you been doing it?

It’s actually going to be the year anniversary on February 13th. So, one year.

How did you come up with the idea for the project?

Last year I was a senior in college and had just started working in an office environment and got into being a small talker in earnest. It occurred to me how much of our days are small talk and how rarely we really sit down to listen to one another. I remember one day I particularly didn’t feel like going to work,  looking in the mirror and thinking, “If someone were to ask me how I were doing today, I would totally shut them down. I wouldn’t feel like listening to them or saying anything to them that was meaningful.” And then I really started thinking about “How are you doing?” as more than a filler phrase.

That night, I came home and realized it would be easy to set up one of these toll-free hotlines. So I had the idea and set it up in the course of a day.

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?