I wrote an article this week about a couch.
Yes, a couch. You could probably say it was the epitome of a “fluff” story, although the couch is anything but fluffy. In fact, that was kind of the point.
The article was a sort of final farewell to the old Ragtag as it moves into its new location. We said goodbye by paying homage to the most notorious couch in the theatre — a lumpy, rust-colored 70s holdout with shredded corners and virtually no cushion left in the seats. To me, the story was kind of a turbo-charged version of the feature journalist’s “show, don’t tell” mantra…although in this case, I’m not talking about a writing technique, but a way of approaching a story. The whole goal I had in mind when I wrote the story was to SHOW readers the closing of a chapter of a well-loved Columbia hot spot’s history by giving them something tangible to read about.
As fate would have it, the mysterious donor of the couch stumbled upon the story. Now, at the bottom of the online version, there’s a blurb with her reaction that also reveals some of the couch’s history before it came to the Ragtag. We even linked to the former owner’s blog. To me, this was a fun example of “fostering community conversation,” and I was really excited to see that such a silly little story made (very small) waves in a few folk’s lives. I was even more excited that those folks told us about those waves.
It’s funny to me, though, how some of the silliest little ideas are the ones I love best. It’s the slice-of-life stuff, the everyday pieces that I’m always most drawn to in any paper. I have classmates, friends, and even best friends, who utterly disagree with me on the merits of a good slice-of-life, “fluffy” feature. One even had to bite her tongue after mentioning she’d read the story. I knew it was because an instinctive rant from the hard-news advocate was soon to follow.
Obviously, hard news is crucial and should be the primary component in any serious publication’s coverage, but when people scoff at alternative stories — ones that put a feature flare on a news story or are simply fun little features on their own — it frustrates me to no end. Because when you dismiss everyday articles that shine the spotlight on REAL LIFE, you’re dismissing the readers. Sure, what’s happening with Capitol Hill, presidential primaries, school board elections and crime statistics…it’s all important. Those stories are vital. But fun, über-local stories about the little things in life are, to me, the articles that best demonstrate we really have our fingers on the pulse of the community. People’s everyday, ordinary lives are worth writing about, too. Should we make a whole paper out of those stories? Of course not. But scoffing at the occasional silly feature and dismissing it as being stupid or fluffy directly insults the readers who see that story and identify with it.
Progress Report:
After several interviews and exhausting background research, I’m ready to sit down and write the Saturday cover story I’ve been preparing for all semester. It’s changed focus quite a bit, but I’m excited about it and think I have a pretty strong angle. Basically, I’m using an extremely unique prehistoric artifact dug up in Missouri almost exactly 50 years ago that is, coincidentally, being featured in an exhibit right now even though it’s usually hidden away from the public eye, as a tool to give people a quick taste of Missouri’s rich pre-history. I think I’ll be really proud of this clip.
Other than that, this week’s progress was mainly embodied in the couch article. I’ve only had three real “clips” so far, but given how much attention I’ve been giving to my other classes and to my long-term story, I’m pretty satisfied. The long-term cover should be wrapped up by the end of next week, leaving me about three-fifths of my semester to focus on producing strong clips on a regular basis.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
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