In social media, patience is spelled with five W's

(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, a blog on freelancing by the Society of Professional Journalists.)

In a perfect world, our words shine like jewels the first time we write or say them.

The reality is, they demand special consideration before displaying them in public. For one thing, so many terms in English have multiple meanings; for another, so many readers own distinct perspectives and biases. Ask 10 people to read the same sentence, and they’re likely to offer 10 slightly different interpretations.

That’s why, in our electron-fast, social media age, extra seconds spent pondering our pedantry before tapping the Send button can prevent embarrassment and thus preserve credibility.

So, at a time we’re still weighing New Year’s resolutions, or wondering whether to uphold the ones we’ve made, consider putting patience high on the list. Armed with it, writers and editors more easily catch spelling errors, check or recheck facts, change tone, even adjust attitudes — particularly their own.

The trick, of course, is finding patience where none existed. Hours spent banging out social media posts as fast as they come to mind can cultivate writing that’s reflexive, not reflective.

It may help then to install social media speed bumps of a sort — a set of objectives that forces introspection. For this, we could adapt journalism’s famous five W’s:

Who — Think first, “Who am I trying to reach?” Though social media networks permit users to group their followers, most users don’t, and their networks are a mishmash of friends, colleagues and acquaintances. The result: just one post intended for a small group of followers could send others packing. Craft posts with the broadest possible appeal, frame edgier posts with self-effacing humor or courtesy, and restrict the hardest commentary to direct messages.

What — Make sure the point of a post is clear and consistent with the facts. Go back through other people’s posts, check associated Web links and references to see whether those people are interpreting the information correctly, and whether you’re doing the same and not relying on conjecture. Only then can you safely answer the question, “What am I trying to say?”

When — Speed is a drug in social media; we assume the faster we post, the more certain we are to ride the leading edge of news. Blame this behavior in part on traditional media, which instilled the belief that “scoops” or “beats” on breaking news were just as important as the information itself. In truth, no newspaper shut down and no TV station went dark from not having enough scoops. Today, the Web is rife with humor and shame over errors by news organizations that moved too fast to gather facts. Thus, the answer to “When should I post?” ought to be, “After I have all the facts.”

Where — The term “social media” is as broad as the horizon. It encompasses numerous networks, each having its own best practices and tolerances. Still, we consider Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter and others to possess the same reach and intent. But there’s a saying: Facebook is for people you already know, Twitter is for people you want to know, and LinkedIn is for people you need to know. Learn the point and purpose of each social network, then you’ll be able to answer “Where should I post?”

Why — I’d like to think everything I say via social media is important. We all do. Nevertheless, each of us encounters users who think otherwise. That constituency dwindles though with solid answers to “Why should I post?” Whereas flippant or rhetorical commentary only attracts more of the same, social engagement founded on research and reportage is shared and re-shared more widely. 

The secrets of great journalism

Recently, I was invited to speak to journalism students at Francis Howell Central High School near St. Louis about the lessons journalism serves up outside the classroom. Here, then, is the presentation I gave, listing practical advice over book-learning:

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Journalists, watch what you say in Charlotte

A reminder to journalists covering the Democratic National Convention in Charlotte, N.C., this week: Watch what you say.

The urge to step outside of your professional selves and wax opinionated will be strong, thanks to the polarized political air filling the convention arena, but also because of electronic media’s rising demands that journalists discard attempts at objectivity to distinguish their brand — the new watchword in digital engagement.

Yield to temptation this week, and risk winding up like David Chalian, former Washington bureau chief for Yahoo and now a likely case study at j-schools and multimedia labs everywhere.

Chalian was about to be interviewed by ABCNews.com at the Republican National Convention in Tampa, Fla., last week regarding Hurricane Isaac’s turn away from Florida toward New Orleans and the potential effect of that change on the delegates’ discourse, and was caught on an open microphone implying GOP presidential nominee Mitt Romney’s campaign was indifferent to specific persons in the storm’s projected path.

“Feel free to say: They’re not concerned at all,” Chalian was heard advising someone with ABCNews.com. “They are happy to have a party with black people drowning.”

What followed was another kind of storm led by Yahoo’s immediate firing of Chalian and subsequent apology to Romney’s campaign, saying the remark “was inappropriate and does not represent the views of Yahoo.” A crowd of journalists and pseudo-journalists immediately added their voices to the maelstrom, alternately defending and admonishing Chalian and Yahoo, and raising debate over the value of opinion in news reporting.

The debate becomes acute in Charlotte, and may turn the convention’s attention more toward media than politics. One side says broadly that a journalist’s opinion adds perspective and humanizes reporting; the other side insists it disrupts a delicate balance in otherwise non-partisan or non-advocacy news coverage. At the least, both sides say, voicing an opinion makes clear what journalists are thinking and rationalizes their behaviors.

All this has put journalists and their audiences on the defensive, and creates the perception that journalists in general lack judiciousness. Critics categorize them as “left” or “right” of reality, though the critics often exist in their own reality. Add to this the general vilification of facts central to any wisdom, especially if those facts cant perceptibly in particular direction, and the journalist’s goal of objective, unbiased reporting becomes practically impossible.

Mind you, objectivity is only a goal, and a tough one at that. The lesson I learned on this was simple enough: A j-school professor once gave my class a list of information on a mimeographed sheet and asked us to write a news story based on just those printed details. Toward the hour’s end, he read out loud the first few paragraphs of 10 completed stories. Not one was written exactly the same way. Were everyone in class absolutely objective, none of the stories would have been different.

That’s because we all are prisoners of perspective, with frames of reference adjusted for slightly different focuses. Journalists, however, are charged with adjusting their focus to see the root causes of action or inaction. The trained journalist is inculcated like a scientist — examining and re-examining theories and testing the veracity of each. Sure, opinions matter even in science, as nobody wants, say, doctors who can’t relate to patients because their judgments are limited to what they’ve read in medical journals.

But everyone in Charlotte at the DNC this week will have an opinion. The real news will be the facts plucked from this made-for-TV sea of subjectivity. 

Decades ago, those who owned the presses directed every ebb and flow of public opinion. This control persisted until the public’s trust was broken. The Bay of Pigs, the Gulf of Tonkin incident, the Pentagon Papers leak, Watergate — these all helped reinforce the importance of unbiased news media in curtailing government and institutional injustice.

Today, when so many people are ready to weigh opinions as facts, and legitimacy is quantified in decibels, journalistic objectivity and restraint still shine like diamonds in a coal mine and remain the best measures of professionalism. That’s why journalists should mind their words while in Charlotte, or risk looking like charlatans.

 

'Pay for praise' undermines journalism's credibility

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The crisp suits and tuxedos are put away, the gowns and evening dresses are hung as well. America’s journalists have packed their finest threads for another year, and the shining plaques and embossed certificates that prompted such fashion displays are already up on shelves, bookcases and desktops across this wide nation.

This is because journalism’s two-month season of giving itself awards recently ended; everything from Pulitzers to proclamations went out in rapid order, ranging in purpose from national recognition to just a pat on the back. It’s an unabashedly narcissistic season in which we journalists look back at our work to see what we did best, or did right, this past year, and try to justify among ourselves the value and importance of it.

Absent unimpeachable proof from our readers and viewers that they think we’re doing the right thing, it’s the optimum means of self-gratification available to us.

And yet, the implied veracity has come into question with me. Thanks to a particular incident, I wonder, especially now, how many of those honors truly recognized laudable effort — or whether they are the result of cash guarantees.

I didn’t use to wonder. As president of the St. Louis Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists, part of my responsibility has been to assist other SPJ chapters in evaluating submissions for their annual awards, so they could avoid the appearance of currying favors from friends and colleagues. To juxtapose even more space between thought and deed, SPJ urges contest administrators to seek that assistance well away from their chapters’ membership areas. The closest chapter I assisted this year was a six-hour drive from me.

This year, my third consecutive as a judge, I volunteered to assess submissions for five different competitions — one of them national and four regional, or two more competitions than last year. Looking back, I’m sure though that one of those chapters won’t ring up my number again.

Before the explanation, a little background: Besides recognizing excellent work and stroking egos, awards contests can rake in a lot of money. Organizers often attach entry fees per submission, ranging from a few bucks to tens of dollars, ostensibly to offset administrative costs but also to generate operating funds for the chapters. For example, imagine a particular award category attracts two dozen entries. Charging $10 per entry nets a fast $240 in pocket for a chapter before even the invitations go out.

Multiply that by, say, 80 categories spread across the spectrum of print, televised and digital media, and the chapter is looking at potentially thousands of dollars to not only spend on impressive looking plaques and certificates to hand out at tony venues where food is served and fashions much nicer than office wear is de rigueur, but also bank a few bucks for other special events, scholarships and professional training. 

This kind of thing is not unique to journalism; awards are handed out in much the same way across the scope of professions, each with its own rationale for assessing fees. One would think though that journalism, prominent among them, eschews guarantees of praise to go with those payments, if only to ensure the notion that its award-giving smacks of the same objectivity attempted in its news coverage.

Think again. As my award-judging obligation wound down I received an email from a contest organizer who was dismayed with my selections — not so much regarding my overall judgment as the lack thereof for a handful of categories. In other words, where I judged the entries to be wholly substandard, I left the category blank, ensuring no award.

“Perhaps I was unclear in my instructions, and for that I apologize,” the contest organizer wrote to me about a week after I made my choices. “These entrants paid the submission fee. We should show that they are getting something for their fee.”

Absent that, he continued, they may decide to not make submissions for future contests. And we need the money; the awards are central to our fundraising efforts.

I tried to shore up my position by reminding him that the five reporting categories I left blank had just one or two entries total for three potential awards — first, second, third and honorable mention — and that the entries themselves were laughably far off the award-winning mark: unenterprising, perhaps culled from batch-distributed public relations announcements and devoid of sourcing that might prove to me the reporters attempted to verify a shred of their PR content. In a couple instances, what struck me was that the florid wording of the original PR release had oozed through into the story.

Granted, I was not certain of the story origins. But after 30 years in this business, much of it spent coaxing good writing from bad, I have come to recognize patterns of writing, and that recognition is fairly bankable.

The awards organizer, perhaps immune to my argument, graciously deflected my concern.

“We appreciate your time and effort,” he wrote back. “Please send back the entries you judged for the categories in question, and we’ll have the awards committee review your decisions.”

I did as advised, and a few weeks later I checked the contest website for the results. Sure enough, there were the categories I had judged and left blank newly filled with winners in each and with carefully worded platitudes attached. The circle of this particular contest remained unbroken, no matter my noble intent.

Maybe I’m may be part of a dwindling contingent that believes awards and honors should recognize true exceptionality. The Pulitzer committee, at least, is a member of this group, charging $50 per Pulitzer-prize entry while not at the same time issuing awards like a supermarket coupon dispenser. That entry fee opens the door to contestants; it doesn’t ensure them one of the silver-and-gold medallions.

When any of us promise awards for the price of entry, no matter the profession, we cheapen not just the award but also the work it was intended to honor. The organizers for all journalism awards need to keep that in mind, lest their efforts to distribute praise and bolster funds also chip away the foundation of journalism’s credibility.

Nuance matters in shooting video

(This post first appeared in the May/June 2012 issue of Quill, the magazine of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

In the mad rush by journalists to become multilingual in the language of multimedia, a few finer points can get cropped out of the picture. Key among them: nuance. Lacking this, attempts at quality journalism will seem a little less so, to journalists as well as their audiences.

For example, in print journalism, it’s crucial to know that most words have many definitions, intended and implied, and the context either way can make the difference between enlightening readers or confusing them. Radio talent understands this, too, and is adept at conveying additional meaning through pronunciation and delivery.

Meanwhile, videography incorporates both sets of nuances and brings another that’s purely visual in scope, something many seasoned journalists are wrestling with as video news-gathering rises in prominence and importance. These nuances do not come bundled with the technology, though; they are, like verbal and audio knowledge, products of wisdom acquired over years of practice and error.

Thus, while it’s one thing to know how to use video technology, it’s quite another to use it properly and effectively, to bring out a news story’s layers and colors. So, be sure to make room for nuance in video, the better to keep an audience engaged.

Among the nuances that deserve attention:

Humanity: The more complex a story, the harder it will be to explain all its facets. That’s why it’s more effective to narrow the story’s focus onto one person, one character, who embodies the issue. Pull the audience into that character’s life and explain how this one person fits inside the larger issue. People relate to people better than broad concepts or ideas. Show how the central concept or idea has affected this single character.

Personality: If you’re the one in front of the camera, do not fear the lens, as the audience will see that fear. Look directly into the lens, taking care not to read from cues or prompts. This way, the delivery looks natural, the conversation seems personal, and nothing appears scripted. Audiences also can sense that there’s a script nearby and will be just as distracted in listening to it as you are reading from it.

Energy: Don’t just talk to the lens; show energy and commitment while delivering the message. Bring all that energy to the camera if you want the audience to bring all of its attention in return. When the subject material makes this difficult, it may be easier to also attach a purpose to the delivery, such as getting the audience to laugh or cry or to have it ponder a particular point.

Brevity: Audiences give videographers just seconds to make their case, then only seconds more to explain why audience members should even care. So don’t waste the audience’s time or patience. Make the video’s main point in one shot, preferably unedited, because viewers tend to trust clear, straightforward messages to ones that are filled with edits. After that, keep the video’s maximum running time at three to five minutes. Not only does this respect the audience’s time, it reduces the potential for errors in the final product.

Clarity: Speaking of the final product, take care to include only the essential elements in any video clip. The best way to do this is edit out the beginning and end of the clip, where you’re stepping in and out of the frame. There’s a theory that leaving in the rough edges around a clip makes the end result seem more natural and inviting. But news trumps “natural” when it comes to credibility. Stick to using clean clips and resist the urge to “edit in” more than what the clip is saying. 

 

Social media and the news

This spring, I gave a presentation at the Society of Professional Journalists' Region 7 Conference, held this year at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, where I discussed briefly how best to implement social media in journalism. There is much more depth to the discussion than this, so consider the presentation a primer, not a guide.

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As social media use in journalism continues to grow, the scope of this discussion and the best practices that go along with it will broaden, to the point where one day may become the central theme of journalism. That's why there's no better time like the present to start the discussion in earnest, and start it with presentations like this one. I hope it helped you in some way, and I encourage input regardless.

Bringing far-flung freelancers together

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(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, a blog for freelancers by the Society of Professional Journalists.)

As the market for freelance journalism grows, so too has interest in the evolving tools for that job.

That interest is acute where collaborative journalism is concerned, because simply pitching PDFs of Word documents back and forth via email tends to be a clunky way of doing business in this demanding age of digital interactivity. Now, no matter the distance or purpose, teams of people with shared goals all want to work together as if sitting in the same room.

A relatively new website called Widbook tries to provide that goal-oriented environment and foster a social network to supplement it. Widbook is a writing and editing space that lets people alone or in groups craft book-length projects and shorter stories; insert resources such as photos, videos and animations; and add to or augment contributions by other writers.

Widbook also invites writers and readers to share and tweak favorite developing works, and create libraries of published works whether self-written or from other authors.

Early reports on Widbook, still in beta, call it a “YouTube for books” because of its heavy emphasis on interactivity. The central theme and interface are better suited for collaboration on projects. Writers who prefer to work alone can use Widbook as well, but they’ll miss out on many of its features.

And Widbook is free of charge to register for and use — surely the most attractive feature to freelance writers and hopeful novelists working with meager budgets. The only things that first-time visitors to Widbook need to get started is to create a user name and password. Options include creating a personal profile, linking with Facebook, and selecting favorite literary genres from which to build a library. Members also can send messages and “follow” one another through the site.

Because it’s in beta, Widbook has limitations and quirks. For one thing, it’s not possible to export a finished project to another platform, though that’s expected to come later as the site matures, and it’s not obvious to early users how the social media aspect will supplement the collaboration tools. The interface is also a tad balky with projects running longer than a few chapters.

Still, for collaborative writers and editors, Widbook presents an intriguing new way for collaborative journalists to exchange ideas and bring far-flung talent together in the same room.

What running taught me about writing

(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Thirty years I ran, in competition and at leisure, for my main source of exercise, pounding pavement and trails, hills and dales, until my body said, "Stop. Sit down. Take it easy now." The pernicious announcement was broadcast through my feet, knees and heels. Nevertheless, I hobbled on until exactly the day 30 years after I started running, then shelved my 278th and apparently final pair of training shoes.

The downside was divorcing myself from a diversion that had become second nature. The upside was finding more time to write, my other favorite thing to do. So I jumped into blogs and social media with the same vigor as running, even finished that first book I always promised myself and started tapping out a second. I didn't give up exercise, just reassigned it on my list of priorities.

Soon, however, I remembered that every leap has a fall, and mine came when the words suddenly didn't. Writer's block, a problem foreign to me until then, choked my confidence, turned sitting at a keyboard into physical agony, and made me wonder whether my decades-long love of words had waned. After all, as the saying goes, too much of a good thing ...

I puzzled over this alarming change. I went on book-reading binges and to coffee-house poetry readings to try shaking my creativity loose. I tried even staring down my computer, hoping for the moment the screen was less blank than the look on my face.

It was during one of these stare-downs that I realized the problem: I hadn't prepared myself properly to write so much.

As with running, writing requires a "training" method of sorts. Just lacing up the shoes and hitting the road without proper preparation invites injury and aggravation for runners; it makes sense then that sitting down to write without a plan can cause comparable aggravation.

So, before you type, think.
Have a plan — Blogs and books, tweets and treatises, they all require distinct writing styles, with the format for one unlikely to fit another. Settle on a style to suit the need. Be true to your voice. But do the research, determine word counts and writing time ... in other words, have a plan before starting to type. Knowing parameters can help keep a project under control and palpitations to a minimum.

Have good equipment — In running, comfort is king. Shoes and togs that satisfy this royal priority reduce injury, frustration and boredom. For writers, comfortable equipment, and a dependably cozy, ergonomically suitable place to lay down ideas address those same issues. The key is to eliminate physical distractions that may hinder the creative process. 

Have a goal or routine — At my peak, I ran 10 to 15 miles daily, regardless of speed, to satisfy my training expectations. As a writer, I aim for a minimum of 1,000 good words at each sitting, regardless of topic. Goals and routines serve as rulers; they help us see how far we’ve come and how much further we must yet travel. Of course, nobody starts running 10 miles their first day; one works up to that. The same with writing. Start small, then expand the goal as time and tolerance permit.

Have accountability — Did you miss your goal for the day? Mark it on a calendar as a reminder. Did you exceed your goal? Reward yourself in some way. The final arbiter is the person you see in the mirror. Be able to stare back at that person without the least twinge of regret.
Have some variety — For a while in my running routine, I chose the same route  because that one more than others gave me what I felt was the best workout. But opting for sameness invited a lameness to my training that curtailed my development. Writing the same way every day can be just as limiting. If prose is your forte, dabble with poetry. If long-form writing is de rigueur, break out with short stories once in a while. To help, keep a writing journal — a paper or electronic place to experiment with other styles and discuss progress with yourself.

Have a partner — Running, like writing, is an intensely solitary exercise, and solitude can be confining. Through partners, runners find motivation and challenge, especially if the partner is a somewhat better runner. Writers, meanwhile, benefit from partners who discuss ideas, edit their output, even nudge them along on daunting projects. Partners provide a perspective on writing that solitude may not permit.

Have healthy habits — To run or write, you need fuel. Lacking that, runners hit a wall and writers hit a blank. But not just any fuel works. The term “garbage in, garbage out” may be chiefly a computer programming term but suits writers well, too. You eat junk food, you’re going to have junk writing, because the mind is more efficient with a healthy diet. Additionally, a sedentary lifestyle has been found to diminish brain function. Get up and out on a regular basis if only to increase blood flow to the brain. Walk, run, bike, bend, stretch — whatever it takes. Writers will find the words come easier when there’s less garbage in their way.

How to get a newspaper editor's attention

(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

The calls, emails and tweets started flowing in around during the holidays, coming across my desk at a rate of about half a dozen daily. Many more landed among my colleagues. They usually say something like this:

"I wrote this piece and thought you might like it," says the introduction to one email.

"Sure, it's a blog post, but it's a subject that interests everyone," says another.

"I'd love to write about sports. I'm a big fan," says one caller.

This time of year, aspiring writers drop hints, notes and whole unsolicited stories on newspapers like new snow with the intention of publishing those stories and getting paid for them. I think of it as a different kind of holiday tradition: as Christmas-related bills mount, these optimistic writers try to salve their financial wounds by banging out what they consider "news" and expecting a newspaper editor to read it as such, thus publishing it in the next day's paper and paying generously for the writers' work by week's end, or at least before the next credit card statement arrives.

But most of these gratuitous pitches and contributions wind up deleted, erased, ignored, because their writers failed at good reporting.

Sure, newspapers long have relied on contributing writers or freelancers to report news particularly when their full-time staffs were swamped with other work. The need for freelancers is acute now since newspapers nationwide have cut about one-third of their staffs over the past decade.

But today as decades before, newspapers do not accept anything and everything submitted to them for publication as "news." The stories appearing in today's print pages or online are products of careful planning, research and attention to detail. Even breaking news coverage requires rapid incisive analysis by teams of reporters and editors — freelancers sometimes among them — to determine how and why something happened and why it's what journalists like to call "newsworthy."

So, before you ship that free-form story to the nearest newspaper, stop for moment to understand first what it takes to attract a newspaper editor's attention:

First, you have to read the newspaper — This sounds pitifully obvious. In reality, it's pitiful how many solicitations that come to newspapers are ignorant on their face, as the writers are blind to the newspaper's greater purpose. Each paper serves as a kind of window onto the community, and the communities themselves are distinct. Thus, what interests readers or is newsworthy in St. Louis may not warrant similar attention in Sheboygan, Wis., or Syracuse, N.Y. Reading the newspaper carefully every day reveals the distinction. Consider how a newspaper is organized and edited, and where certain topics routinely appear. In other words, study the newspaper before trying to write for it.

Sell the story, not yourself — Prospective freelancers often try to tell their life stories when all an editor wants to know is whether the writer's idea is worth attention. Concentrate on explaining the story's importance in one or two short sentences, focusing on the key questions all news stories try to answer: who what, when, where, why and how.

Remember, there is no "I" in news — What you think, feel or believe about the news is not important; don't try passing off a recent blog post or journal entry as a news story. Cite only the facts in a story pitch; leave out your opinion. Because everyone has an opinion, but not everyone has the facts.

Provide verifiable sources — Newspapers aim to steer clear of bias in its news, leaving that instead to the commentary pages, thus some editors may want to check the validity of a freelancer's idea before committing to it. Providing at least three independent sources that editors can contact if they wish will sell a story pitch better than if there are none.

Send your pitch to the proper place — Story ideas relating to sports should not go to the news or features editors. Find out who the editors are that work with freelancers and accept story ideas, and craft pitches and queries to them specifically.

Pay attention to quality, quantity — Besides determining the proper editor for submissions, make sure to spell the editor's name correctly. For that matter, pay careful attention to fixing spelling and grammar errors before sending any correspondence. Most newspapers also adhere to "style" guidelines outlined by The Associated Press. Furthermore, if a story calls for a specific length, say 500 words, avoid writing even one word more than that. Not following such a simple direction may prompt time-challenged editors to hit the "delete" key.

Keep an open mind about being edited — Even the world's best journalists need editors, so don't think your work is much better. But don't take editing personally. Accept that stories may be trimmed or adjusted for length before publication. Tight, precise writing and rigid adherence to a prearranged story length go a long way toward preventing this.

Small potatoes are better than no potatoes — It used to be that newspapers paid well for freelance work. These days, big paychecks are rare, $25 to $50 per published story being typical and non-negotiable.

Don't be discouraged, but don't be a pest, either — Upon making a pitch, if a newspaper editor has not yet responded, wait three or four days before following up politely, professionally. It may be that the editor has been busy, or is keeping an eye open for other ideas.

Freelancers can be problem-solvers

(This piece first appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Look around. No matter where our eyes land, we see words.

It may be just one small word, such as “off” or “on,” but the process that led to printing the word required someone to come along and write it. Decisions were made, assignments were given and the words we see around us were formed.

If prospective and novice freelancers keep that in mind, the emotional challenge of finding writing and editing assignments will become little easier to take. Understand that the world needs writers of all kinds, and that one of those particular needs is bound to fit a freelancer’s special talent.

Of course, nobody will know that until it’s made obvious to everyone. Thus, self-promotion and marketing are as important as the actual creative actions of writing and editing.

This is tough for most freelancers just starting out. The very notion of having to sell themselves and do it daily takes them out of their writing and editing comfort zones and plops them in front of risk, challenge, uncertainty, frustration — things certain to make even average people squirm and sweat. Worse still, shopping for clients takes time away from the writing and editing processes.

Thus, marketing is where a freelancer’s ego runs up against reality. And repeatedly banging into reality this way can be bruising.

There is, however, one element of reality working in a freelancer’s favor that can cushion the psychological blow and act similarly as a sales tool.

You see, people who know how to use words effectively are, above all else, problem-solvers. They bring to bear talent and wisdom nobody else has or can use in precise ways, and that precision helps answer questions, surmount obstacles and open doors for other people.

Whereas managers organize a given situation and technicians wrestle with the fine details of it, writers and editors are responsible for communicating initial needs, communicating the problem-solving processes, communicating the analysis and conclusions of the final result. And let’s face it, nothing gets accomplished without strong, effective communication at multiple levels.

Thus, freelancers are instrumental. They find and write the words that help address important issues. They are, in essence, problem-solvers. And if prospective freelancers think carefully about this before tackling the onerous task of self-promotion, that task may start to seem less onerous. By pitching themselves as problem-solvers, freelancers expand the definitions of who they are and what they can accomplish. Clients will see them as more than just communicators, too.

It’s a psychological game, certainly, but it’s one all freelancers can win. And once they start to play, it can become much easier to switch their careers from “off” to “on.”

Your first task as a freelancer: Suck it up

(This post originally appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Hall of Fame hockey player Wayne Gretzky is synonymous with excellence on ice, but it turns out he also had superb advice for the prospective freelancer.

"You miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take."

Sure, he meant that about hockey in particular. But in general, Gretzky's wisdom stretches wide to encompass whatever we do in life and prompts thoughts about what we stand to lose when we fail to take chances.

For writers or editors eyeing independence as a way to a life-sustaining career, opportunities abound. Everyone, no matter their skill set, requires help with words, either creating them or crafting them, and your skill in these areas may be all another person or organization needs to convey the optimum message of the moment. Moreover, the market for effective, engaging communications continues to grow exponentially.

Yes, newspapers as a medium are going away, but the demand for what they try to offer their communities — responsible, accurate reporting — has not diminished and in the wake of social media has grown more acute. Besides personal engagement, we as a society also hunger for dispassionate views that help hone those engagements.

So, yes, the opportunities for freelancers are more and varied than ever. And it's time to take your shot.

Your goal, then: suck it up. Don't chicken out.

"But how?" you might ask. "Where should I start?"

The easiest, simplest and perhaps most flippant answer is, "At the beginning." But aspiring freelancers can have trouble distinguishing the well-traveled path from the one least taken. They need advice, however small, and guidance, however approximate, to start moving in the proper direction.

In truth, the beginning can be anywhere. What matters is clearing the path beforehand, accepting sacrifice before reward. Biting the bullet.

Sucking it up.

Here are a few things that must be cleared out of your path:

Procrastination — The phrase, "Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today," should hang from a sign in front of all freelancers. They are their own bosses, they are their own staff, they are the sources of their own motivation. Workers who are confined to cubicles have their environment as a sprawling reminder to stay busy; freelancers have only themselves. The best help in this area is a schedule that delineates working time and non-working time — and rigid adherence to that schedule. If the working time you set for yourself goes from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., with two or three breaks spaced between those hours, then stick to the schedule. If you prefer a more liberal structure to the working day, fine. Regardless, work when the schedule says "work," and nothing less.

Distraction — This tends to provoke procrastinate and in general comes in the form of television, video games, social media, peripheral noise and activity, among other things. Remove them, or somehow set them aside, and keep them there. Author Anne Lamott says, "Turn off Twitter. ... And don't clean house." Author Carl Hiaasen wears noise-dampening headphones when he writes. And I, presuming to include myself at their level, gave up television a couple years ago when it became obvious my remote was getting a better workout than my keyboard. Indeed, that sacrifice has helped, if not quite to the extent that I can join Anne's and Carl's company.

On the other hand, silence and isolation may only amplify the ringing in one's own ears, whereas a distraction or two instead stirs the imagination. In author Stephen King's view, "Any day's routine interruptions and distractions don't much hurt a work in progress and may actually help it in some ways. It is, after all, the dab of grit that seeps into an oyster's shell that makes the pearl." In other words, be comfortable: cherish what you can work with, expunge — really expunge — what you cannot.

Surprises — Said expunging speaks to planning. The more one has even the dreary little details of freelancing mapped out, the better one can navigate through or around them. Work flow, illness, budgeting and networking all are issues that take time away from writing and editing but are essential up-front considerations for every freelancer. Attend to small details early and the bigger ones that arise later will be easier to handle.

Generalization — You could write or edit anything and everything with the notion that volume means security. Look around though and you will find that successful freelancers do not have vague notions about what they are doing. They took the time to research the marketplace for needs not already addressed, or rarely so, by other freelancers. They chose specialization and hewed closely to a small number of subjects, educating themselves each day on the finer details of those subjects. Armed with unique knowledge, freelancers can attract expert clients, instead of the other way around.

Boredom — Banality abounds. The key is not letting it slip into our work. A person in a cubicle somewhere may not have that option, but freelancers, as noted above, possess the power to chart their own course. In an earlier post on this blog I noted ways to stay busy between jobs and they are just as effective for helping break out of monotony. However, if the urge to leave freelancing as a career in pursuit of other excitement still seems too tough to shake, try talking through it with other freelancers; they may have been in the same hole and found ways to climb out.

Freelancing should be fun, something you want to do every day. Unless you suck it up and clear the road ahead of obstacles, the fun will seem only further and further away.

 

Will fewer copy editors mean more lawsuits?

A friend of mine lost his job as the economy began careening along a precipice. He was laid off after his employer's accountants, perhaps fearing for their own job security, removed the welcome mat one morning as he approached from the parking lot.

At the front door, guards who knew my friend on a first-name basis greeted him cordially, took his security pass and presented him with a water-stained cardboard box filled with his belongings. Nobody was there to say thank you for his decade of commitment and loyalty; the guards had performed the same curt ceremony two dozen times already over the past six months.

The day after my friend's exit, a brace of attorneys visited his now-former employer. Not because he had hired legal eagles in response. Instead, these attorneys were sniffing for negligence and thought they might smell blood in the building. Because the night my friend was laid off, the employer made a critical error that went public.

My friend, you see, had been a newspaper copy editor. His job, simply stated, was to ensure other people looked good. He caught reporters' errors and corrected them before publication, and by extension made the newspaper look good. But before his last night at work the editing staff already suffered a shortage of bodies. News stories that should have been scrutinized closely were pushed through in a hurry to meet a deadline. So on the first night he was gone, some errors were missed, including a libelous one that wound up in print and online the next morning before an estimated 1 million sets of eyes. The attorneys showed up at the front desk before the security guard had finished his morning coffee.

Today, the newspaper still publishes and it has laid off more employees, perhaps to defray legal costs. My friend found a new job outside of journalism. He corrects errors now in the private sector. How much money was required to solve the newspaper's libel problem, I do not know; maybe enough to have kept my friend and a couple other copy editors on the payroll a year or more.

Now, sure, there's no telling that the newspaper would have avoided trouble for certain had my friend still been there. But fewer editors tends to mean more errors, and not just at newspapers. A recent New York Times article cited book publishers' propensity for cutting corners as the reason for the rise of spelling and other errors in books and manuscripts. These publishers used to have copy editing staffs, too. Another report, this one by the BBC, highlighted an entrepreneur's claim that spelling errors on merchants' websites in the United Kingdom have drastically curtailed online sales there.

And this all matters … how? Well, the point of editing, of perfecting one's communication, hews to professionalism. A lack of errors implies attention to detail that extends to other services and products. Sure, we all want to see our names and our kids' names published in the paper properly, if for no other reason than personal pride or bragging rights. At the same time, we want drug manufacturers and home builders and airplane mechanics to work with accurate printed information, because communication errors in those fields require much more than a printed correction.

The people who collect and disseminate information for print, online and broadcast have come under considerable pressure lately. Their numbers have dwindled, they're forced to do more with fewer resources and they must perform faster and longer in this burgeoning, 24-hour-deadline world. Volume matters and speed matters in that world, yet fewer watchdogs are standing by to account for accuracy and credibility. Meanwhile, media conglomerates continue to reap prodigious profits year after year, in large part through savings gained through editor layoffs.

I wonder then about the target-rich environment for litigators this shaving for savings' sake creates. You see, news copy editors not only push for proper spelling and grammar, they also are trained to recognize nuance, particularly where slander and libel are concerned. The case used to be at many news publications that copy editors were paid more than reporters because they were considered to be like the armor on a tank ‒ protection. It has been said that all copy editors make good reporters, but not all reporters make good copy editors.

This philosophy persisted in print journalism until the Internet brought publishing to everyone's desktop and made anyone with a half-formed thought, a keyboard and an Internet connection capable of sending “news” circling the globe in seconds. While all of us were agog over the potential, there rose the misconception that the “delete” key cured all ills.

But electronic words are like hard lead on cheap notebook paper; the erasure never comes off completely. Our Web marks, once made, leave an impression that delete keys cannot expunge, and that impression can last decades. And as the technology improves, so does the ease at plucking out these stray, unwanted marks after the fact, which then opens the question: Were these errors honest, or did they result from carelessness or negligence?

That distinction also is becoming easier to detect. Thus, the next question from an attorney might be: If copy editors were laid off for the sake of saving a few dollars, might that act alone constitute contributory negligence?

I imagine that one day soon there will be a brace of attorneys knocking on the door to test that possibility. Look at the empty copy editing desks around you and pray your publication can pass the test.

Olbermann Agonistes

America's brief national pundocratic nightmare appears over. Keith Olbermann, doyen of television's liberal-leaning wordsmiths and current poster child for media ethics, has been given a green flag to resume table-pounding on MSNBC, ostensibly to help square the media's sails against the starboard tack of neighboring Fox News.

All that remains is for Olbermann on Tuesday to don a hairshirt matching one of his shiny ties and with humility aforethought navigate the rough passage between the media's own Scylla and Carybdis: respectability and ratings.

Recall that Olbermann's hands were summarily slapped last week when Politico pried into a batch of campaign contribution records and found his name among those media mavens who reach from beneath their shroud of self-proclaimed journalistic integrity to pad a few candidates' finances, ahead of the just-ended elections. Recall also the berating he received by MSNBC in the name of company policy and the subsequent silence by rival Fox News, who could have joined the flagellation in response to Olbermann's constant harangues but didn't at the risk of turning unwanted attention to Fox's own policies.

We've had a weekend to mull the media quandary Olbermann brought into focus, a predicament long stewing in the mingled juices of outrage and obligation squeezed from journalists striving for objectivity in the employ of an industry driven by market forces. The responses to his behavior have been predictable. Less so are the pronouncements regarding MSNBC's obligation in the matter.

When Olbermann's "Coundown" launched in 2003, its debut portended analysis from a broadcast professional brandishing wit, insight and, it seemed, a ready copy of Roget's Thesaurus, all of which had been apparent in Olbermann's banter with co-sportscaster Dan Patrick during their turn on ESPN's "SportsCenter" through much of the 1990s. Over time however, "Countdown," which examined five timely events in reverse order, morphed into a kind of counterpoise, with Olbermann devoting more time to commentary that skewered official statements made by the Bush Administration. MSNBC's tacit approval of this transition was clarified by the addition to its programming calendar of "The Rachel Maddow Show," whose host has adopted an unbashed liberal stance on issues, and more recently "The Last Word with Lawrence O'Donnell," a political analyst who, if viewed at certain angles, can be seen tilting perceptibly to the left.

One wonders then what all the fuss was about at MSNBC, company policy against overt politicking notwithstanding, after Politico revealed Olbermann's contributions worth about $7,500 to Kentucky Senate candidate Jack Conway and Arizona congressional candidates Raul Grijalva and Gabrielle Giffords, all three campaigning as Democrats. MSNBC president Phil Griffin said in defense of Olbermann's suspension that the broadcaster violated a specific policy requiring network employees to state their political proclivities "before" writing endorsement checks, this defense suggesting Olbermann's behavior was justified had he filled out the proper paperwork in advance.

The precondition, if any exists, surely is not that simple. However, the solution is overtly so, and it would require that MSNBC balance its scale of ethical behavior in reality and not in a reality-TV kind of way. Olbermann's show is ratings gold for the network (though Fox News is mining platinum, at present) because its host chooses positions, takes stands, tries to be the last and loudest voice in the room, and does not attempt to sneak his behavior or his politics past the network. If this evolution of "Countdown" to support this was a mistake, an aberration of some sort, then MSNBC should at least admit that much; otherwise, the network should give its cash cow more grazing space, well away from other real journalists in the field.

SPJ is my life, now

I'm writing a new chapter in my life by leading a chapter – the St. Louis-area chapter of SPJ, the Society of Professional Journalists, to be specific.

Election was easy; nobody else wanted the job. Installation this afternoon at the chapter's monthly luncheon was just as effortless. The current president pointed to me, announced I'm the lone candidate, asked if everyone in the room was OK with that, and upon hearing no objections declared the handover of power official and passed the gavel.

(Our group does not own a gavel; however, a cliche seemed a fair punctuation mark for that sentence.)

In fact, my one-year responsibility does not begin until June, but before then the current president will mount her formal campaign for regional SPJ chairman and needs room on her schedule to build a policy platform.

This is not to say we take chapter responsibilities lightly, passing around board memberships like copies of this morning's newspaper. SPJ remains an important resource to the local news-gathering community by showing ways that veteran journalists and budding ones can improve on their craft and deal with the changes wrought by technology and the Internet.

Rather, we'd like to think the quick transition represents an eagerness to move forward and impress how interested St. Louis-area journalists are in the state of the industry. Having the current chapter president move now into the regional chair, and subsequently a seat on the national board of directors, helps raise St. Louis' profile within SPJ.

As for me, I'd like to just see more faces to meetings, increase membership, brainstorm for ideas on bringing more online journalists aboard, and help out-of-work journalists continue to practice their craft to its fullest potential. I'm not sure how to do all of that just yet, but as ideas arise this vehicle may be the first place they see light.