MPA/MPS e-Bulletin

How to ask for referrals
By John Foust, Raleigh, NC

“Ever since I started selling advertising,” Marla told me, “I’ve heard about the importance of referrals. But the problem is that most sales people do a poor job of asking for them.”

She’s right. The standard request for referrals goes something like this: “Here’s my business card. If you know of anyone who wants to advertise in the paper, let me know.” That kind of request is not likely to inspire people to reach for their Rolodexes, is it?

“Generic requests are okay in some circumstances,” Marla said, “but they rarely produce immediate results. I talked to a lot of other sales people – many of them outside the ad business – looking for a better way to get referrals. Along the way, I learned a technique that is designed to generate leads on the spot. It’s based on the idea that you have customers who already know people who are good prospects for you, but they need help in seeing those people as prospects.”

If you’d like to try Marla’s approach, here are three points to keep in mind:

1. Pick the right time. The two best times to ask for a referral are (1) as soon as a sale is finalized and (2) as soon as an ad campaign starts producing results. You want to catch them at a time when they feel good about the decision to advertise in your paper. That increases the likelihood that they will want others to follow their lead.

2. Paint a word picture. In sales presentations, it’s important to help prospects think visually – to help them see their businesses being advertised on the printed page. (Isn’t that what we do all the time with spec ads?) Why not do the same thing in asking for referrals?

Say something like, “I wonder if you will help me with something? I’m looking for someone who runs a business in town. They’ve been around for a few months – maybe a year or two – but they’re still searching for the right way to reach potential customers. They’ve tried some advertising, but nothing long term. Do you know anyone who fits that description?”

3. Narrow the focus. “You want to be specific enough to help them visualize potential prospects,” Marla said, “but not so specific that you limit the possibilities. Don’t say, ‘I’m looking for someone who has a $3,000 monthly budget’ or ‘Can you think of a business that is trying to reach married couples between the ages of 25 and 50?’”

Every industry has a network. It’s a sure bet that your customers know more about their regular contacts than they know about anyone else. So if you’re talking to a car dealer, look for links to companies that supply products or services to that dealer. And if you’re talking to a store owner, ask about new and existing businesses in the neighborhood.

“This technique has generated more leads than anything else I’ve tried,” Marla said. “Some of my customers have actually looked through their files to find prospects for me.”

 (c) Copyright 2006 by John Foust. All rights reserved.

John Foust conducts on-site and video training for newspaper advertising departments. His three new video programs are designed to help ad managers conduct in-house training for their sales teams. For information, contact: John Foust, PO Box 97606, Raleigh, NC 27624 USA, E-mail: jfoust@mindspring.com, Phone 919-848-2401.

Dear editors,

A new era is dawning in the career of your not-so-humble writing coach.

(It’s a small new era, but hey, I haven’t had a new era in a long, long time, so for me, it’s a big thing.)

I am moving. Granted, I’m moving only a few miles, and you probably will never know the difference, but each month I have to come up with a note that will amuse you, so I would appreciate at least some mild “Ooooohing” and “Aaaaaahing” whenever I reveal anything new.

Starting July 8, my address will be: 6310 Bayberry Court, Elkridge, Md. 21075. My telephone number will be 410 796 0210.

(For the record, my e-mail address will remain the same. Also, my Social Security No. will remain the same, my height, weight and eye color will remain the same, my middle name will remain the same. Oddly, as I age, my shoe size has gotten larger, but I cannot see that that is any of your concern.)

Since 1990, when my wife, Sharon, and I moved in with my dad, we have been taking care of my dad’s modest-sized but anachronistic house, which demands considerable attention. Unfortunately, by the time I turned 50 (eight years ago, for those of you keeping score at home), I had used up almost all the attention God had granted me, so taking care of the house was a huge burden.

When my dad died last November, Sharon and I began plotting our escape. We are going to be renting a small condo, which means I no longer will: (1) Mow the lawn; (2) shovel snow; (3) worry about home repairs that I am incapable of doing anyway.

I was not meant to be a homeowner. First of all, I am completely irresponsible. Second, … er, um … refer back to “First of all …”

So, here’s the latest installment of coaching wisdom, or, if you happen to think it merits a less lofty label, the latest installment of filler. The next one I write will be from my new home in the colorfully named community of “Elkridge.” Not sure if there are any elk there, and I don’t remember seeing a ridge, but starting July 8, it’ll have one writing coach.

My goal is that, by the time I leave, they’re calling is “Stazridge.”

Best wishes to all … jim

…
In 30 years in newspapers, I have met only one reporter who did not have a heart.

Bill would not lie, but he would do anything else to get a story. He had no compassion for sources. If he were interviewing a grieving parent, and the parent let slip an embarrassing fact about the dead child then pleaded with Bill not to use it, Bill would be unmoved. He would use it. I didn’t like Bill. He was an outstanding reporter, far better than I, but rather than take Bill’s bulldozer route, I sometimes opted to weaken a story and retain my humanity.

I hadn’t thought of Bill in a long time, until a reporter — I’ll call her Laura — came to me at the break in a seminar and posed this situation.

Laura had been interviewing the mom of a newsmaker. The idea for the story was inspired. Everything possible had been written about this newsmaker, everyone had interviewed him, he had exhausted all of his colorful quotations and profound insights.

So Laura, thinking creatively, called the mom, wondered whether mom would give a different view of her son, and mom said, “Sure, come on over, we can talk.”

In the interview, mom volunteered a fascinating anecdote about her son, an anecdote that the note-taking Laura immediately recognized as the cornerstone of her story. But, as soon as mom said it, she followed with the dreaded words: “But you can’t use that in the newspaper.”

In an instant, Laura went from euphoria to deflation. She knew that, technically, she could use the anecdote. Mom, bless her naivete, hadn’t gotten Laura to agree that the anecdote was off the record, so clearly, Laura could have done the Bill thing and burned mom.

But Laura’s heart overruled her scoop lust. The anecdote stayed hidden in the notebook.

As Laura was laying out her experience, I grimaced, and Laura took that to mean I thought she should have used the anecdote.

“No,” I said, “that’s not the case. I grimaced because I, too, have let sources off the hook, no doubt to the detriment of some of my stories.”

We’ve all been in that situation. Here are some ideas for handling it.

First, if the source is savvy and experienced, and he or she tries to talk you out of using something that slipped out, ask yourself: How valuable is the material to the story?

Obviously, if the fact or quotation is of little value anyway, you may agree not to use it. In other words, if it is funny or embarrassing, but otherwise does not help develop the story’s theme, leaving it out seems reasonable. But judge the fact or quotation on its value, not on your sympathy for the source.

Do not lose an important news story just so you can keep a savvy source happy.

Second, if the source is unaccustomed to reporters’ attention, the issue is more sticky.

Try reasoning with the source. Let’s say you’re interviewing the mom Laura interviewed, you get the same juicy anecdote, and mom asks you not to use it.

Start by saying, “Oh, geez, that’s really good, really revealing. If I use it in the story, it’ll help readers understand your son. Don’t you see that it will make him sound very human?”

If that doesn’t work, temporarily relent. But later, call mom and say, “You know, I’ve been thinking about that anecdote, and if I leave it out, readers will be missing something valuable. That anecdote makes your son come alive. I hate to write a story without it.”

Subtly, you’re implying you may not write any story unless you may use the anecdote.

The theory: When you were with mom, you planted the seed that the anecdote was special, so after you left, she probably thought about what you said. Maybe you had edged her toward agreeing, but she wouldn’t make the first move to call you.

Further, if she thinks you’re thinking about abandoning the story, she may soften even more.

Another option is actually to write the anecdote as it would appear in the story, then read it to mom over the phone.

Inexperienced news sources often cannot visualize how a fact, a quotation or an anecdote will look in the newspaper, and they assume the worst. If you show mom you’re handling the anecdote responsibly, her misgivings may evaporate.

One other possibility: If you’re losing the battle anyway, ask mom to call her son to see whether he minds if the story includes the anecdote. The odds are you’re going to lose, but letting the son know you know about the anecdote may help. He may think, “What the heck, if a reporter already knows about it, it’s bound to come out eventually, so why not just let it out?”

Or, the son may tell mom he thinks the anecdote is harmless, and she’ll let you use it.

Of course, if you’re interviewing Bill’s mom, use the anecdote no matter what she says. And call me. I have some really juicy stuff to add to any story about Bill.

THE FINAL WORD: I recently paid $6 for “Interpretive Reporting,” a 1938 textbook by C.D. McDougall, a journalism professor and the kind of cranky editor we all need.

I loved the section in which McDougall condemned “journalese,” phrases reporters invented, then beat to death. Back in the ’30s, one of our oft-repeated phrases apparently was “cynosure of all eyes.” A “cynosure” is a person or thing that is the center of attention or interest.

Hmmmmm, McDougall’s criticism seems to have killed that cliche.

Writing coach Jim Stasiowski welcomes your question and comments. Call him at 410 247-4600 or write to 5812 Heron Drive, Baltimore, Md. 21227.

Pressing Issues
Don’t Make Me Speak in Public
by Randy Hines

Mississippi reporters and editors are word specialists. Consider some of the names used to describe your occupation—journalists, columnists, writers, wordsmiths, authors, scribes. Some of you may have entered the profession because you prefer to do your talking with the printed product. Others may be outgoing and enjoy public interaction.

But whatever side you’re on, speaking in public is not something most Mississippi journalists—or others—particularly enjoy. According to several studies, in fact, speaking before others ranks as the number one fear facing Americans.

Such research is what prompted Jerry Seinfeld to banter: “So if you’re going to a funeral, you’re better off being in the casket than giving the eulogy.”

Even those who frequently speak in public with what appears to be the greatest of ease may not have a lot of natural talent.

Speech anxiety can never be eliminated. But it can be kept under control. In fact, experts think stage fright can help you perform better. It keeps you alert and mentally on your toes—similar to an actor before a performance.

Since Mississippi newspapers want to identify with their readers and develop brand identification, it’s only natural that getting employees out in front of audiences is a necessity.

Despite what you may have heard about speeches, you’re allowed to use notes. In fact, having them in front of you will probably make you less nervous. Nevertheless, practice your speech out load several times before its delivery. Knowing your material will help you relax. A major reason for the rehearsal is to spot tongue twisters that somehow hide while on the page.

Sure, you may still be sweating like a bull rider in the July rodeo, but the audience won’t notice. They are just happy you are speaking instead of them.

If you have the time, try to make sure any equipment you’ll need is working. That could include projectors, computers and microphones. But if something’s not working, do your best to deliver your message, even without the wonderful PowerPoint presentation you prepared. And if the PowerPoint is your forte, try to avoid looking at the screen rather than your audience.

Being in a panic will not help you minimize anxiety. So arrive early and relax. Find out who will introduce you and give that person your short bio. It’s better for you to write that yourself so you control the topic and the timing.

Since you’re already the expert writer, don’t forget those basics when you compose your speech. Use short words, short sentences and informal language. Remember, this time you’re writing for the ears, not the eyes. So keep the flow of words simple to understand.

When you get asked to speak, determine who your audience will be. That helps you visualize the people in your audience as you write your speech. I once was told I would be talking to business executives. Unfortunately, the program coordinator forgot to tell me that they were all retired. My prepared speech on the latest business communication techniques for the office would have fallen on deaf ears.

You should also find out about the length of your speech. Many seminaries today are training future clergy to keep sermons to 20 to 25 minutes long. It’s always better to have your audience wanting more than to be looking at their watches.

To capture their attention from the start—otherwise you’ve already lost them—open with a quotation, anecdote or humorous story. Be careful of jokes, however. They can backfire and get you and your newspaper in trouble. Better to make yourself the butt of the tale than your publisher, an audience member or the sponsoring organization.

Many newspapers have discovered the value of having its own speakers bureau. People throughout the publication—advertising, circulation, production and editorial—can share their vocation and hobbies with the community. But make sure your paper promotes it diligently throughout the region. You can do that with house ads in the paper, mailings, a brochure and your paper’s Web site.

Who knows? Maybe next July 4 you’ll be volunteering to speak at a community event.

# # #

Dr. Randy Hines teaches in the Department of Communications at Susquehanna University in Selinsgrove, Pa. He can be reached for workshops at randyhinesapr@yahoo.com or (570) 372-4079.

Welcome to American Life in Poetry. For information on permissions and usage, or to download a PDF version of the column, visit http://www.americanlifeinpoetry.org.

******************************

American Life in Poetry: Column 062

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE 2004-2006

Gardeners who’ve fought Creeping Charlie and other unwanted plants may sympathize with James McKean from Iowa as he takes on Bindweed, a cousin to the two varieties of morning glory that appear in the poem. It’s an endless struggle, and in the end, of course, the bindweed wins.

Bindweed

There is little I can do
besides stoop to pluck them
one by one from the ground,
their roots all weak links,
this hoard of Lazaruses popping up
at night, not the Heavenly Blue
so like silk handkerchiefs,
nor the Giant White so timid
in the face of the moon,
but poor relations who visit
then stay. They sleep in my garden.
Each morning I evict them.
Each night more arrive, their leaves
small, green shrouds,
reminding me the mother root
waits deep underground
and I dig but will never find her
and her children will inherit
all that I’ve cleared
when she holds me tighter
and tighter in her arms.

Reprinted from “Headlong,” University of Utah Press, 1987, by permission of the author, and first published in “Poetry Northwest,” Vol. 23, No. 3, 1982. Copyright (c) 1982 by James McKean, whose most recent book is “Home Stand,” a memoir published in 2005 by Michigan State University Press. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

******************************

American Life in Poetry provides newspapers and online publications with a free weekly column featuring contemporary American poems. The sole mission of this project is to promote poetry: American Life in Poetry seeks to create a vigorous presence for poetry in our culture. There are no costs for reprinting the columns; we do require that you register your publication here and that the text of the column be reproduced without alteration.

No. 53 for June 2006

Common Sense Journalism
By Doug Fisher

Headline panel leaves lots to think about

The modern newspaper is designed for skimmers, not just readers. That means more decks in headlines, catchy heads and other blurbs and doodads that we keep telling ourselves will pull people in and give those skimmers enough of the story that they get some value.

And, as usual, the “Inside nonreaders’ heads” panel at the recent American Copy Editors Society meeting in Cleveland should have us questioning some of that accepted wisdom.

• Those decks to help explain the story – and that we sometimes lean on to explain a tight main head – often don’t get read. “I feel like the deck is just filler between the headline and the regular text,” said Erin Kennedy, a high school senior on the panel.
• Pictures that don’t reflect the headline can be jarring.
• That other typographical furniture? Too often more distraction than help.
• Catchy headlines are good if not forced. But most of all make sure the head makes clear why someone should read the story.

Instead of the usual panel of nonreaders, this time all four were intensely interested in news and said they would read a paper – if the head caught their attention and they had time. Only Willow Andrews, who is raising her family at home, pointedly said she once read newspapers but quit because too much fluff crowded out vital information. She now uses public radio and the Internet.

Jane Trager worked for many years at a suburban Cleveland paper and now works for Ohio’s corrections agency. The fourth person, Sambala Boyd, is a young man from the Virgin Islands who works at local hotel. He and Andrews are black; Kennedy and Trager are white.
Reaction to this head from an inside page highlights the complexities of assembling a newspaper for today’s diverse audience:
Iraqi police unearth the bodies of 87 slain men

Kennedy found little to attract her when “it’s a common story now; you have it everywhere.”
“I want to read them,” she said, “but I want to know why this story is important. Why is it more important than the 30 men they found yesterday?”
But Andrews said she would read the story “to find out who these people are and why they are dead. … You don’t just say there are five more today.”
“It’s not a matter of not caring,” Boyd said. “It’s a matter of seeing it over and over.”
He said he probably would read the headline but skip the story and go to an “Other Developments” box. “It’s something else, something I don’t know,” he said.

This head, with its sexual innuendo, brought twitters from the audience:
Pinot Envy
It went with a story of how the movie “Sideways” promoted the wine. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” Kennedy admonished any nervous copy editors. And from Trager: “I just think it’s a hoot.”
Likewise, this head, on a sports story, generally went over well:
Urine trouble: Smith caught with cheat kit
Airport police find dried urine that is used with ‘The original Whizzinator’ to beat drug tests “Urine” again had some editors twittering, but was no problem for the panel, nor was repeating it in the head and deck. But using only “Smith” was a stumbling block. Kennedy said the catchphrase got her interested, but she wasn’t sure why she should read the story.

Trager also wondered who Smith was, “But I’d read the story because I work with people who try to cheat on their urine tests all the time.” She didn’t think the head might tend to convict Smith in public opinion. “If you have a cheat kit, you have a cheat kit. Why do you need a cheat kit?” she said.
However, this attempt to be catchy on a weather story fell flat:
A Sun-undrum
Fifteen days after March strolled in gentle as a lamb, not even a meteorologist can say whether the lion will awake with a roar.
Boyd said he might read it, but he would skip the deck. Trager agreed, and Kennedy said of the whole thing: “I think it’s a title, not a headline.” She’d skip to the next page. Andrews said her 9-year-old son is fan of the Weather Channel and knows all about weather. “But if I put this in front of him, it would take an hour” for him to figure out.
The following head was paired with several pictures, the main one showing a woman at home lying on a sofa and talking on a cell phone (the woman had been through the ordeal of a rockslide on Interstate 84):
In a flash, death barrels toward her
A woman is cruising I-84 one second, recovering from flying boulders the next
Boyd loved it – “It sounds like the beginning of a story” – and Andrews said it would draw her in. But the disconnect between the picture of a woman lying seemingly serenely and the idea of a rockslide jarred Kennedy and Trager.
There were other heads, and a full summary will be on the Common Sense Journalism blog, http://commonsensej.blogspot.com. In one case, for instance, the use between a headline and a story of a picture referring readers to a related story confused the panel.
Alex Cruden of the Detroit Free Press has organized these ACES sessions for almost a decade, and this year he was helped by Holly Franko of The Oregonian.

Doug Fisher, a former AP news editor, teaches journalism at the University of South Carolina and can be reached at dfisher@sc.edu or 803-777-3315. Past issues of Common Sense Journalism can be found at http://www.jour.sc.edu/news/csj/index.html.

We’re holding the Second Quarter edition of The Fourth Estate for one or two items still out, so this is a final call for any news you’d like to share with fellow members of staff promotions, hires or other items of interest at your newspapers.

Send your items to lbruce@mspress.org.

Hope to see you all on the coast in a couple of weeks.

lsb
–
Layne Bruce
Director of Marketing
Mississippi Press Association/Services

by Kevin Slimp, April 2006

I’m in a familiar predicament. There are at least a dozen new software applications on my desk, all waiting to be reviewed. There’s backup software, drive rescue software, photo editing software and word processing software, not to mention a pile of books. I decided to go with the most unique looking box. Comic Life, by Freeverse Software, fit the bill.

At first, you might think this is an application a newspaper would never use. Not so, my friends. I installed and opened the application. Within fifteen minutes, I had created my first comic. The comic I provided with this column was my second effort. It took about ten minutes to create. Let me tell you how it works.

After installing the software, I immediately opened Comic Life. The workplace was very user friendly. Basically, the left half of the screen is the template for your comic. I counted 16 templates to choose from or you can create your own. The right half includes a library of photos and all the tools. Comic Life gets its photos from your iPhoto library. Yes, this application is only available on the Mac platform. I added the photos I wanted to use to my iPhoto library, then headed back to Comic Life.

Laying out a page is as simple as dragging photos from the library into frames on the template. Once in the frames, pictures can be manipulated by dragging a handle, much as you resize photos in pagination applications. Each “cell” of your comic contains an image.

Comic balloons, bubbles and boxes are added to cells by choosing styles from the bottom area of the workspace. Text is created within each balloon or box. You can even move a balloon’s tail by moving it with your mouse.

My favorite aspect of Comic Life is the ability to use filters to create a “look” for your comic. I selected “Color Pencils” to give my creation the look of an old-fashion comic book. When completed, files can be saved in tif, jpeg and other formats.

Why would a newspaper be interested in Comic Life? First, it’s an easy way to be creative with advertising. Let’s face it. We only have so much time to spend on each ad. Why not dazzle your client with an ad that looks hand drawn, but takes only ten minutes to create? And second (are you sitting down?), The price. Comic Life retails for $30 US / $35 CAN / $50 AUS.

I can’t remember a product that offered so much potential at such an affordable price.

Comic Life is available from most Apple software vendors or you can order it from www.freeverse.com. For more information, visit www.freeverse.com.

Book Covers Creative Suite Gamut

I’ve written reviews of books on just about every aspect of Adobe’s Creative Suite. Recently I had a chance to review Using Adobe Creative Suite 2: The Only CS 2 Book You Need, by Michael Smick. In 986 pages, the author provides detailed information concerning Photoshop, ImageReady, Illustrator, InDesign and GoLive.

It might not be the only book you’ll ever need, but it sure covers a lot of ground. I appreciate the way the author offers simple explanations about what tools do, then supplies step by step instructions so users can begin using them right away. From Que Publishing (www.quepublishing.com). $50 US / $70 CAN / $80 AUS. ISBN 0-7897-3367-6.

JACKSON — The Mississippi Press Association has launched a new blog covering developments in the newspaper industry at its website, www.mspress.org/inkblots.

The blog is compiled by MPA/MPS director of marketing Layne Bruce, a longtime reporter, editor and publisher at community papers in Mississippi. The InkBlots blog will focus on notable developments in the newspaper industry inside Mississippi and around the country.

“Blogs are ubiquitous on the net these days. They range in tone from serious and informational to quirky and entertaining,” Bruce said. “We think InkBlots is a way for MPA to join this trend and provide some valuable, relevant information to our reader and associates in a timely way.”

Member comments and feedback are encouraged through the blog, which will be updated several times each week.

“We don’t want this to be about what MPA thinks about any given issue. We want it to be the start of a dialog between our members about what’s going on in our business,” Bruce said.

Additional blogs could be added in the future, he said, if members are interested in starting discussions on topics such as newspaper design, technology and revenue generation.

To read the blog, visit http://www.mspress.org/inkblots.

For more information, email lbruce@mspress.org.

Most elementary age children are interested in space exploration.
But how often do they find information about the very latest space discoveries and space technologies written especially for them? The short monthly columns provided by NASA’s award-winning Space Place outreach program give newspaper editors a no-cost source of accurate, up-to-date, and highly readable information for their youngest readers.  The columns are about 300 words and include a high-resolution image, with suggested caption, to support and enhance the text.  They are written at 4th or 5th grade level.

The columns are offered free of charge.  But editors are asked to send in a tear sheet each month.

If you would like to receive this monthly column for use in your NIE space, please contact Nancy Leon at (818) 354-1067 or at nancy.j.leon@jpl.nasa.gov

Dear editors,

(NOTE: This column is early. An editor, who shall remain nameless except to his family and close friends, implored me to send one right away, and because I fortuitously had finished my column for May, I reluctantly acceded to his request. However — and this is a huge “however” — in June, I shall resume my usual schedule of sending the column by the 27th of the month. I know all of you wish I would send it sooner, but the truth is, no matter when I send it, you always want it sooner. And if I sent you one column per day, someone would ask, “If it’s not too much trouble, could you send two per day?”)

Have I ever told you the story about of the poet I met on an airplane?

He looked more like a salesman than a poet, and son of a gun, a salesman is what he was.

I struck up a conversation with him because … because … well, honestly, because he was sitting next to me, and (in case you didn’t know this about me) I talk to everybody. I talk to longshoremen and shepherds and kayakers (not sure that’s a legitimate word, as my computer just gave me the finger for using it) and even my close relatives.

So I was on this plane, and we were sitting on the runway in Detroit, waiting behind a dozen other Northwest Airlines flights that were delayed because (so the story goes) a computer was broken in Memphis, and without that computer, no mere mortal could figure out whether the airplanes’ loads were balanced. (When I mentioned to the flight attendant the folly of having a dozen or more flights delayed because of a balky computer 1,000 miles away, he sneered and said, “I used to figure out the load balance with a pencil and piece of paper.”)

Anyway, I was sitting next to this very well-dressed guy (except for the cowboy boots), and I asked what he did for a living, and he said he sold heavy-construction equipment, and I said that sounded interesting, and he sneered and said, “Then you don’t know much about heavy-construction equipment.”

Apparently unwilling to unlock for me the mysteries of heavy-construction equipment, he asked me what I did for a living, and I told him, “Writing coach,” and then the sneering began in earnest. He couldn’t believe I could make a living teaching writing, as he was 100% certain he knew more about writing than I did, when all he really knew about me was that I wasn’t dressed as well as he was (except for the cowboy boots).

At that point, he revealed to me that he was a poet. Now, until that moment, I had never been in an actual emergency inside the fuselage of an airliner, but when I realized I was buckled into a seat next to a poet, and our flight was still on the ground, at least an hour late, and our flight was going to last at least another hour even after we took off, I swiftly asked the flight attendant if he could activate the oxygen masks that (according to airline legend) will drop from the ceiling, should we experience a sudden loss in cabin pressure.

After the flight attendant (rudely, I think) ordered me to cease acting like a child, I reluctantly resumed talking to the poet. He explained to me (in iambic pentameter, I think) how coarse and misguided modern printing and publishing executives are, to which I said, “Let me guess: You’re an unpublished poet.”

In a voice loud enough to activate hotel sprinkler systems, he responded, “At the moment, sir, yes,” which I took to mean he was unhappy.

Then he went to great pains to recite for me his favorite poems, all of which were by the same author, coincidentally, himself. At about No. 17, a sonnet dedicated to farm machinery, I think, he was interrupted by the pilot who announced we were next in line for takeoff, and I used that opportunity to ask the flight attendant if the pilot could grant my fondest wish, which was that he crash the plane.

No such luck. We took off without incident, and I heard plenty of poetry for the next hour or so, until we landed in Baltimore, at which point I lost track of the poet. I think he went to the bathroom, which is something I never envisioned Keats doing.

In a way, I wish I could have kept in touch with the poet, as I’ve been working on a rhyme myself. It starts, “There once was a bulldozer from Nantucket …”

Happy May, and I’ll be back in touch soon … jim

•••

As I was wrestling with the three lawn chairs that my wife, Sharon, and I had just bought, as I was twisting and turning them, trying to force them into the car trunk, a stranger strolled past.

“From my engineering background,” the grinning guy, dressed in shorts, a white T-shirt and a ball cap, said, “that ain’t going to work.” He looked as much like an engineer as I look like an NBA power forward.

I faked a smile, said, “Let me see your diploma,” and he laughed, which was the first thing that had gone the way I planned since Sharon and I had carried the chairs from the store.

Before we had left home, Sharon asked me if the three chairs would fit in the car. I told her I had done rigorous calculations (which I had not), and I assured her we’d have no problem getting them home (which I had no justification for saying).

We already owned one of that type of chair, and we both liked it so much, we routinely tried to outmaneuver each other to determine who would sit in it.

So when we saw that a local store had the same chair on sale ($5 off the regular price), we talked about buying another. Then we realized that if friends ever dropped over, we’d need extras, so we set out to buy three.

Before we went, I took the one chair we already owned out to our Mazda Protege, manhandled it into the trunk, looked warily at the overhang, got some rope for tying the trunk lid shut, then proclaimed myself ready for the modern-day suburban equivalent of combat: shopping.

That’s how I do things. I don’t measure and calculate and plan and make sure I can accomplish what I set out to do. First, I set out; then, when things go wrong, I improvise.

That’s the writer’s personality, and I think it’s what makes us special. Hey, before I got into the car to drive to the store, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I knew exactly how the chairs should fit in the trunk. I had thought a lot about it.

Such thinking is the key. I saw those chairs in the trunk long before I tried to place them there. (Besides, I had rope. I once read that rope will solve just about any problem.)

Before reporters go out on a story, they should know what story they want to get.

They should prepare, but not be so rigid as to adhere blindly to their pre-set plan.
Things will go wrong. Show me a reporter who got precisely the story he or she expected, and got it in precisely the way he or she envisioned, and I almost always will show you a mediocre story, one born of simplistic questions asked of the usual suspects, who then responded with predictable answers.

As we were paying for the chairs, Sharon whispered, “Should we see if the store will deliver them?”

With my characteristic empty but convincing bravado, I said, “Nah. Getting them home will be an adventure.”

Every story should be just that: an adventure, a stepping into the unknown. If we reporters know exactly how things will turn out, why do we think readers will not also know it? Why do we think readers want only the routine stuff they see in every edition?

I recently read a story about the clubs at local high schools. One of the clubs is for break dancing. Break dancing. Can you imagine? No, neither could I, and neither could other readers, and, I’ll bet, neither could the reporter, who probably started out thinking a story about high-school clubs would turn into a predictable list: the French club, the chess club, the debate club.

When Sharon and I got the chairs to the car, she asked how I wanted her to help load them. I said, “Why don’t you walk over to the grocery store and get some bananas?”

No, I didn’t have some secret plan for using bananas to help me load the chairs into the car. But we needed bananas, and I don’t like anyone lurking over my shoulder when I’m creating, whether I’m doing cargo sculpture or writing a story.

I think the best writers are loners, individuals. Some of them are the tortured-genius types, although I personally love writing too much ever to think of it as torture. I think most writers who need constant guidance will struggle to step forward and write something bold, something that goes against the grain and thus reveals.

By the time Sharon got back with the bananas, I was tying the rope holding down the trunk lid. Yes, I had succeeded. Protruding from the trunk were lawn chairs. Two of them.

That’s right, two. The third was in the front passenger seat. You reporters and editors instantly will recognize what had happened.

The original plan wouldn’t work, so I went with a main story and a sidebar.

THE FINAL WORD: I ordered a beer from the list on the menu, and the waitress said, “That’s non-alcoholic. It says ‘NA.’” I looked at the menu, and sure enough, there was “NA.”

Just as “NA” was foreign to me, some of the terms we use in newspapers are not familiar to our readers. One I’ve never cared for is “K-12,” our shorthand way of referring to schooling from kindergarten through high school. Spell out “kindergarten through 12th grade.”

###

Writing coach Jim Stasiowski welcomes your questions and comments. Call him at 410 247-4600 or write to 5812 Heron Drive, Baltimore, Md. 21227.