Fire that for a time threatened $2,000,000 worth of property destroyed $15,000 worth of lumber owned by the Milwaukee Lumber Company, 725 Clinton street, yesterday.... The territory between Mitchell street and the Kinnickinnic river and Reed street, to the lake, containing manufactories, dwellings and stores, was menaced. Milwaukee News.

5. Fire Fighting.—Not unusually a serious fire results from the fact that it was not checked for some reason or other during its earlier stages. Perhaps the whole thing might have been avoided, or, on the contrary, a big fire may be extinguished with unexpected ease or unusual skill. In rare cases this matter of very efficient or very inefficient fire fighting is of sufficient importance to take the first place in the lead. For example:

Almost total lack of water pressure is blamed for the big loss in a fire started by a firebug to-day in the five-story factory building of Lamchick Brothers, manufacturing company, 400-402 South Second street, Williamsburg. New York Mail. Rotten hose, which burst as fast as it was put in use, imperiled the lives of more than a score of firemen to-day at a blaze which swept the three-story frame flat house at Third avenue and Sixty-seventh street, Brooklyn, from cellar to roof, etc. New York Mail.

6. Crowd.—Not uncommonly in the city a tremendous crowd gathers to watch a fire and blocks traffic for hours. In the absence of other significant incidents—death, great loss, etc.—the reporter may begin his story with an account of the crowd present or the blockade of traffic. Such a beginning should always be used only as a last resort when a fire has no other interesting phase, for crowds always gather at fires and only a very serious blocking of traffic is worth reporting. Thus:

Fully 15,000 persons were attracted to the scene of the fire in the portion of the plant of the Greenwald Packing Company, Claremont Stock Yards, which was discovered at 4:56 yesterday afternoon. Baltimore American. Twenty-five thousand people jammed Broadway between Bleecker and Bond streets yesterday noon and had the excitement of watching 250 girls escape from a twelve-story loft building which was afire. New York Sun.

7. Miscellaneous.—There is an infinite number of things that may happen at a fire and overshadow the mere fire interest. These are the things that make one fire different from another, and whenever they are of sufficient importance they become the feature to be played up in the first line of the introduction. It would be impossible to enumerate all the unexpected things that might happen during a fire. It is this element of unexpected possibilities that makes the reporting of fires interesting, and an alert reporter is ever on the lookout for a new and unusual development in the fire to be used as the feature of his story. Here are the leads of a few fire stories clipped from the daily newspapers:

With her home on fire and the smoke swirling around her head, Mrs. B. B. Blank, a well-known leader of the social set of Roland Park, bravely stood by her telephone and called upon the Roland Park Fire Company for aid shortly after 8 o'clock this morning. Baltimore Star. Four charming young women attired in masculine apparel were the unexpected and embarrassed hosts of four companies of fire department "laddies" last night, when fire broke out, etc. Milwaukee Free Press. For the first time since its installation the high-pressure water power system was relied upon solely last night to fight a Broadway fire, and Chief Croker said that he was well satisfied with its work. The fire began on the third floor of the six-story, etc. New York Times.

C. FIRE STORIES WITH MORE THAN ONE FEATURE

It would appear from the foregoing examples that almost every fire story has a feature. And so it usually has. The great majority of fires that are worth reporting at all have some unusual incident connected with them that overshadows the mere fire itself. Sometimes the features are not of great significance, but it is only as a last resort that a reporter begins his story with "Fire"—only when the most ordinary of fires is to be covered.

Unusual features are so common in connection with fires that very often a single fire has more than one unusual feature. Perhaps the cause of the fire is exceptionally striking and at the same time the amount of property destroyed is of great news value in itself. Or the time and some unexpected attendant circumstance are both worth the first place. In that case the reporter has to choose between the two features and begin with the one that seems to him to be the more striking. The other feature or features may often be arranged in the order of importance immediately after the most striking fact at the beginning, provided that this does not make the lead unduly complicated.

For instance, a cold storage warehouse burns and four firemen are overcome by the fumes from the ammonia pipes. Next door is a hospital and the flames frighten the patients almost into a panic. Either one of these incidents is worth the first line of the story. But which one is of the greater importance? Naturally the element of danger to human life must be considered first and the actual disabling of four firemen is of greater significance than a possible panic in the hospital. Following that line of logic our story would begin:

Four firemen were overcome by ammonia fumes and a panic in the St. Charles Hospital was narrowly averted, as a result of a fire which destroyed the cold storage warehouse of, etc.

Such a lead would not be too complicated for practical purposes. But suppose that around the corner from the cold storage warehouse is a livery in which fifty horses are stabled. The flames frighten the horses and they break loose and stampede in the streets. The story now has three features of striking interest. It would be possible to combine them all in the lead and to begin in this way:

Four firemen were overcome by ammonia fumes, a panic was narrowly averted in the St. Charles Hospital, and fifty frightened horses stampeded in the streets as a result of a fire, etc.

But see how far from the beginning the fire, the actual cause of it all, is placed. The fire is buried behind a mass of details and the reader is confused. The lead is not a happy one. The only thing to do is to break up the mass of details and put part of them immediately after the lead. The arrangement is a matter that must be left to the judgment of the reporter.

This, however, is an extreme case because the various features are so disconnected and separate. The reporter would have little trouble if the several features were more alike. For instance, if one of the walls of the building had fallen and killed three firemen the case would have been simpler. The death of these men so far overshadows the other unusual incidents that it drives them out of the lead altogether. For we do not care about horses and frightened patients when men are crushed beneath falling walls. All that we are concerned with in our lead now is the dead and injured—with a feature like this we can trust our readers to go into the story far enough to pick up the other interesting features; we would begin in this way:

Three firemen were killed by falling walls and four others were overcome by ammonia fumes in a fire which destroyed the cold storage, etc.

The combination of dead and injured makes a good beginning, and it is always advisable to begin with such an enumeration whenever it is possible. Where the features are not so significant as death and injuries the matter of arranging more than one striking detail at the beginning of the lead becomes a greater problem. It must be left to one's own judgment and common sense. The lead must not be too long or complicated, and one must hesitate before burying the really important facts of the story behind several lines of more or less unusual details. Just as soon as the lead becomes at all confusing take out the details and put them into the story later.



VII

FAULTS IN NEWS STORIES

Before we go on to the consideration of other kinds of news stories it will be well to consider in greater detail the facts we have learned from writing up fires. Our fire stories should have taught us a number of things about the form of the news story. Let us sum them up.

Paragraph Length.—We have seen that newspaper writing has a characteristic style of its own. In the first place notice the length of a newspaper paragraph. Count the number of words in an average paragraph and compare it with the number of words in a literary paragraph. We find that the newspaper paragraph is much shorter. There is a reason for this. Imagine a 150-word literary paragraph set up in a newspaper. There are about seven words to the line in a newspaper column and one hundred and fifty words would make something over twenty lines. Try to picture a newspaper made up of twenty-line paragraphs; it would be extremely difficult to read. We glance over a newspaper hastily and our haste requires many breaks to help us in gathering the facts. Hence the paragraphs must be short; the very narrowness of the newspaper column causes them to be shortened. The average lead, you will find, contains less than fifty words and the paragraphs following it are not much longer.

Sentence Length.—Notice sentence lengths as compared with literary sentences. You will find that newspaper sentences usually fall into two classes: the sentences in the lead and the sentences in the body of the story. The first sentence is usually rather long—thirty to sixty words. But the sentences in the body of the story are much shorter than most literary sentences. Why is this? It results from exactly the same thing that makes the newspaper paragraphs short—the need of many breaks. Thus, after we finish a lead, we must fall into short sentences. They need not be choppy sentences, but they must be simple and easy to read.

THE LEAD AND THE BODY OF THE STORY

Our study of the fire story has shown that newspaper stories always have two separate and distinct parts: the lead and the body of the story. In writing the story a reporter must consider each part separately, although the reader does not distinguish between the two parts. Before writing a word the reporter must decide exactly what facts and details he is to put in the lead and exactly what fact he is going to play up in the first line, taking care to begin with the most interesting part of the story. After the lead is finished he writes the main body of the story in accordance with the rules of ordinary English composition. Each part must be separate and independent of the other.

The Lead.—The lead itself is always paragraphed separately. Usually it consists of a single sentence, although it is much better to break it into two than to make the sentence too long and complicated. As we have said before, the lead must not only tell the most interesting fact or incident in the story, but it must answer the natural questions that the reader immediately asks about this matter; i.e., when, where, what, why, who, and how. These questions must be answered briefly and concisely in their order of importance, and the most unusual answer or the most striking part of the story must precede all the rest. Beyond the answers to these questions there is no space for details in the lead. Every word must have a purpose and a necessary purpose or it must be cut out and relegated to the body of the story. No space should be given to explanations of minor importance. State the content of the news story as completely, accurately, and concisely as possible so that the reader may know just what happened, when it happened, where, to whom, and perhaps how and why it happened. Then begin a new paragraph and start the body of the story.

Many editors require that the lead consist of one long sentence and yet it must be grammatical. Many reporters forget all about English grammar in their attempt to crowd everything they know into one sentence. But mere quantity does not make the lead good; it must be grammatical and easy to read. The verb must have a grammatical subject and, if it is an active verb, it must have a grammatical predicate. Clauses and modifiers must be attached in a way that cannot be overlooked. Dangling participles and absolute constructions should be shunned. All of the modifying clauses must be gathered together either before or after the principal clause. Everything must be compact and logical. Many papers disregard this matter, as will be seen in some of the extracts quoted in this book, but the best papers do not.

Every lead should be so constructed that it may stand alone and be self-sufficient. Never should a reporter trust to headlines to enlighten his readers upon the meaning of the lead—the exact reverse of this must be true. The story is written first and the headlines are written from the facts contained in the lead—and usually by another man. In writing the lead disregard the existence of headlines, for many readers do not read them at all. This is but an amplification of the old rule of composition that any piece of writing should be independent of its title. The title may be lost, but the essay must be clear without it.

There are many ways of beginning a lead in order to embody the feature in the first line. At first glance the operation of putting the emphasis of a sentence at the beginning, rather than at the end, may seem difficult, but with a clear idea of the rules of dependence in English grammar a reporter may transpose any clause to the beginning and thus play up the content of the clause. For instance, in this lead,

Fire, starting in a moving picture theatre, 4418 Third avenue, drove the tenants of the building out into the icy street while the snowstorm was at its height shortly before 12 o'clock last night.

the striking feature of the story is buried—we do not get the unusual picture of a little group of people shivering in the street during a blinding snowstorm while they watch their homes burn. A simple transposition of the while-clause puts the feature in the first line. Thus:

While the snowstorm was at its height shortly before 12 o'clock last night, fire, starting in a moving picture theatre, 4418 Third avenue, drove the tenants of the building out into the icy street.

The lead is not perfect now; it might be greatly improved, but it is better than before.

A few of the possible beginnings for a lead are:

1. Noun.—The simplest beginning of a lead is of course the use of a noun as subject of the principal verb. For example, "Fire destroyed the residence of——" or "A flashlight setting fire to a lace curtain started a fire——" or "The Plaza Hotel had a few uncomfortable moments last night——" etc. The subject of the verb may of course have its modifiers—adjectives and phrases—but it should not be separated too widely from its verb. One point is to be noted in the use of a simple noun at the beginning; an article should not precede the noun if it can be avoided, for the very simple reason that an article is not worth the important space that it takes at the beginning of the lead. In the case of fire no article is necessary. In other cases it is usually possible to put in an adjective or some other word that will take the article's place. However, never begin a story like this: "Supreme Court of the United States decided——" or "Young man in evening dress was arrested last night——" or "House of John Smith was destroyed yesterday——". Obviously something is lacking and, if no other word will supply the lack, use the article, the or a. When the noun-beginning is used the reporter must never forget that two or more nouns, however different, if subject of the same verb, require a plural verb. The verb may be active or passive, whichever is more convenient, but rarely is the object of an active verb put first—simply because English cannot bear this transposition of subject and predicate.

2. Infinitive.—Other parts of speech aside from nouns may be subjects of verbs and so other parts of speech as subjects of the principal verb of the lead may be placed at the beginning of the lead. An infinitive with its object and modifier may occupy the first line as subject of the main verb; e.g.:

To rescue his own son during the burning of his own house was a part of yesterday's work for Fireman Michael Casey, who, etc.

Here the infinitive "to rescue" and its object are the subject of the verb "was," and the construction is perfectly grammatical. Unfortunately the English language has another infinitive which very much resembles a present participle—the infinitive ending in -ing; e.g., rescuing. Without an article this part of speech must, of course, be used only as an adjective, but with an article it becomes an infinitive, to be treated as a noun; e.g., the rescuing of. It would be perfectly grammatical to begin the above lead in this way: "The rescuing of his own son ... was the work, etc." But it would be ungrammatical to begin it thus: "Rescuing his own son was the work, etc." For in the second case the word "rescuing," if used with an object, is not an infinitive but a participle, and must be used only as an adjective, thus: "Rescuing his own son, Fireman Casey performed his duty, etc.," or "In rescuing his own son, Fireman Casey performed his duty." The two uses should never be confused.

3. Clause.—Another expression that may be used as subject of the lead's principal verb is a clause—usually a that-clause. For instance, "That the entire wholesale district was not destroyed by fire last night is due to, etc." Here the that-clause is subject of the verb is and the expression is entirely grammatical as well as very useful as a beginning.

4. Prepositional Phrase.—When the feature of a story is an action rather than a thing, a noun can hardly be used to express it. Very often this lead may be handled by means of a prepositional phrase at the beginning. For example, one of the stories in the last chapter begins: "With her home on fire and with smoke swirling around her head, Mrs. John, etc." In this case the prepositional phrase modifies the subject and should not be far from it. Another variation of this is the prepositional phrase of time, modifying the verb; e.g., "During the wedding of Miss Mary Jones, last night, the house suddenly caught fire, etc." This beginning is effective if it is not overworked, but the reader should never be held back from the real facts of the story by a string of complicated phrases, intended to build up suspense.

5. Participial Phrase.—Very much like the prepositional phrase beginning is the participial beginning. "Sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder with a woman in his arms, Fireman John Casey rescued, etc." It must be borne in mind that the participial phrase must modify a noun and there should be no doubt in the reader's mind as to the noun that it modifies. It would of course be absurd to say "Sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder, fire seriously burned John Casey——," but such things are often said. Never should this participial phrase be used as the subject of a verb, as "Returning home and finding her house in ashes was the unusual experience of Mrs. James, etc." The phrase must always modify a noun just like an adjective.

6. Temporal Clause.—A feature may often be brought to the beginning of the lead by a simple transposition of clauses. Should the time be important a subordinate when or while clause may precede the principal clause of the sentence; i.e., "When the snowstorm was at its height early this morning, a three-story brick building burned, etc.," or "While 15,000 people watched from the street below, 250 girls escaped from the burning building at, etc."

7. Causal Clause.—Should the cause of an action or an occurrence be attractive enough for the first line, a for or a because clause may begin the lead. "Because a tinsmith upset a pot of molten solder on the roof of pier No. 19, two steamers were burned, etc."

* * * * *

This does not exhaust the list of possible beginnings. There are a dozen possible constructions for the beginning of any story; these are merely the commonest ones. Anything unusual or of doubtful grammar should be avoided because of the many possible alternatives that present themselves. And in every lead correct grammar should be considered above all else. If a lead is ungrammatical no clever arrangement of details can make it effective or other than ludicrous. For instance, this lead, taken from a newspaper, illustrates an unfortunate attempt to crowd too many details into a short lead:

Bitten by a rattlesnake, Myrtle Olson's leg was slashed with a table knife, washed the wound with kerosene, then covered the incision with salt by her mother. Myrtle still lives.

Another paper tried to arrange it more happily, thus:

Bitten by a rattlesnake, Myrtle Olson's mother slashed her daughter's leg with a table knife, washed the wound with kerosene, then covered the incision with salt. Myrtle still lives.

There is evidently something wrong in this. It would be a good exercise to try to express the idea grammatically.

* * * * *

Before we go on to the consideration of the body of this story a few Don'ts in regard to writing leads may be in order.

Don't begin a lead with a person's name unless the person is well known. We are always interested in anything unusual that a man may do or anything unusual that he may suffer, but unless we know the man we are not at all interested in his name. Suppose that a man performs some thrilling act or suffers some unusual misfortune in a city of 100,000 people. Probably not more than one hundred people know him, and of that number only one or two will read the story. Then why begin with his name when his action is of greater interest to all but a few of our readers? And yet every reader wants to know whether the victim is one of his friends. Therefore the man's name must be mentioned in the lead, although it should not come at the beginning. On the other hand, if the man is prominent in the nation or the community and well known to all our readers, his name adds interest to the story and we begin with the name. There is a growing tendency among American newspapers to begin all of their stories with a name. The tendency appears to be the result of an attempt to break away from the conventional lead and to begin in a more natural way—also an easier way. But the name beginning is after all illogical, and any reporter is safe in following the logical course in the matter. If the name is not important begin with something that is important.

Don't waste the main verb of the sentence on a minor action while expressing the principal action in a subordinate clause. This is a violation of emphasis. For example, "Fatally burned by an explosion in his laundry, Hing Lee was taken to the hospital." Naturally he would be taken to the hospital, but why put the emphasis of the whole sentence on that point?

Don't resort to the expression "was the unusual experience of——" "was the fate of——" or any like them. Every word in the lead must count, and here are five words that say nothing at all. Use their place to tell what the unusual experience was. For instance, don't say "To stand in a driving snowstorm and watch their homes burn to the ground was the unusual experience of two families, living at, etc."; say instead, "Standing in a driving snowstorm two families watched their homes burn to the ground." The latter says the same thing more effectively in less space. The use of this expression—"was the unusual experience of"—is always the mark of a green reporter.

Don't overwork the expression "Fire broke out." All fires "break out," but usually we are more interested in the result of the fire than in its "breaking out." Try to use some expression that will give more definite information.

Don't be wordy. Editors are always calling for shorter and more concise leads. If you can say a thing in two words don't use half a dozen. For example, "Four members of the local fire department were rendered unconscious by the deadly fumes from bursting ammonia pipes." This takes three times as much space as "Four firemen were overcome by ammonia fumes," and it does not express the idea any more effectively.

Don't introduce minor details into the lead. If the reader wants the details he may read the rest of the story. Take the following lead as an example:

Rushing back into his burning laundry, a one-story brick building, to rescue from the flames his savings, amounting to $437, with which he hoped to raise himself from the rank of laborer to that of a prosperous merchant, and which was hidden under the mattress of his bed in the back room of the laundry, Hing Lee, a Chinaman, who lives at 79 Nicollett avenue and has been in this country but three months, was overcome by smoke and so seriously burned that he had to be removed to the St. Mary Hospital and may not live, when his establishment was destroyed by a fire which, starting from the explosion of the tank of the gasolene stove on which he was cooking his dinner, gutted his laundry, entailing a loss of $1,000, shortly before noon to-day.

It is entirely grammatical, but if the reader succeeds in wading through it there is nothing left to tell about the fire. Why not begin the story in this way and leave something for the rest of the story?

Because he rushed back into his burning laundry to rescue his savings, Hing Lee, a Chinese laundryman, 79 Nicollett avenue, was seriously burned to-day.

Don't waste the first line of the lead on meaningless generalities. Get down to the facts at once. For instance, "The presence of mind and bravery of Fireman David Mullen saved Mrs. Daniel Looker from being burned to death in her flat, etc." We are willing to grant his bravery and presence of mind, but we want to know at once what he did: "By sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder through flames and smoke with an unconscious woman in his arms, Fireman David Mullen rescued Mrs. Daniel, etc." Equally useless is the beginning, "A daring rescue of an unconscious woman from the fourth story of a blazing flat building was made by Fireman David Mullen to-day, etc." Tell what the daring rescue was and let the reader manufacture a fitting eulogy.

Don't exaggerate the facts to make a feature. When a few persons are frightened don't turn it into a dreadful panic. Every little fire is not a holocaust and the burning of a small barn does not endanger the entire city, unless your imagination is strong enough to guess what might have happened had there been a high wind and no fire engines. A narrow escape from death does not always excuse the beginning, "Scores killed and injured would have been the result, if——" All beginnings of this kind give a false impression and do not tell the truth. If a story has no striking feature be satisfied to tell the truth about it without trying to make a world-wide disaster out of it for the sake of a place on the front page. Exaggeration for a feature is one of the bad elements of sensational journalism. For example, seven lives were lost in this fire, but this is the way the story was written, for the sake of a three-column scare-head:

That 500 sleeping babes and 100 more who were kneeling in prayer in St. Malachi's Home, a Roman Catholic institution for the care of orphans at Rockaway Park, are alive to-day is due to the coolness of the nuns in charge and the children's remembrance of their teacher's fire drills.

The suspense is built up in such a way that at the end of the lead we do not know what happened and read on with breathless interest to find that there was a small fire at the Home and seven children were burned.

The Body of the Story.—"A good beginning is half done," according to the proverb. In writing a news story a good beginning is more than half done—two-thirds at least. The lead is the beginning, and when that has been written we are ready to go on to the body of the story with a clear conscience.

Our lead has told the reader the main facts of the case and the most unusual feature. If he reads further he is looking for details. In giving him these we return to the ordinary rules of narration. We start at the very beginning of the story and tell it logically and in detail to the end. We tell it as if no lead preceded it and repeat in greater detail the incidents briefly outlined in the lead. Never should the body of the story depend upon the lead for clearness. If the feature of the story is a rescue and you have briefly described the rescue in the lead, ignore the lead and describe the rescue all over again in the body of the story in its proper place. The number of details that are to be introduced into the story is limited only by the space that the story seems to be worth. But no point should be mentioned in the story unless space permits of its being made clear.

The ordinary rules of English composition apply to the writing of the body of the story. The copy must be paragraphed, cut up into paragraphs that are rather shorter than ordinary literary paragraphs, since the narrowness of the newspaper column makes the paragraph seem longer. Heterogeneous details must not be piled together in the same paragraph, but the facts must be grouped and handled logically. No paragraph should be noticeably longer than the others, and it is decidedly bad to paragraph one sentence alone simply because it does not seem to go in with any other sentence. If the fact is important expand it into a paragraph by the introduction of further details; if it is unimportant either cut it out of the story altogether or attach it to the paragraph to which it seems most logically to belong.

One fact, already stated, must be borne in mind as the body of the story progresses. The report should be built up in such a way that the editor can slash off a paragraph or two at the end without injuring the story—without sacrificing any important facts. To do this the reporter should bring the important parts of the story as near the beginning as the logical order will permit. The interest of a perfect news story is like an inverted cone. The interest is abundant at the beginning and gradually dwindles out until there is nothing more to say when the end is reached. Just how far the dwindling should be carried depends upon the amount of space that the story seems to be worth in the paper.

This may seem difficult. It may be hard to see how a story can be told in its logical order while at the same time the most interesting facts are placed at the beginning, even if they logically belong near the end. For example, we may take the story of an unusual robbery. A well-dressed man goes into a grocery store to get some butter and tries to rob the grocer. In the ensuing scuffle the would-be robber escapes. A young woman who happens to be passing sees the end of the fight and pursues the robber down the street until he runs into a saloon. She calls a policeman who is standing on the corner and the officer rushes into the saloon, up three flights of stairs and finds the robber on the roof behind a chimney. The officer shouts to another policeman, and together they arrest the robber.

Now, what is the most interesting thing in the story? Probably the pursuit—a young woman chasing a robber down the street. Our lead might be written in this way:

After being chased down Sixth street by a young woman, a robber, who had attempted to rob the grocery store of Charles Young, 1345 Sixth street, was arrested on the roof of a saloon at 835 Sixth street, at 7 o'clock last night.

The lead might be arranged in a different way, but these are the facts that it would contain. Before we consider the arrangement of the body of the story it may be well to go back to the interviews by which we secured the story. In getting the facts we would probably talk to Young, the groceryman, and to the saloonkeeper into whose establishment the robber fled. We could probably interview the policeman who made the arrest, but let us suppose that the young woman could not be found. The groceryman would tell us about the attempted robbery and the escape, with the girl in pursuit. The saloonkeeper would tell us how the man fled into his saloon and ran up the stairs to the roof; then how two policemen came and made the arrest. The policeman could tell us how a young woman ran up to him and told him that a robber had fled into the saloon; then he would describe the arrest. None of these stories is told just as we want the newspaper story—each one tells us only a part of the story. If the finished story were written by a green reporter it would probably tell the story in the order in which it was obtained. That is if the reporter saw the policeman first, then the saloonkeeper, and lastly the groceryman; his story would tell in the first paragraph what the policeman said, in the second paragraph what the saloonkeeper said, and in the last paragraph what the grocer said. At least that is the way in which green reporters in the classroom attempted to write the story.

But, obviously, that is not the logical way to tell the story. The finished account should be written in the order in which it happened: i.e., first the robbery, then the pursuit, and lastly the arrest. This would be the ideal way to tell the story—according to the rules of English composition—if we could be sure that the entire story would be printed. But if it were written in this way and the editor decided to slash off the last paragraph, what would go? Obviously the arrest would not be printed; and the arrest was quite interesting. We must find some way to bring the arrest nearer to the beginning. This may be done by selecting the most interesting parts of the story—by picking out the high spots, as it were. In this story the high spots are the attempted robbery, the pursuit, and the arrest. The details that fill in between are interesting, but not so interesting as these high spots. Hence these high spots of interest must be pushed forward toward the beginning. After the lead the story would begin at the beginning and tell the affair briefly by high spots in their proper order. It might be something like this:

As Charles Young was closing his grocery last evening a young man came in and asked for a pound of butter. Young turned to get it and his customer struck him over the head with a chair. The grocer grappled with his assailant and they fell through the front door. In the scramble, the robber broke away and ran down Sixth street. A young woman who was passing screamed and ran after him until he disappeared into a saloon. The young woman called Policeman Smith, who was standing nearby on Grand avenue, and the latter found the would-be robber on the roof of the saloon. After a struggle, Smith arrested the man, with the aid of another policeman.

The above account tells us briefly the most interesting parts of the story. A copyreader might not find it perfect, for the assault is allotted too much space and the pursuit too little, but it tells the story in its baldest aspect. This, with the lead, could be run alone. However, perhaps the story is worth more space; at any rate, many interesting details have been omitted. If so, go back to the most interesting part of the story—the assault, perhaps, or the pursuit—and tell it with more details. Then retell some other part with more details. If your readers are interested enough to read beyond the first three paragraphs they want details and will not be so particular about the order—for they already know how the story is going to end.

This is one way of meeting the requirements of logical order and dwindling interest. This is a particularly hard story to arrange in the conventional way since we must have the whole story to be interested in any single part—it has too many striking incidents in it. On the other hand, a story which contains only one striking incident is much easier to handle. Suppose that we are reporting a fire which is interesting only for its cause or for a daring rescue in it. Our lead would suggest this interesting element and the first part of our story would be devoted entirely to the cause or to the rescue, as the case might be. But it is better to sketch briefly, immediately after or very close to the lead, the entire story, for our readers want to know how it ends before they can be interested in any particular part. If we sketch the whole story and show them that there is only one important thing in the story, they will be satisfied to read about the one striking incident without wondering if there is not something more interesting further on. If we leave the conclusion of the story to the end of our copy the editor may cut it off and leave our story dangling in midair. Every story must be treated in its own way, according to its own incidents and difficulties; no two stories are alike in substance or treatment. In every one our aim must be to keep to the logical order and at the same time to put the most interesting parts of the story near the beginning.

The construction of the body of a story may be illustrated more clearly by a fatal fire story—since fire stories are more uniform, and hence easier to write than other news stories. Let us suppose that the story is as follows: At four o'clock in the afternoon a fire started from some unknown cause in the basement of a four-story brick building at 383-385 Sixth Street, occupied by the Incandescent Light Company. Before the fire company arrived the flames had spread up through the building and into an adjoining three-story brick building at 381 Sixth Street, occupied by Isaac Schmidt's second-hand store and home on the first and second floors and by Mrs. Sarah Jones's boarding house on the third. The Schmidts were away and Mrs. Jones's lodgers escaped via the fire escapes. Her cook, Hilda Schultz, was overcome by smoke and had to be carried out by Jack Sweeney, a lodger. Mrs. Jones fell from the fire escape and was badly bruised. Meanwhile the firemen were at work on the roof of the burning four-story building. Blinded by the smoke, one of them, John MacBane, stepped through a skylight and fell to the fourth floor. His comrades tried to rescue him by lowering Fireman Henry Bond into the smoke by the heels; they were unsuccessful and Bond broke his arm in the attempt. The fire was confined to the lower floors of the two buildings and extinguished. In searching for MacBane, the firemen found him suffocated on the fourth floor where he had fallen.

The feature of the story is evidently the one death and the three injuries. Our lead might be written as follows:

One fireman was suffocated and three other persons were injured in a fire in the Incandescent Light Company's plant, 383-385 Sixth street, and an adjoining three-story building, late yesterday afternoon.

This lead would suggest to the reader many interesting details to come in the body of the story, and evidently the details are not all of equal importance. The story could be told in its logical order, but, since the death is more interesting than the origin of the fire and the injuries are more significant than how the fire spread, it is obvious that it would not be best to tell the story in the order in which it is told above.

Disregarding the lead, we must cover the following details in the body of our story:

Description of buildings and occupants. Origin of fire. Discovery of fire. Spread of flames. Injury of Mrs. Jones. Rescue of Hilda Schultz. Death of MacBane. Injury of Bond. Fire extinguished.

This is the order in which things occurred at the fire. However, in our lead, we have drawn attention to our story by announcing that it concerns a fire in which a man was killed; the death therefore should have first place in the body of the story. Hence, in the second paragraph immediately after the lead, we must tell how MacBane fell through the skylight and was suffocated. Along with his death we may as well tell how Bond broke his arm trying to rescue MacBane. Our lead has also announced two other injuries and, hence, they must be included next—that is, our third paragraph must be devoted to the injury of Mrs. Jones and the rescue of the unconscious Hilda. But as yet our details are hanging in the air because we have not said anything about the buildings or the fire itself. In the next paragraph it would be well to describe the buildings and their occupants and to give a very brief account of the course of the fire—perhaps in this way:

Flames were first discovered in the basement of the Incandescent building and before the fire department arrived had spread through the lower floors and into the adjoining three-story building. The absence of elevator shafts and air-shafts enabled the firemen to extinguish the blaze before it reached the upper floors.

This tells the main course of the fire, but there are some interesting details to add: first, the origin of the fire; next, the discovery; then more about how the fire spread; and lastly, how the fire was extinguished. Our story by paragraphs would read as follows:

1st Paragraph—The lead.

2d Paragraph—Death of MacBane and injury of Bond.

3d Paragraph—Mrs. Jones's injury and Hilda's rescue.

4th Paragraph—Buildings, occupants, brief course of fire.

5th Paragraph—Detailed account of origin of the fire.

6th Paragraph—How the fire was discovered.

7th Paragraph—More about the spread and course of the fire.

8th Paragraph—How the fire was extinguished.

9th Paragraph—Loss, insurance, extent of damage.

Thus, while telling the story almost in its logical order, we have picked out the high spots of interest and crowded them to the beginning. Our readers will get the facts just about as fast as they wish to read them and in the order in which they wish them. Our story may be run in nine paragraphs or even more; or the editor may slash off anything after the fourth paragraph without taking away any of the essential facts of the fire. This method of telling would fulfill all the requirements of an ideal news story. A similar outline of the facts that any story must present will often help a reporter to tell his story as it should be told. After listing the details he may number them in their order of importance and check them off as he has told them.

* * * * *

This idea of throwing the emphasis and interest to the beginning applies to the individual paragraphs and sentences of the story, as well. Each paragraph must begin strongly and display its most interesting content in the first line. The emphatic part of each sentence should be the beginning. A glance at any newspaper column shows why this is necessary.

The body of a news story is the place for the reporter's skill and style. He is given all the liberties of ordinary narration and should make the most of every word. His individual style comes into play here. If the interest can be increased by a bit of dialogue the reporter may put it in. If the facts can be presented more effectively by means of direct quotation, the words of any one whom the reporter has interviewed may be of interest. However, these things must not be overworked because every trick of writing loses its effectiveness when it is overworked.

Dialogue used only to give facts which might be told more clearly in simple direct form should seldom be used. Dialogue in a news story is used only to color the story and not to reproduce the interviews by which the facts were obtained. In gathering the facts of a story it is sometimes necessary to interview a number of people, but these interviews should not be quoted in the resulting story. Many a green reporter tries to give his story character by telling what the policeman on the corner, the janitor, and a small boy in the street told him about the incident. He succeeds only in dragging out the length of his story and confusing the reader. After all, the purpose of a newspaper is to give facts—and the clearer and the more direct the method the better will be the result.

In striving for clearness and interest a reporter must remember that one of his greatest assets is concreteness of expression. Of all forms of composition newspaper writing possesses probably the greatest opportunity for definiteness. Facts and events are its one concern; theories and abstractions are beyond its range. Hence the more definite and concrete its presentation of facts, the better will be its effect. The reporter should never generalize or present his statements hazily and uncertainly—a fact is a fact and must be presented as such. He must try to avoid such expressions as "several," "many," "a few"—it is usually possible to give the exact number. He must continually ask himself "how many?" "what kind?" "exactly when?" "exactly what?" Expressions like "about a dozen," "about thirty years old," "about a week ago," "about a block away," are never so effective as the exact facts and figures. Definite concrete details make a news story real and vivid. The real reporter of news is the one who can see a thing clearly and with every detail and present it as clearly and distinctly.



VIII

OTHER NEWS STORIES

The fire story is obviously not the only news story that is printed in a daily newspaper, but a study of its form gives us a working knowledge of the writing of other news stories. The fire story is probably the commonest news story, and it is by far the easiest story to handle, for its form has become somewhat standardized. We know just exactly what our readers want to know about each fire, and within certain limits all fires, as well as the reports of them, are very much alike. There is seldom more than one fact or incident that makes one fire different from another and that fact we always seize as the feature of our report. However, the fire story has been taken only as typical of other news stories. Now we are ready to study the others, using the fire story as our model in writing the others.

There is a vast number of other stories that we must be able to write, and they lack the convenient uniformity that fires have. Not only does every story have a different feature, but it is concerned with a different kind of happening. One assignment may call for the report of an explosion, another the report of a business transaction, and another a murder. In each one we have to get the facts and choose the most striking fact as our feature. Never can we resort to the simple beginning "Fire destroyed," but we must find a different beginning for each assignment.

Just as in the fire story, the lead of any news story is the most important part. It must begin with the most striking part of the event and answer the reader's Where? When? How? Why? and Who? concerning it. All the rules that apply to the fire lead apply to the lead of any story.

It would be impossible to classify all the news stories that a newspaper must print. The very zest of reporting comes from the changing variety of the work; no two assignments are ever exactly alike—if they were only one would be worth printing. Newspapers themselves make no attempt to classify the ordinary run of news or to work out a systematic division of labor; a reporter may be called upon to cover a fire, a political meeting, a murder, a business story, all in the same day. Each one is simply a story and must be covered in the same way that all the rest are covered—by many interviews for facts. For our study it may be well to divide news stories into a few large groups. The groups overlap and are not entirely distinct, but the stories in each group have some one thing in common that may aid us in learning how to write them. At most, the list is only a very incomplete summary of the more important kinds of news stories and is intended to be merely a suggestive way of supplying the student with necessary practice.

1. Accidents.—Accident stories may be anything from a sprained ankle to a disastrous railroad wreck, but they all depend upon one element for their interest. They are all printed because people in general are interested in the injuries and deaths of other people—physical calamity is the common ground in all these stories.

The number of possible accidents is infinite, but there are some common types that recur most often. Among these are: railroad, trolley, railroad crossing accidents; runaways; electrocutions; explosions; collapse of buildings; marine disasters; cave-in accidents; elevator, automobile, aviation accidents.

The feature of any accident story is always, of course, the thing that made the story worth printing, and that is usually the human life element. The feature of an accident story is almost always the number of dead and injured. Most reports of railroad wrecks begin with "Ten persons were killed and seventeen were injured in a wreck, etc." The same is true of any accident story; if more than one person is killed it is usually safe to begin with the number of fatalities. In this connection it may be noted that the death of railroad employees seldom makes a story worth printing; they may be included in the total number, but if no passengers are killed, fatalities among trainmen seldom give a story any news value.

Accident stories of course have many other possible features; newspapers report many accidents in which no one is killed. In that case some other element gives the story news value and that element must be played up as the feature. Perhaps it is the manner in which the accident happened or the manner in which a person was killed or injured, as in an automobile accident. The cause of the accident may be the most interesting part of the story: train-wreckers or a broken rail in a railroad wreck, or the cause of an explosion. Very often an accident is reported simply because some well-known person was connected with it in some way; the name then becomes the feature and comes into the first line. A story may be worth printing simply because of the unusual manner of rescue; such a feature is often played up in stories of marine accidents, cave-ins, etc. Not infrequently some of the unusual attendant circumstances give a story news value: e.g., a policeman dragged from his horse and run over by an automobile while he is trying to stop a runaway.

Here are some accident stories from the newspapers:

Fatalities:

Six men were killed and a dozen seriously injured early to-day by an outbound Panhandle passenger train crashing into the rear end of a Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul stock train at Twelfth and Rockwell streets. Chicago Record-Herald.

Manner:

Run down by her own automobile, which she was cranking, at First and G streets, northwest, Dr. Alma C. Arnold, a chiropractic physician, 825 Fifteenth street, northwest, was forced against the wheel of a passing wagon and seriously injured this morning. Washington Times.

Cause:

Over-balanced by a granite stone weighing four tons, the entire cornice over the west portico of the new west wing of the capitol fell to the ground this afternoon, carrying with it Daniel Logan, foreman for the Woodbury Granite Company. Madison Democrat.

Attendant Circumstances:

With a blast that shook the entire city and was believed by many to be an earthquake, three boilers in the new engine house of the Pabst brewery on Tenth street, between Chestnut street and Cold Spring avenue, exploded at about 4 o'clock this morning. Milwaukee Free Press.

2. Robberies.—Another large class of news stories is concerned with robberies of various kinds. Unfortunately for the reporter, very few robberies are alike; beyond the common ground of the interest in the amount stolen and the cleverness of the robber's work, there is seldom any one thing that may be looked for as the feature of a robbery story. The reporter must decide what in the story makes it worth printing.

Robbery stories may include anything from petty thievery to bank defaulting. Some of the possibilities are horse and automobile stealing, burglary, hold-ups, train and street-car robbery, embezzlement, fraud, kidnapping, safe-cracking, shop and bank robbery. It is well for the reporter who has to cover a story of this class to acquaint himself with the distinctions that characterize the various kinds of robbery and the various names applied to the people who commit this sort of crime: e.g., robber, thief, bandit, burglar, hold-up man, thug, embezzler, defaulter, safe-cracker, pick-pocket.

In general the chief interest in robbery stories is in the result of the work—the amount taken—usually accompanied by a term to designate the sort of robbery. Just how the crime was committed is often the feature, as in a train robbery or a clever case of fraud. If the victim or victims are at all well known their names may become the most interesting thing in the story—or even the name of a well-known criminal or band of robbers. In some stories, especially if another paper has already covered the story, the pursuit or capture of the criminals is often interesting; the stories of bank robberies often begin in this way. Other attendant circumstances, such as the number of persons who witnessed the crime, may be the feature. In hold-ups, burglaries, and crimes of that sort, the death or wounding of the victim is often played up. Sometimes the reason for the crime, as in a kidnapping case, is of great significance. In the case of a robbery of a bank or any other institution which depends upon credit for its business, the story usually begins with, or at least mentions near the beginning, the present condition of the robbed institution. It is safe to say that in no case is the name of the criminal, the manner of his arrest (if it is not unusual), the police station to which he was taken, or the charge preferred against him worth a place in the lead.

Some robbery stories from the daily press:

Amount taken:

Furs worth $40,000 were stolen in the early hours of yesterday morning within a stone's throw of Madison Square. Apparently a gang in which there was a woman expert in choosing only the best furs carried off the costly skins, etc. New York World.

Manner of hold-up:

Seized by thugs in broad daylight as he was crossing the railroad tracks at the foot of First avenue east, Fred Butzer, a stonemason of Butler, Minn., was thrown to the ground, a gag placed in his mouth, his pockets were rifled of $36. Duluth News-Tribune.

Unusual sort of pickpocket:

A young man in evening dress, who was going down into the subway station at Times Square with the theater crowd that filled the entrance just outside of the Hotel Knickerbocker early last night, paused, knocked a woman under the chin and took away her silver chatelaine purse containing $20 as deftly as he might have flicked the ash off his cigarette. Then he disappeared. New York Times.

Unusual thieves:

Two girl thieves not more than twelve years old and small in stature for their age have been operating with great success in the different stores in the neighborhood of Amsterdam avenue and Seventy-ninth street. Five or six thefts, etc. New York Telegram.

Pursuit and capture:

After a chase along Forty-second street and up the steps of the Hotel Manhattan, a woman, who said she was Sadie Brown, thirty-three years old, of No. 215 West Forty-sixth street, was arrested early today on suspicion of having picked the pocket of a man at, etc. New York Telegram.

Present conditions of robbed bank (second paragraph of an embezzlement story):

Banking Commissioner Watkins this afternoon declared that he found the bank perfectly sound, that all commercial paper was found intact, that none of the accounts have been juggled and that no erasures of any kind were discovered. Philadelphia Inquirer.

Unusual sort of burglar:

Wearing a Salvation Army uniform, a burglar was caught early yesterday in the home of Walter Katte, a vice-president of the New York Central railroad, at Irvington-on-the-Hudson. New York World.

3. Murder.—The reports of crimes of this sort can hardly be classified, for there are so many things that may be worth featuring in any murder case. The story itself is usually of such importance that the mere fact that a murder has been committed gives it news value even if there is nothing unusual in the crime—just as in the case of a featureless fire story that begins with "Fire." The handling of a crime depends upon the character and circumstances; the reporter must weigh the facts in each case for himself. However, we usually find a feature in the number of persons murdered, the manner in which the crime was committed, the name of the victim, if he or she is well known, the reason for the deed, or in some of the many attendant circumstances, such as arrest, pursuit, etc. One rule must always be followed in the reporting of a murder story: the reporter must confine himself to the necessary facts and omit as many of the gruesome details as possible. He must tell it in a cold, hard-hearted way without elaboration, for the story in itself is gruesome enough. Just as soon as a murder story begins to expand upon shocking details it becomes the worst sort of a yellow story.

Examples of murder stories from the newspapers:

Manner:

After crushing in the head of his superior officer with an axe, James Layton, boatswain of the Liverpool sailing ship Colony, refused to submit to arrest, and, still waving the bloody weapon, committed suicide by jumping into the sea. New York Mail.

Motive:

In revenge for a beating he received the day before, Gaetona Ambrifi yesterday shot and instantly killed Frank Ricciliano, a sub-section foreman on the Pennsylvania Railroad, while they were working on the roadbed near Peddle street, Newark. New York Sun.

Prominent name:

Mayor William J. Gaynor of New York City was shot and seriously, perhaps fatally, wounded on board the steamer Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse at 9:30 as he was sailing for Europe.

Resulting pursuit:

The police of Brooklyn have another murder mystery to unravel through the finding early today of the body of Peter Barilla on Lincoln road, near Nostrand avenue, Flatbush. There were two bullet wounds in the body and four stab wounds in the back. Brooklyn Eagle.

Attendant circumstances:

A hundred or more persons who were about to take trains witnessed the shooting to death of a Jersey City business man in the Pennsylvania Railroad station there this afternoon. New York Mail.

4. Suicide.—What is true of murder stories is also true of suicide. Each individual case has an unusual feature of its own. We ordinarily find a good beginning in the manner of the suicide, the name of the person who has killed himself if he is well known, the reason for the act, or some one of the attendant circumstances—often the manner of resuscitation if the crime is unsuccessful. For some unexplained reason many papers do not print accounts of ordinary suicides, except when the individual is prominent. At any rate the story must be told without gruesome details and as briefly as possible.

Examples from the press:

Name:

William L. Murray of Rockview avenue, North Plainfield, paying teller of the Empire Trust Company of New York, committed suicide at Scotch Plains early this afternoon by shooting himself in the head. No reason is assigned for the act. New York Sun.

Motive:

Driven insane by continued brooding over ill health, Miss Ada Emerson, a former teacher in the Beloit city schools, killed herself in a crowded interurban car Saturday afternoon by slashing her throat with a razor. Beloit Free Press.

Here the manner is the feature, but it is not played up in the first line because it is too horrible.

5. Big Stories.—The big stories of catastrophes are usually handled on a large scale—played up, as the newspaper men say. The story in itself is of sufficient importance to make it unnecessary to play up any single feature of the story. However, the reporter, in looking for a good beginning, often finds it in the most startling fact in the story. If he is reporting a riot he usually begins with the number of killed or injured, the amount of property destroyed, the character of the riot, or the cause, as in this example:

In an effort to bring about the reinstatement of one of their number who had been discharged for non-unionism, a hundred or more journeymen bakers wrecked the bakeshop of Pincus Jacobs, at No. 1571 Lexington avenue, early this morning. New York Evening Post.

In the case of a storm the human life element is of greatest importance, then the damage to property, and last, the peculiar circumstances. For example:

CLEVELAND, Dec. 11. Fifty-nine lives were the cost of a storm which passed over Lake Erie Wednesday night and Thursday, and more than $1,000,000 worth of vessel property was destroyed. New York Evening Post.

If the story is concerned with a flood the human-life element is first, then the damage, the cause, the freaks of the flood, or the present situation. For example:

PARKERSBURG, W. Va., March 10. Three persons are known to have perished in a flood which swept down upon the city on Friday when two water reservoirs on Prospect Hill burst without warning. Forty houses were destroyed and many persons are missing. The property damage will be nearly $500,000.

6. Police Court News.—The ordinary run of police court news is in a class by itself. Usually the only news value in the story depends upon some unusual incident or circumstance that attracts the attention of the reporter. This is of course the source of many of the stories of crime, mentioned before, but many stories turn up at the police courts which are not concerned with crime, although in some cases they are concerned with criminals. In this field of reporting there are many opportunities for the human-interest story which will be taken up in a later chapter. When the incident is reported in an ordinary news story the feature is usually in some attendant circumstance and the story might well be classed with one of the above groups. Here are two examples from the daily press:

Because he did not have sufficient money to buy flowers for his sweetheart, Henry Trupke, aged 21 years, forged a check for $22.50 on a grocer, J. Sieberlich, 781 Third street, and after a week's chase was caught last night as he got off a Wisconsin Central train. Milwaukee Sentinel.

But a few hours before receiving a sentence of two years in the house of correction for stealing furs from the store of Lohse Bros., 117 Wisconsin street, John Garner, self-confessed thief, was married to Rose Strean, one of the witnesses in the case, which was tried yesterday in the municipal court. Milwaukee Free Press.

7. Reports of Meetings, Conferences, Decisions, etc.—This group includes all reports of meetings, or conferences, of bodies of any sort, political or otherwise, reports of judicial or legislative hearings or decisions, or announcements of resolutions passed. Such as:

WASHINGTON, Jan. 15. Acquisition of the telegraph lines by the government and their operation as a part of the postal system is the latest idea of Postmaster General Hitchcock. Announcement was made today that a resolution to this effect will be offered to Congress at the present session. Wisconsin State Journal.

There is always one thing in these stories that gives them news value—the purpose or result of the conference, hearing, or announcement. This purpose or result, of course, must be played up. The one point that the reporter should remember is that a well-written lead begins with the result or purpose of the meeting or announcement rather than with the name of the meeting or the name of the body that makes the announcement. Never begin a story thus: "At a meeting of the Press Club held in the Auditorium last night it was resolved that——" Transpose the sentence and begin with a statement of what was resolved. In the following story the order is wrong:

The Supreme Court of the United States, through the opinion delivered by Justice Vandevanter, today declared constitutional the employers' liability law of 1908.

The import of the decision is buried; it should be written thus:

The employers' liability law of 1908 was today declared constitutional by the Supreme Court of the United States. Justice Vandevanter delivered the opinion of the court, made in four cases.

In these stories, as in all other news stories, the lead must begin with the fact or statement that gives the story news value. Burying this fact or statement behind two or three lines of explanation spoils the effectiveness of the lead. A student of journalism may gain very good practice in the writing of news stories by looking over the leads that appear in the daily papers and transposing those leads which bury their news behind explanations. The first line of type in a lead is like a shop's show window and it must not be used for the display of packing cases.

8. Stories on Other Printed Matter.—A large part of a newspaper's space, especially in smaller cities, is devoted to stories based on printed bulletins, announcements, city directories, legislative bills, and published reports of various kinds. Sometimes a news story is written upon a pamphlet that was issued for advertising purposes—because there is some news in it. In all of these stories the reporter must look through the pamphlet to find something of news value or something that has a significant relation to other news. Smaller papers often print stories on the new city directory; the increase or decrease in population is treated as news and a very interesting story may be written on a comparison of the names in the directory. In university towns the appearance of a new university catalog or bulletin of any sort is the occasion for a story which points out the new features or compares the new bulletin with a previous one. Reporters and correspondents in political centers, like state capitals, get out stories on committee and legislative reports and on new bills that are proposed or passed by the legislature. The writing of these stories is very much like the reporting of a speech, which will be discussed later. The newest or most interesting feature in the report or bill is played up in the lead as the feature of the story, followed by the source of the story, the printed bulletin upon which the story is based; thus:

A new plan for placing the control of all water power in the state in the hands of the legislature was proposed in the minority report of Senators J. B. Smith and L. C. Blake, of the special legislative committee on drainage, issued today.

These eight classes of news stories do not include all the news stories that a newspaper prints, but they are in a way typical of all the others that are not mentioned. It will be noted from these that all news stories, just like the fire story, are usually written in about the same way. Each one has a lead which begins with the feature of the story—i.e., the fact or incident in the story which gives it news value and makes it of interest—and concludes by answering the reader's questions, when, where, who, how, why, concerning the feature. Each story begins again after the lead, and in one or more paragraphs explains, describes, or narrates the incident in detail and in logical order. This body of the story which follows the lead, while following in general the logical order, is so written that its most interesting facts are near the beginning and its interest dwindles away toward the end. This is to enable the editor in making up his paper, to take away from the end of any story, as we have seen before, a paragraph or more without spoiling the story's continuity or depriving it of any of its essential facts. The form of the conventional fire story may be used as a model in the writing of any news story.

In writing the body of a story to explain, describe, or narrate the incident mentioned in the lead, every effort should be directed toward clearness. This is particularly true of stories which are in the main narrations of action. The number of facts that may be included must depend upon the length of the story; if all of the facts cannot be included without overburdening the story, cut out some of the details of lesser importance, but treat those that are included in a clear readable way. Short sentences are always much better in newspaper writing than long involved sentences. Pronouns should always be used in such a way that there can be no doubt in regard to their antecedents. If a relative clause or participial expression sounds awkward make a separate sentence of it. In other words, be simple, concise, and clear—that is better in a newspaper than much fine writing.



IX

FOLLOW-UP AND REWRITE STORIES

The terms "rewrite story" and "follow-up, or follow, story," are names which newspaper men apply to the rehashed or revised versions of other news stories. A large newspaper office employs one or more rewrite men who spend their entire time rewriting stories. To be sure, a part of their work consists of rewriting, or simply recasting, poorly written copy prepared by the reporters. But the major part of their work, the part that interests us, involves something more than that. It involves the rejuvenation of stories that have been printed in a previous edition or in another paper, with the purpose of bringing the news up to the present moment.

News ages very rapidly. What may be news for one edition is no longer news when another edition goes to press an hour later. A feature that may be worth playing up in a morning paper would not have the same news value in an evening paper of the same day. The news grows stale so quickly because new things are continually happening and new developments are continually changing the aspect of previous stories. If a story has been run through two or three editions and new developments have changed it, the story is turned over to a rewrite man for consequent alteration. A story in a morning paper is no longer news for an evening paper of the same date, but a clever rewrite man, with or without new developments added to the story, can recast it so that it will appear to contain more recent news than the original story. The story of an arrest in a morning paper begins with the particulars of the arrest; but when the evening paper's rewrite man has rearranged it for his paper it has become the story of the trial or the police court hearing which followed the arrest. Perhaps the evening paper sends a man to get the later developments in the case, but every rewrite man knows the steps that always follow an arrest and he can rewrite the original story without additional information. His account of the later developments is called either a rewrite or a follow-up story, depending upon the method employed. The same fundamental idea of rejuvenating the former story governs the preparation of both the rewrite and the follow-up story, but while the rewrite story contains no additional news, the follow-up presents later facts in addition to the old news.

1. The Rewrite Story.—The rewrite story is primarily a rehashing of a previous news story without additional facts. It attempts to give a new twist to old facts in order to bring them nearer to the present time. Without the aid of later facts the rewrite man can only select a new feature and revise the old facts. For example, suppose that a $100,000 grain elevator burns during the night. The fire would make a big story in a city of moderate size and the papers next morning would treat it at length. If no one were killed or injured the story would probably begin with a simple announcement of the fire in a lead of this kind:

Fire destroyed the grain elevator of the H. P. Jones Produce Company, First and Water streets, and $50,000 worth of wheat at 2 o'clock this morning. The total loss is estimated at $150,000.

Then the reporter would describe the fire at length, including all obtainable facts. By afternoon almost every one in the city has read the story—and yet the afternoon papers must print something about the big fire. If no new facts can be obtained the previous story must be rehashed and presented with a new feature that will make it appear to be a later story. It is useless to begin the evening story with a mere announcement of the fire, for that is no longer news, and the rewrite man must find a new beginning to attract the attention of his readers. Perhaps in looking over the morning story, he finds that the fire was the result of spontaneous combustion in the grain stored in the elevator. In the morning story this fact was rather insignificant in the face of the huge loss, and most readers passed over it hastily. The rewrite man, however, who has no later facts at his command, may seize it as a new feature. Instead of beginning his story with the fact of the fire, which is already known, he begins with the cause, which appears to be later news. His lead may be as follows:

Spontaneous combustion in the wheat bins of the H. P. Jones Produce Company's elevator, First and Water streets, started the fire which destroyed the entire structure with a loss of $150,000 this morning.

Or if the rewrite man is not so fortunate as to discover a new feature as good as this, he may have to resort to beginning with a picture of the present results of the fire—thus:

Smouldering ruins and a tangled mass of steel beams are all that remain of the H. P. Jones Produce Company's $100,000 grain elevator, First and Water streets, which was destroyed by fire this morning.

It will be noticed that, while these new rewrite leads begin with a new feature, each new lead contains all the facts presented in the previous lead and is told with an eye to the man who has not read the earlier account. After the lead the rewrite man retells the whole story for the benefit of readers who did not see the morning papers and rearranges the facts so that they appear new to those who read the previous stories. Facts which the other papers buried he unearths and displays; details which appear to be later developments he crowds to the beginning. The whole story is sorted and rewritten in a new order and with a new emphasis. The result is a rewrite story which appears to be later, although it contains no new facts at all. It is seldom, of course, that such a rewrite story is used for local news, for very rarely is it impossible for a later paper to discover new facts. But in the case of news from the outside world, from other cities, the simple method of rehashing old facts must often be resorted to. If the story is based upon a single dispatch announcing an earthquake in Hawaii or a shipwreck in mid-ocean, many rewrite stories must be printed on the same facts before another message brings later news and additional details. An example of this is the treatment of the first few stories of the wreck of the White Star liner Titanic. The story was a big one, but the first dispatches were very meager and many rehashings of these few facts had to be printed before later and more definite news could be obtained.

The simple rewriting of an old story ordinarily involves a condensation of the facts. If a morning paper printed two thousand words on the grain elevator fire above, an afternoon paper of the same day would hardly treat the story at such length. For the story is no longer big news. If a story has run through the first editions of a morning paper it would be cut down, as well as rehashed, in the later editions of the same paper. The story of the fire loses its initial burst of interest after the first printing, and only the essential facts and the facts that can be rejuvenated can be reprinted. The 2,000-word version in the morning paper may be worth only five hundred words or less four hours later.

2. The Follow-up Story.—If new facts are added to a story between editions the new version is no longer a simple rewrite story. It becomes a follow-up story, for it follows up the subsequent developments in the previous story and corresponds to the second or succeeding installments of a serial novel in which each installment begins with a synopsis of previous chapters. For example, if, in the grain elevator fire story, the body of a watchman were found in the ruins after the morning papers have gone to press, the story would immediately have a different news value for the evening papers. The story of the big fire is old, but the discovery of the body is new. Hence the rewrite man would begin with the later development—perhaps thus:

The body of a watchman was found this afternoon in the ruins of the H. P. Jones Produce elevator, which burned to the ground this morning with a loss of $150,000.

The new story, while retelling the principal facts in the previous account, would give prominence to the latest news, the discovery of the body. As an example from a newspaper, let us take the follow-up of a murder mystery. The first stories on this murder simply said that a grocer had been found dead in the cellar of his store and murder had been suggested. The follow-up on the next day (printed here) deals with a new development—has a new feature—and carries the story one step further in the attempt to unravel the mystery:

Developments yesterday in the story of the killing of James White, the Park street grocer, tended to support the contention of Coroner Donalds and the police that White was not murdered, but died by his own hand.

3. Analysis.—So far we have treated the rewrite story and the follow-up story separately, but for the purposes of analysis and study they may be treated together, because the same fundamental idea governs both. Dissection of the follow-up story will also show us what the rewrite story is made of.

From the above clippings it will be seen that the lead of the follow-up story is very much like that of any news story. The lead has its feature in the first line and answers the reader's questions concerning that feature. It is simply a new story written on an old subject which has been given a new feature to make it appear new. Furthermore, it will be noticed that the lead of the follow-up story is complete in itself, without the original story that preceded it. Although the whole idea of the follow story is based on the supposition that all readers have read every edition of the paper and are therefore acquainted with the original story, yet for the benefit of those readers who have not read the previous story, the follow-up must be complete and clear in itself. New facts are introduced into the follow story, but its lead tells the main facts of the original story so that no reader will be at loss to understand what it is all about—in other words, it gives a synopsis of previous chapters. In many follow-up stories the new developments are supplemented by an entire retelling of the original story. This is especially true when one paper is rewriting a story which broke too late for its preceding edition and was covered by a rival paper. At any rate, every follow-up story, like every other news story, must be so constructed as to stand by itself without previous explanation.

Of the 142 bodies of victims of the Triangle Waist Company's fire on Saturday, that had been taken to the morgue up to noon yesterday when it was decided that all the dead had been recovered, all but 45 had been identified today.

This is a follow-up of a story two days before. Every reader of the paper probably knew everything that had been printed previously about the fire, and yet this lead very carefully recalls the fire to the reader's mind. Later in the story the principal facts of the original story are retold as if they were new and unknown.

It is interesting to see what in any given newspaper story can be followed up for a later story. The would-be reporter may get good practice in writing follow-up stories from the mere attempt to study out the next step in any given new story. With this next step as his feature he may try to write a follow-up story without additional information, and then compare it with other follow-up stories. For every news story contains within it clues to what may be expected to follow.

When any serious fire occurs certain additional facts may always be expected to follow. The finding of more dead, the unravelling of a mysterious origin, the re-statement of the loss, and the present condition of the injured are some of the possibilities that a rewrite man considers when he tries to prepare a follow-up story on a fire. The Washington Place fire in New York on March 25, 1911, furnished admirable material for the study of the rewriting of fire stories. The fire occurred on Saturday afternoon too late for anything but the Sunday editions. The original story as it appeared in the Sunday papers and the Monday issues, of papers which had no Sunday editions, began like this:

One hundred and forty-one persons are dead as a result of a fire which on Saturday afternoon swept the three upper floors of the factory loft building at the northwest corner of Washington place and Greene street. More than three-quarters of this number are women and girls, who were employed in the Triangle Shirt Waist factory, where the fire originated. Boston Transcript, Monday.

The Monday stories on the fire followed up various phases as shown in the following. Each one while indicating that the story was a follow-up retold the principal incidents in the fire.

The death list in the Washington place and Greene street fire was swelled today to 145, a majority of the victims being young girls. Monday morning second story.

At dawn today it was estimated that 25,000 persons had visited the temporary morgue on the covered pier at the foot of East Twenty-sixth street, set aside to receive the bodies of those who perished in the Washington place fire on Saturday afternoon. Monday morning second story.

The horror of the fire in the ten-story loft building at Washington place and Greene street late Saturday afternoon, with its heavy toll of human lives, grows blacker each succeeding hour. Monday afternoon.

Of the 142 bodies in the morgue as a result of the Triangle Shirt Waist factory fire, all but fifty had been identified this morning. Monday afternoon.

On Tuesday other lines opened up for the rewrite man:

Sifting down the great mass of testimony at their disposal, city and county officials hoped today to draw closer to the source of responsibility for Saturday's factory fire horror in which 142 persons lost their lives. Investigations started yesterday. Tuesday afternoon.

With all but twenty-eight of the victims of the Triangle Shirt Waist factory horror identified, District Attorney Whitman continues steadily compiling evidence. Funerals for scores of victims are being held today, while the relief fund, etc. Tuesday afternoon.

Borough President McAneny of Manhattan, the district attorney's staff, the fire marshal, the coroner and the state labor department are bending every energy toward fixing the blame for the loss of the 142 lives in the, etc. Tuesday afternoon.

Union labor, horrified by the full realization that the waste of human life in the Triangle Waist factory fire might have been saved had existing laws been enforced, today arranged for a monster demonstration of protest, etc. Tuesday afternoon.

And so the stories ran for many days until newspaper readers had lost all interest in the fire. Most of the stories were simply retellings of the original story with a new bit of information in the lead. People were ravenous for more details about the fire and the follow stories supplied them until they were satisfied. Rarely is a fire worth so many retellings.

A serious accident is often followed up in one or more editions. If many people are killed or injured, the revised list of dead or the present condition of the injured always furnishes material for a follow-up. Sometimes the fixing of the blame, as in a railroad accident, or other resulting features are used as the basis of the rewriting.

In the case of a robbery the commonest material for a follow-up story is the resulting pursuit or capture. Very often a final report of the loss, the present condition of a robbed bank or public institution, or perhaps the regaining of the booty, makes a feature for a new story. But usually the follow-up is concerned with the pursuit, capture, or trial. This is especially true if the original story has been told by an earlier paper and another later paper wishes to print a more up-to-date story on the robbery, such as:

MINOCQUA, Wis., Oct. 22. It now begins to look as if the bandits who robbed the State Bank of Minocqua early Tuesday morning would make their escape with the booty. (This is followed by a re-telling of the entire story of the robbery and an account of the pursuit.)

The most usual follow-up of a murder story is interested in the pursuit, capture, or trial of the perpetrator of the deed. For example:

Following the discovery of the body of Pietro Barilla, an Italian, of Woodhaven, Long Island, who was stabbed to death by four men, presumably Black Hand members, in Lincoln Road, near Flatbush, early yesterday morning, the police arrested three men yesterday.

Very often the present condition of the victim of an attempted murder calls for a new story. The stories following the attempted murder of Mayor Gaynor of New York are good examples of the latter. If a mystery surrounds the crime a possible solution is grounds for a new story. The stories which might follow the unraveling of the mystery surrounding the fictitious death of the grocer, mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, would be second-day murder stories. The original story, let us say, was something like this: