It’s all about tone, bro.
There’s a lot of quick advice one could give young journalists. Follow smart people on Twitter. Blog often and for whoever will let you. Read as much as you can by as many different people in as many different publications as is humanly possible. And for god’s sake learn some code — that HTML you taught yourself in high school won’t cut it anymore.
But what do I know? I’m a junior in college and, while I do a bunch of writing for a several publications, I haven’t quite cracked the code on getting paid any substantial amount for any of it. I’m a greenhorn, and I really have very little right to comment on what skills make an effective journalist on account of, well, my not yet being an effective journalist. What I can talk about with some semblance of authority is what interests me. I spend an uncomfortable amount of time reading things, mostly on the internet. And what I respond to is tone.
It’s an art, figuring out how you’re supposed to be writing. It depends on the publication, the story, the medium — but it can make all the difference in the world. If you’re writing a policy piece for A1 of the Wall Street Journal, you’re probably going to want to be on your best behavior. But if you’re writing a story about a Jesus statue getting struck by lightening, like Washington Post Style studs Dan Zak and Monica Hesse did, you can — and should — have a funky lede:
It appears God has sacrificed his only son. Again.
A bolt struck a 62-foot-tall statue of Jesus Christ on Monday outside a church in Monroe, Ohio, and the statue erupted in flames. All that remains is a charred steel skeleton, its spindly arms stretched toward heaven, a gesture that once earned it the nickname “Touchdown Jesus.”
That’s tone. Yeah, that particular one may have pissed some people off, but you get the idea. Don’t be afraid to break a few conventions; tell your readers the story however is best to do it. If it’s with a more laid-back style to bring some levity to an otherwise tiresome topic, great. If it’s a more sombre timbre for a heavier piece, you’ve got to know that too. But nothing has to just be the 15-inch inverted pyramid. Give people something new! (But don’t get overly fancy unless you have a reason to — when the reporter randomly shows up in a story for no reason, for example, it sounds stupid.)
You also have a lot more leeway if you’re blogging and can probably talk more colloquially, but I didn’t need to tell you that. And Twitter — oh my goodness.
I love that thing, and I love following reporters on it. Great stuff, probably the biggest reason I use the site. They’re not pumping their own articles unless they’re really excited about them, which is fine by me. They’re mostly passing on articles by others that they really like, in addition to commenting on current events and offering up insights on issues they are uniquely qualified to be insightful about.
The good tweeters aggregate well. The great ones become your friend.
This might just be a reflection of my need to get out more and have some human interaction, but I love when journalists act like real people and let me see it. Twitter is personal — you’re showing up in the feed of someone who followed you, specifically you. That’s a gesture. Don’t posture. Be chill, they know you’re smart. That’s why they’re following you.
In summary, know when to be serious, but don’t take yourself too seriously. People will believe you even if you reveal yourself to have a personality.
Rich Abdill is a junior journalism major at the University of Maryland. You can check out his site at www.rabdill.com and, if you feel like it you can also follow him on Twitter.
