When you absolutely, positively need to break an important story…
I spent part of the summer critiquing student news media outlets and judging student media contests, something that often helps me see what is going on in the universe of universities. Some things never change (parking problems, dorm food debacles, roommate dysfunction) while other things definitely show me the nuance and distinctiveness among various schools.
A category that kept showing up on my plate was “breaking news,” mainly because that category tended to have a lot of entries, thus other volunteers avoided it like the plague, and I spent my formative journalism years running after anything that caught fire, got shot or otherwise went to hell in a speedboat.
As strange as it seemed to me, there wasn’t a lot of consistency in terms of what qualified as “breaking news” or what made a breaking-news story worthy of submission. Everything from county fairs to shootings ended up here, with lengths ranging from “undersized haiku” to “plus-sized Iliad.” Sufficient to say, all of this made it difficult to pick winners, particularly when trying to compare them.
With all that in mind, here are some things that came to mind as I was reading through some of the offerings:
AN EVENT ISN’T (NORMALLY) BREAKING NEWS: The concept behind “breaking” news really started with radio broadcasting in the 1930s. It was predicated on the idea was that something so important and unexpected had happened, it merited breaking into whatever was currently on air to alert the public about that important thing. With that in mind, if you’re going to call something breaking, you need to showcase two things:
- How something is exceptionally important, exceeding the importance of the regular stuff you were covering.
- How it was unexpected, either in terms of no one foreseeing it happening or something that was expected to happen a certain way going off the rails.
In most cases, this means event stories don’t really meet those primary requirements. For example, a group of people planning an annual “walk a mile in her shoes” march to support sexual-assault awareness isn’t a breaking news piece unless something unexpected happens. If it goes off the way it should, it’s an event and that’s about it.
That’s not to say anything that doesn’t involve a shooting or a fire can’t be a breaking news story. An unplanned walkout of school students to protest how the district is banning books could be a breaking news event, as could a planned walkout that started peacefully enough before the kids started throwing flaming books at cars in the faculty parking lot.
If everyone knows this is happening for weeks in advance, so much so the administration sanctions it and the PTA brings bottled water and snacks, you’re not “breaking” much of anything.
GRAB ME QUICK, HOLD ME TIGHT: In a lot of contest entries I reviewed, I felt that a lot of people were abiding by the “longer is better” philosophy when it came to what made the cut. I get that this makes a lot of sense in feature categories, profile categories and in-depth/investigative categories, as deeper pieces with more nuance and description need the room to breathe. (To be fair, even some of those could use a little pruning.)
What really made the difference with the breaking stories, however, was how quickly the lead grabbed me and how tightly written the rest of the piece was. I knew something had made the first cut and probably the final pile if I read a lead and instinctively blurted out, “Oh my God!”
When I found myself scrolling to the end of the story and not skipping a word before I hit the requisite ads for “5 tricks to relieve back pain your doctor won’t tell you” and “You’ll never guess what your favorite teen idol got busted for now!” I knew it was a tight, strong read.
If you’re truly “breaking” the news, you need to tell people right away what happened and why they care. If you want to think about it in relation to the old broadcast standard, you’re essentially saying, “Here is something so important, we need to stop what you like enough to be currently watching/hearing and point you to this new thing.” To that end, when you aren’t producing content like that, you need to return people to their previously scheduled programming.
(SIDE NOTE: The one real thing we tend to “break into” programming for these days is weather, which makes a lot of sense, as an impending tornado or damaging storm is something people NEED to know about NOW, so they can go to safety. However, the local weather folks seem like they start channeling Norma Desmond from “Sunset Boulevard” the minute they get on the air.
It takes everything I have not to start laughing when they cut into a Brewers game and spend the next 30 minutes repeating 30 seconds worth of information, only stopping to say, “We KNOW we’re interrupting the Brewers game, but you need to listen to us NOW!” Meanwhile, my dad is practically chewing on the remote control as these weather barons are waiting for Mr. DeMille to give them a close up.)
Breaking news doesn’t have to be long, but it does have to pound the heck out of the content in a non-stop fashion. Even if in an early unfolding report you have to add information based on observation or other “filler” elements, once you get to a true breaking situation, trim out any random garbage that doesn’t keep a grip on the readers’ eyeballs and you’ll have a winner.
TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW AND WHAT YOU DON’T: The best stories answer all the questions readers have in a clear and complete fashion. The next time that happens in a breaking news event will be the first time it ever happened.
That’s not a dig on reporters or media outlets, as it’s the nature of the beast: When something unexpected happens, everyone is trying to figure things out at the same time, so there will naturally be a dearth of information and a ton of holes in stories.
The best breaking news tells the audience everything the reporter knows about the situation, but it also tells the audience what they DON’T know as well. That can feel counterintuitive sometimes, because it’s like answering questions on a final exam with, “You got me! Good one! I have no idea.”
However, I know that when I was reading stories, I had questions that kept popping up in my head. Maybe it was the journalist in me, but sometimes I was thinking, “Did they try to call (SOURCE X)?” or “Was (DOCUMENT Y) available?” Other times, I saw holes in stories like, “Did the police catch the robber?” or “When can people move back in now that the flooding is receding?”
I’m sure a few folks forgot to ask those questions or gather those facts, but I bet even more of the journalists asked about the stuff I had wondered about, but nobody had an answer, or a source refused to comment.
Putting in those bits of information can help the readers see what you did to provide them with the most complete story. That not only helps fill some holes they see, but it also gives them more confidence in the rest of the story, as it becomes clear that you did the job as well as the job could be done.