Matt Stroud and Going Long

Anyone who laments the death of long form journalism these days should take a look at “Wasteland” by Matt Stroud. The long form piece on the largely forgotten and abandoned nuclear waste site in Nevada for The Verge adds up to almost 10,000 words (and that’s not counting all the videos and photos that accompany the article). The story opens with Stroud’s visit to an eerily abandoned town in Nevada at the base of Yucca Mountain. Stroud is there to investigate what became of the nation’s first planned nuclear waste depository. The story then traces over 60 years of history starting from when he first commercial nuclear reactor opened in the United States and the issue of highly toxic nuclear waste first became part of the public discussion. The article reveals a disconcerting truth – tens and thousands of tons of radioactive waste is held in limbo while politicians and scientists debate about what to do with it.

Despite its length the comments on his article are quite laudatory. One commenter wrote: “…You would never find such a beautiful, incredibly fascinating article on any other site. This is the stuff I have been looking for. I would totally subscribe to a Verge Magazine if it contained this kind of detailed content.”

We asked him about the reporting process, organizing, and his favorite environmental journalism.

Note: I’ve underlined what I found to be the most interesting parts of this interview if you’re in a hurry but I strongly recommend that you read it all the way through when you get the chance.

[Estimated reading time: 9 minutes]

image used with permission from lawatha

 

What sparked the piece?

I’ve been fascinated by the idea of Yucca Mountain since I was a kid. The Verge was really just getting started at the beginning of 2012, and I knew its editors were looking to expand their reporting further into both science and “longform.” So I took the release of the Blue Ribbon Commission report in January 2012 as a way into a story I’d been wanting to tell for a long time. The BRC report had been cursorily covered in various news outlets, but I knew that it was worth a deeper exploration. It was, more or less, a history of the country’s debate over nuclear power with questions about how to move forward. Those questions were complicated by an addendum that the move forward could not, for dodgy political reasons, include Yucca as a waste repository. So I pitched it as all these things — a history of a science, a chance to look forward, a glance at the questionable politics surrounding nuclear power. And the editors went for it.

How many reporting trips did you take?

I took two: One to Las Vegas to tour the test site and talk with a bunch of people advocating on both sides of the Yucca Mountain debate. The second one was to Carlsbad with a videographer, the great Jordan Oplinger, to tour the Waste Isolation Pilot Plant underground repository there.

What details/info did you make sure to get on those reporting trips?

My goal was to get way too much information on everything related to nuclear waste that I could possibly ever want to know. And, in Vegas — beyond what I wanted to get on the test site tour — I wanted to get an idea of how far the city was from the proposed repository — and what sat in between the two. It’s easy to look at Google Maps and say, “oh, a lot of sand and rocks and desert separate the two.” But you really can’t get an appreciation for what that means until you make that 100 mile drive from the Strip out into the desert. You go out past prisons and trailer parks and random military airports. And then — after driving seemingly forever in the hot sun — you find this weird brothel out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and barren mountains in every direction. And outside the brothel — which had a minimart and saloon and restaurant attached to it — there was this billboard with an alien on it advertising that it was the last stop before Yucca Mountain, as if Yucca Mountain was a tourist destination rather than this idea of a eternal repository of deadly waste. That alone was worth the trip to Vegas.

(And I’m saddened to learn now that this brothel is closed. RIP Nevada Joe’s.)

How long did the piece take you to research? How long did it take you to write?

Well, I pitched it in January 2012, when the BRC report was released. It was accepted sometime in February. So, in all, it took about six months to put together. But I was a freelancer at the time, working on other projects, so it’s not like this was my only focus. I really didn’t sit down and start writing it until late April. I remember I turned in a draft around mid May. Editors Jesse Hicks and Joseph L. Flatley were going back and forth with me while my first daughter was being born, on May 18, 2012. (Literally, I was sitting in the lawn of Magee Women’s Hospital in Pittsburgh, talking over edits on the phone.) We finished the edits a week or so later, as I recall. The rest was working with Jordan to get the video right, which actually required a couple more interviews that we set up over Skype.

Where did you go for research material? 

Libraries and the web. Visited a few court houses. Went to Vegas and Carlsbad.

How did you organize your research and how did you decide what to keep and what not to? 

I eventually — way after I started reading books on the topic and, if I remember correctly, after I traveled to Vegas — decided on a pretty basic structure for the story. From there, I only kept material that served the structure.

What’s an example of something that got left out? 

The Waste Isolation Pilot Plant in New Mexico has its own very complicated political history — most of which is outlined in Nuclear Reactions, a very good book by former Congressional Quarterly journalist Chuck McCutcheon. I wanted to include a lot of that stuff, but it didn’t really fit the story so it got axed.

What surprised you in the course of reporting/writing this piece? 

You really can’t legally get anywhere near the actual hole in the ground that was supposed to be the Yucca Mountain waste repository, even though it’s just an empty cavern holding no waste whatsoever. And I was too chickenshit to scale the fence that blocks the road leading to it — mostly because a bunch of people had told me there would be helicopters swarming me if I did. But I later learned that the closest government employee technically guarding that fence is like 25 miles away and probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I had scaled the fence. Anyway, since I didn’t scale it, I ended up spending quite a bit of time out in the neighboring, sparse residential areas.
Peripherally, I suppose what surprised me was the existence of those communities out there. There were people living very comfortable-seeming lives out in this distant, hot, moon-like terrain. And though they were weirdly detached from all the chintzy gaudiness of Las Vegas, there they were, in their own spaced-out desert community, together. I pointed it out in the story, but these were the people — along with those in the city closest to Yucca, Pahrump — who lobbied hardest to get Yucca completed. This seemed meaningful to me — and surprising: the people who would be most affected by the catastrophic results of a Yucca failure were the people lobbying hardest to have it built.

What was the most difficult thing about reporting/writing this piece?

I felt I had a lot of responsibility to the story itself and all the people who have devoted their entire professional (and in some cases personal) lives to it. And it’s such a complicated issue — both in terms of the science behind nuclear power and the storage of nuclear waste, and the politics surrounding both of those things — that trying to give it justice as an outsider… well, it was difficult. I felt that if the story was wrong, or if it cast anyone incorrectly or unfairly, that I would have paid a tremendous disservice to all the things and people I had gone out there to explore. I mean, even looking at the story now, with some of the info boxes removed and the code a little messed up, makes me very uncomfortable.

If you were to do the story differently the second time around – how would you do it differently?

I’d have honed the thing, probably focused a lot more on the Blue Ribbon Commission itself. And I would’ve gotten Harry Reid to talk with me.

What do you think is missing in environmental journalism today?

I think a lot of really good journalism is done on energy topics by journalists with newspapers and outlets such as the Associated Press and various NPR affiliates. But there aren’t a ton of people like Elizabeth Kolbert — or outlets like the New Yorker — that take in all of that journalism and make broader sense out of it. I don’t know how Media as a whole goes about finding and supporting more Elizabeth Kolberts, but we should.

What’s something you’re experimenting with in your pieces currently?

If I experiment with anything, it’s subjects that I’m not altogether comfortable with. This cover piece in this month’s Harper’s is something I could never do — I don’t have the level of knowledge about math and numbers that this journalist has — but I’m trying to delve into topics that require me to learn things I don’t already feel comfortable with. Wasteland was an example of that type of experimentation, actually; I mostly write about crime and courts.

Best piece of environmental journalism you’ve read and why.

Since I mentioned Elizabeth Kolbert: this piece on Amory Lovins was not some feat of investigative journalism or even a particular “get” by Kolbert. But I remember reading it on the Caltrain, commuting from San Jose to San Francisco, and being floored by how simple Lovins made an environmentally conscious lifestyle seem. I read it again every once in a while, and I reference this paragraph occasionally in conversation to this day:

A lot of Lovins’s ideas sound radical and futuristic — ultra-light cars made of carbon fibres, vehicles that generate electricity when they’re not on the road, an economy powered by hydrogen. At the same time, he is a passionate advocate of what he calls ‘good, old-fashioned Victorian engineering,’ and believes that a great many problems can be solved using high-school physics. (Lovins can spend hours describing the energy savings that follow from steps as simple as increasing the diameter of pipes.) This combination of high- and low-tech enthusiasms makes his outlook difficult to categorize. Once, when I casually used the phrase ‘thinking outside the box,’ Lovins interrupted me. ‘There is no box,’ he said.

That last line — “there is no box” — is empowering in a way that no bullshit “Go Green!” campaign could ever be. And Kolbert elicits that sense of empowerment so subtly and meaningfully throughout the profile, I can’t remember being more affected by any other piece of environmental journalism.

The best recent piece of environmental journalism I can remember reading is this one — Ring of Fire by Katie Drummond at The Verge. I’m a bit biased on this — I was with The Verge when this story came out, it’s another piece that Joe Flatley edited, and Katie will be my boss when I transition into a new role at Bloomberg next month. But that story, Ring of Fire, takes a specific environmental problem, puts it into a tangible perspective with visible victims, and shows the reader how the problem arose and how it might be fixed. Great piece of writing and investigation. And the video is incredible, too.

Stroud is now a writer for the Bloomberg – read his latest here.

Note: Matt was the very first writer I contacted for this blog and I will forever be indebted to him for his patience as we went back and forth and I tried to hone the exact questions I wanted to ask. Thanks Matt!


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Kari Lydersen and the Power of Narrative

In February, I interviewed Kat Friedrich who had recently taken to Twitter to extol the benefits of using storytelling techniques in the notoriously dry subject of energy reporting. Friedrich had mentioned that she had been inspired by her editor at Midwest Energy News – Kari Lydersen.

Naturally, I checked out Lydersen’s work and was immediately hooked. The former Ted Scripps Environmental Journalism fellow is indeed a master of narrative story telling – her Discover Magazine story on the Ebola outbreak titled “The Ebola Explosion” was named Top Science Story of 2014 and her piece for In These Times titled “Remembering the Deadly Donora Smog” captivated from beginning to end. Lydersen’s impeccable attention to detail and her predilection for reaching far back in history make her stories both delightful and highly informative to read.

Note: I’ve underlined what I found to be the most interesting parts of this interview if you’re in a hurry but I strongly recommend that you read it all the way through when you get the chance.

[Estimated reading time: 6 minutes]

The beginning of your “Ebola Explosion” piece starts with an anecdote about how the ebola epidemic began. How did you get all those details in order to write the anecdote?

That was sort of an easy one because there was already so much great reporting out there and I was lucky to get some really long interviews with scientists that were there. It’s a stereotype that scientists stick really close to their technical research but I was fortunate that the ones I talked to were willing to share their stories. I probably read a hundred articles or something ten or more academic papers. You don’t necessarily have to do that much research to be able to tell the story yourself. I also did a bit of easy investigative work: like I would use Google earth to get a better feel of the places I haven’t been, you look up the weather…it’s all so easy now with the Internet. That’s something I learned from working with a story on climate change with another reporter…he was really good at looking up those little details that weren’t crucial to the story but really added something extra to the story.

I noticed that you love to give historical context to all your stories – do you do that consciously?

I definitely do that consciously. Sometimes I use a current news angle as an excuse to tell a piece of history. Sometimes the history is more interesting to me than current. We’re so ignorant of the history and you can learn so much from it. I live in Chicago – and I’m amazed by how much I don’t know.

For an energy story, for example, all it takes is a couple of graphs and you can get the history of a neighborhood or an industry.

Speaking of energy, energy reporting, especially for trade publications, can be especially dry. Is there a freedom to do narrative journalism in energy reporting and if so, how and why?

When possible it’s really great to get story telling into an energy story. After all, human beings are going to read the story. Sometimes it needs to be in moderation. If there’s certain information that needs to be conveyed, that’s most important. People might not want to wade through a story to get to that bit of information. There are so many types of energy stories that lend themselves really well to storytelling: those are the stories that are about some sort of controversy – oil refineries, pollution, impacts on the environment…the David versus Goliath type of energy story. Then there are other articles more about policy or technology which don’t lend themselves as well to storytelling and you might just leave it out. But even technology pieces can be more accessible if you tell the story of the developers or the start up company that started it. Policy and politics pieces also often have colorful characters and might make the story more accessible to someone might otherwise not pick up your article. But again, it all depends on the article and the outlet.

What if you don’t have the space for a full-blown narrative? How do you employ storytelling techniques or add a little bit of color to your piece?

Narrative could be virtually impossible to do a few short lines so you can add in a few fun quotes or a colorful detail about one of the people involved as a little bit of reward for the reader.

How do you get those details when you’re conducting your interviews?

It depends on the person – if it’s a policy expert or a lawyer I don’t bother – they’re not characters in the story. If it’s the scientist or developer or a regular person I would ask the more personal questions like “When did you first get involved with this?”, “How or why did this become a focus for you?”, or “Where do you see this going?”. I might also ask them where they grew up or what motivates them.

I think some people are a lot better with that than me at getting people to loosen up or joking around with them. The main thing I would do is kind of make clear or exaggerate the extent to which I’m a layman and I need them to explain in layman’s terms and that helps a lot. That helps me get what I need. I repeat to them in my oversimplified terms of how I see their work and ask them whether it’s accurate or not.

So it’s a lot of putting your ego aside and playing dumb. 

Exactly.

A lot of reporters I talk to say that they “know” when something is going to be a good story. What constitutes a good story to you?

Compelling characters, controversy, and a rich history. Sometimes it’s just that wow factor – like with biology…biology never ceases to amaze me.

How do you structure your narrative based stories?

I usually do fall back to chronological order. When I was at the Chicago Reader the editors there drilled in to me how valuable it is to be clear in your chronology how letting it unfold is usually the best way to go for news writing.

What’s a rookie mistake you made when you were starting out?

Jumping around a lot. That’s where I’ve learned to be pretty tied to chronological narrative. Sometimes jumping around can work if you’re a great writer but it can also be a mass that confuses the reader.

What advice do you have for energy reporters who want to start adding some storytelling elements to their reporting?

Firstly, it would depend on the piece I wouldn’t advise people to do that all the time. I would encourage them to go back to the beginning and ask yourself when did this start? What was the landscape figuratively or literally? Where did the people who are now involved come from? Those are the questions that can set you up for a finding a good narrative and telling it.

What would you like to see more of in environmental reporting?

There’s a lot of great environmental reporting out there…I personally really like the stories that include both the science and the ongoing battle and policy debate. Like if you’re writing on what’s happening with tar sands…combine the social context with the technology. There are a lot of stories that are just one or the other. But you combine different facets of the issue you can get a more unbiased, richer, and fuller picture.

For more on Kari Lydersen, visit http://www.karilydersen.com 


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Kat Friedrich and Storytelling in Energy Reporting

On February 11, energy reporter Kat Friedrich took to Twitter to declare:

Intrigued, I contacted Kat and she told me that she had recently started working with Kari Lydersen as her editor for stories at Midwest Energy News and Kari had made her a recent convert to storytelling in environmental stories – even if they’re on notoriously dry subjects like energy. (For my follow up interview with Kari, click here.)

Here is an excerpt of my conversation with Kat:

[Estimated Reading Time: 3 minutes]

How do you decide which story to tell when writing a piece?

It is partly an artistic process of listening for the story line to emerge, but it is also a conscious process of framing the story. Newsgathering is like putting together a collage. But the framing aspect of choosing a story can be very political and often reflects the social views of the reporter, the news publication, and the interviewees. Academics spend years analyzing how news is framed. That’s what I did for my graduate thesis.

What are some examples of storytelling journalism that you’ve worked on in the past and what the biggest challenges/hurdles were?

I try to use storytelling techniques in almost all of the energy news I produce now. These are usually hard news stories, not opinion pieces or narrative journalism. I do this because energy research tends to be heavy on text and analysis but light on metaphors, visual analogies, and human interest. Using quotes really helps to make sources and stories personable and approachable. Most people I meet find engineers intimidating. As a former engineer, I see this communication gap all the time, and I think journalism can help bridge this divide. Most engineers I interview say very quotable things.

Why is energy reporting in specific in need of storytelling?

Energy and climate are two beats that are both crucial to the future well-being of human beings and the planet we inhabit.

Reporters working on both of these beats face massive challenges in transforming the technical, abstract data science organizations produce into stories that are clear, concise and compelling.

Our job is generally not to motivate specific actions, but to tell the stories that need to be told.

In the energy beat, the information writers receive is often generated by companies and by researchers. Press releases from companies are often out of sync with the ideas that may resonate with our audiences. And research papers tend to bury the most compelling facts. They sometimes also lack practical relevance because they favor abstract concepts over concrete application.

Sometimes people argue that narrative journalism unfairly “tugs at the heartstrings” and reveals the reporter’s biases. How do you make sure that storytelling and narrative journalism remains as unbiased as possible?

To minimize bias, we can explore talking with stakeholders whom we might not otherwise interview. We can provide counterpoints to show that there are differences of opinion in the field. We can write balanced stories.

But even when we try to be highly data-focused, that does not mean we are neutral. Even our choices of subject matter indicate that we are not giving equal coverage to every topic. And anyone with professional experience in a field will have a perspective that informs his or her writing.

Who does storytelling based energy reporting well?

Elisa Wood, with whom I collaborate, introduces human interest into her stories often. Julia Pyper, at Greentech Media, uses humor on Twitter and makes her stories personal by interviewing people from local communities. At Grist, David Roberts uses entertaining graphics and jokes to lighten up his reporting. Breaking Energy is publishing a series of quote-focused articles. I have also seen some good energy-related storytelling in Christian Science Monitor.

You can find out more about Kat and her work at www.katfriedrich.com. For the follow up interview with Kari Lydersen, click here


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Karen Houppert and the Dead Bird Society

For our very first blog post we had the honor of speaking to Karen Houppert, author of three books and a Baltimore based freelance writer. Houppert’s piece for the Washington Post in 2014 called the Dead Bird Society,” highlights a group of activists in the D.C. area who are fighting to save the 500 million to 1 billion birds are killed annually nationwide because of collisions with buildings, communication towers, power lines and other man-made objects. Her piece, which is filled with wacky characters and poetic phrases, makes a little known but important environmental issue extremely reader friendly and accessible. Take a look at the piece here, then come back to read about how she pulled it off.

Note: I’ve underlined some of Houppert’s most interesting points if you’re in a hurry but I strongly recommend that you read the interview in full.

[Estimated Reading Time: 8 minutes]

karenbc

You’re not an environmental reporter per say – how did you stumble upon this story and why the Washington Post magazine?

Haha. Yes, I’m not an environmental reporter or any kind of specialist or beat reporter. As a feature writer, I admit that I’m a bit of a dilettante. I often find myself swooping into some insular world I know nothing about—Alzheimer’s research, restorative justice, the sanitary protection industry, etc.—and immerse myself in the jargon, processes and pressure points until I can make sense of it all.

It’s actually quite fun. Sometimes I think the very fact that I’m such an outsider makes me a better reporter because I can still hang onto that sense of disorientation I feel when I first step into the sub-culture I’m reporting on. I can use that to make sure I’ve clarified things for general readers. You know, it’s like traveling; you notice every detail because the landscape is so unfamiliar.

That said, I am a generalist who is drawn to her opposite. I like obsessive people. Maybe because I bounce around so much in my own interests, I’m very drawn to writing about people who are deeply passionate and committed to a single, compelling subject. That is mysterious and interesting to me. What moves them?

Lindsay Jacks is such a character – did you always know that the story was going to revolve around her? How many times did you visit/interview her?

Actually, my original story was going to focus on Lynne Parks, who now plays more of a supporting role in the feature. I stumbled on the story idea while attending a gallery opening at a local college. Lynne Parks was part of a group show and as the artists went around the room giving brief talks about their works, I found Lynne’s story fascinating. I knew immediately that it would be a good story.

I decided to pitch it to the Washington Post Magazine because it was a local story—which the editors there are always looking for—and because it was clearly the kind of story that called for beautiful visuals, you know, lovely, large photos printed on nicer paper-stock than newsprint.

Also, I like writing longer articles and the venues for a 3000-word piece are getting scarce. Even at the Washington Post Magazine, the features have shrunk. The first article I wrote for the magazine about eight years ago was 7500 words. Today, even their cover stories don’t exceed 3000 words.

As for how many times I hung out with Lindsay Jacks, I’d say five or six times over the course of as many months. (Of course, I wasn’t working exclusively on this story the whole time.) But, I walked around with her and Parks at 5 a.m. for a few hours, I drove to DC with Jacks and spent hours with her in the Smithsonian, I spent a few hours watching them catalogue the birds at the end of the season, I had separate sit-down interviews with Jacks and Parks, etc.

But to me, that’s the fun part of being a journalist. I love the reporting part; it’s having to sit down to write afterwards that’s a drag.

The opening anecdote is just perfect – it really captures the character in the best way possible – did it take you a while to decide how to open the story?

Honestly, I can’t exactly remember but I think that in an earlier draft I opened the story with a more detailed scene of Parks and Jacks at 5 a.m. walking around Baltimore’s Harbor collecting dead birds and plopping them in their purses. I was actually hoping they’d find a live one—and then I could follow the little thing as it was rushed to another volunteer and carted to the vet who gave it a steroid and revived and released it. But, of course, stories don’t always unfold the way you think they will.

I believe we switched the lede to the Smithsonian moment in part to make it more local—i.e. inside the Beltway—for the Washington Post readers.

I’m always finding these great Baltimore stories because I live here—and it is a quirky, weird, fascinating place full of terrific, untold stories–but my editors at the Post try to steer me into the District…you know, less The Wire, more House of Cards.

How long did the piece take to write and report?

I worked on it—not steadily, of course—for six months because it had to span the migration season and I wanted to be there for the carcass drop-off at the Smithsonian.

I usually work several stories at a time for a long time because reporting over a stretch of months helps me get those “telling moments.”

 What was the most difficult part of the process?

For me, the most difficult part of the process is trimming the story down after I’ve written it. I guess because I over-report, I also tend to write long. There are so many great moments, scenes, dialogue that I want to include—and I am so personally fascinated by my subjects as spend more and more time with them—that I always fantasize that an editor is going to say to me, “Yes, Karen, I know we assigned this story at 2500 words but yes, let’s use all 5000 words you’ve given us because this topic is just sooo interesting.”

Never happens.

You’d think I’d learn. I haven’t. I still dream.

In all your stories you have a really strong element of scene and dialogue. How important is that to you? Do you do this consciously? Do you tape record while you’re reporting? What do you hope to achieve with these injections of dialogue?

Yes, the decision to include a lot of scenes and dialogues is a conscious one. I do it for two reasons.

1) I’m a very lazy reader myself. I always like the fast-pace of dialogue and scenes that suck me into the story so I try to do the same with my work. The dialogue and scenes are designed to seduce readers with the tools of fiction, tools that are used to create emotional intimacy, connection, a sense of drama and entertainment.

These scenes are the dessert—though they come first and are sprinkled throughout the piece.

They seduce readers, hopefully, to keep reading. They are designed to make the medicine—the fact-heavy, contextualizing scenes—more palatable.

2) I am always searching for a magazine that is willing to let me get the balance between these two things—scenic passages and contextualizing passages—perfect.

My theory is that people are moved to action based on an emotional response. (The character or circumstances resonate deeply with them based on how the person expresses him or herself, how she tells her story, how she see herself, how she moves through and interacts with the world, etc. It takes dialogue and space to develop proper scenes.) For example, think about how reporters are always saying things like, “Every four minutes a woman dies from breast cancer.” I don’t think that means anything to readers. It’s too abstract. Better to paint an intimate portrait of a breast-cancer patient as she goes through a grueling treatment, then drop in that phrase that admittedly us reporters lean heavily on: “But she is not alone. Every year TK women die of breast cancer…”

Once people are moved to act because they had an emotional response to something, they need the tools totake action. This is where the contextualizing sections come in. This is the part of the story that gives the background, big picture, scope of the problem, etc.

The key is to strike the right balance between these two things, help readers make an emotional connection and then give them the context they need to understand the problem and take action.

How did you decide on the structure of the piece?

I tend to toggle between the scenes and the context section—ideally the scenes unfold in chronological order but I often scrap that based on putting the best scenes at the beginning and the end of the story. 

What a poetic way to end the piece – the haunting image of a lone ovenbird sitting on the tailgate of a truck. Can you talk a little bit about how you chose to end it?

I really enjoyed talking to Lynne Parks because she had a reflective, philosophical nature—and this was a moment that felt like it encapsulated that. It was also a moment that echoed the earlier reference to the bird’s call of “teacher, teacher.”

It resonated with me, and hopefully with readers, that these two women (and the birds they cared so much about) had something to teach all of us. 

If you were to do anything differently if you were to write the piece again – what would it be?

Hmm. I would beg, and cry and stomp my feet in an effort to convince editors that it should run in its 6000-word entirety! I know, I know, editors are always telling us we must “kill our darlings” as they slice and dice but I resist. I resist. (And alas, if any prospective editors are reading this, I probably just lost a few gigs cuz who wants to work with a contrarian like me? But hey, my cards are on the table.)

Aside from my pipe dreams of length, I wish I had thought to suggest that a video staffer do a short video to go with the online version. It would be nice to include, for example, the sounds of the birds, the eerie early-morning walks around the Baltimore Harbor and more photographs from the Smithsonian bird morgue. 

I know you’re not an environmental journalist but as a reader, is there anything you would like to see more of in environmental journalism?

I want to be seduced and surprised. I want to read long-form narratives about people who are affected by environmental problems—and even disasters. For example, what does Chernobyl look like today? And I always love stories about activists. Like I said above, people who are passionate, committed, obsessive make great subjects.

Follow more of Houppert’s work at http://www.karenhoppert.com


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