In the Washington Post last week, Joel Achenbach wrote an interesting feature on the diminishing opportunities for long-form narrative nonfiction in the newspaper-death-spiral/Twitter/iPhone era.

As seems to be the case anytime that I read about trends in the magazine and news business world these days, the outlook isn’t promising.

There seem to be two lines of thought: one is that modern audiences don’t have the patience or the attention span for longer narratives, which is why they watch reality TV shows and love Twitter. The other line says that people still want good journalism and storytelling: the problem has to do with the business model of publishing, not with the demand for good narrative. Achenbach gets to the heart of the problem:

Good stories take time to craft. Good writers, editors, copy editors, photographers, etc., all expect a living wage. The real question in the months and years ahead is whether there’s a business model that can support good stories. Norman Sims, journalism professor at the University of Massachusetts Amherst: “The great stories will survive. But the question is who’s going to pay for them. . . . This is not fast food. This is slow food. And it’s expensive.”

And that’s part of the challenge as a writer. There are lots of opportunities to deliver “fast food” writing: short, punchy pieces. Sidebars. Lists. Examiner.com would rather I write five short posts a week than one long, thoughtful one. Getting the chance to write good, long-form narrative is a big challenge.

For what its worth, call me a optimist. There’s no question that there are a lot of ADD Americans out there who lose interest after 140 characters. But most people still crave good stories, true ones or fiction. It’s in our DNA. I see it with co-workers who are counting down the days until return of Lost, gripped with “what’s going to happen next.” I see it on the Metro, with commuters nose down in Dan Brown and Stephanie Meyer books. I see in in my 18-month old daughter when she begs me to keep reading to her at night.

Arianna is conquering journalism?

Editor & Publisher reports today that the Huffington Post, which didn’t exist until 2005, had more unique visitors than the Washington Post web site in September.

It doesn’t help that the Post editorial page has drifted to the right for a decade, that the editors allow for gross inaccuracies and distortions by one of its most prominent columnists, or that it has decided to diminish the Washington Post Magazine by striving to make it “lighter and happier.”

I’m not sure what’s more amazing about this: a) that a political web site started up four years ago by a wealthy left-wing celebrity has build a bigger online readership than a legendary American newspaper, or b) how rapidly a legendary American newspaper continues to shrivel away both in substance and reputation.

Dana Goldstein, a former CAP co-worker who now writes for The Amercan Prospect, put up a post on “Journalism’s Elitism Problem.” In short, she points out that the career path for many professional writers involves four years of college education (and any debt that comes with that) followed by unpaid (or barely paid) internships, which leads to the relatively low-paying jobs in journalism. The result: a pool of would-be writers narrowed down, most often, to the wealthy, white elite who can afford it:

The average student-debt burden in the United States is $23,186. Believe it or not, that’s also a typical entry-level salary at a “thought leader” magazine. It is economically irrational for a highly educated person with that level of debt to choose journalism over law, consulting, advertising, or public relations. That’s not to say journalists don’t have student debt — many do. But it’s a difficult, sometimes discouraging slog, and you have to truly love this work.

Goldstein also points out that these barriers lead to a very selective group of people who can afford to work in the field of journalism, which in turn, affects the ideas and perspectives that dominate journalism:

It’s not hugely shocking that journalism has evolved into a career with significant entry barriers, one of which is the unpaid internship. This makes the profession whiter, wealthier (in terms of family wealth; salaries remain modest), and less concerned with public policy issues that affect the poor and even the middle class. While journalism was once a career that didn’t require a college degree, today it is highly elitist and dominated by graduates of selective colleges. In some fields, like political “think” journalism, the Ivy League schools are grossly overrepresented. (Yep, that includes me. I went to Brown.)

Her argument is spot-on, and helps explain why major outlets like the Washington Post and the New York Times so often seem to reflect a very narrow spectrum of opinion and ideology. It’s not a conspiracy or a sinister plot, but the major media wind up dominated by white, affluent Americans. Goldstein offers some policy ideas —- student loan reform and lower tuition — to try lower some of the barriers to a more diverse newsroom, though I suspect such changes are unlikely in the near future.

I know from my own experience that the barriers can be daunting. After graduating from college, I carried a huge amount of debt, so the possibility of an unpaid internship or even taking an entry-level journalism job someplace seemed unthinkable. Years later, when my writing itch persisted, I applied to journalism grad programs at Northwestern and Columbia, got accepted to both, but ultimately opted not to go when I stared down the astronomical tuition costs. I couldn’t fathom piling new debt on top of old debt, aware of the low salaries and unstable job prospects that awaited. Maybe I was a coward, but I blinked and didn’t go.

I’m fortunate enough to come from a relatively affluent middle class family and benefited from a fine education. And the unconventional path to a career in writing is a challenge. I’m still on the outside, looking in, fogging up the window. Yet I’m reminded that if it’s tough for me, how much steeper is the hill for someone who hasn’t had it as easy?

Baltimore Sun Columnist Susan Reimer spoke to my graduate class last week giving us some tips and suggestions on writing columns, including:

• ask a lot of questions
• write what you know
• simplicity and clarity are key
• read other writers
• if you’re not an expert, admit it
• be a contrarian

Michael Vick is a bad man.

The last one, “be a contrarian,” came to mind when I read her latest column for the Sun, Call off the dogs; Vick’s paid enough. It’s a good read, and well-argued column that makes the case that as bad as NFL player and dog-killer Michael Vick might be, the punishment for his crimes have been excessive:

This country is completely schizophrenic in its treatment of animals. Not only do we eat them, we treat them with inhumanity before we do. And we hunt them for sport. There was a lottery for the pleasure of killing bears, for heaven’s sake. The winners celebrated their good fortune. The bears? Not so much.

Dogs, unlike cows, pigs, chickens and deer, had the good fortune to respond to domestication centuries ago, and for that reason we label them friends, apparently in better standing that the wives, girlfriends or random hotel workers and night-clubbers who happen to get in the way of other sports stars.

I asked Reimer if the column was what she really thought, or whether she wrote it to “be contrarian,” work up readers, and try to spark a strong reaction. She sprang to life, arguing her case to me, raising her voice and gesturing dramatically. It reminded me of many loud, animated dinner table debates I had growing up in an Italian-Jewish family. Her passion suggested that her argument was her argument, not just a devil’s advocate position whipped up to generate web traffic. Her defense of Vick works well, in part, because it’s based on a genuine opinion, not some reflexive effort to flip expectations and take the unpopular side of public sentiment.

So a lesson to take from this: being contrarian is an effective tactic as a writer; being a contrarian with conviction is even better.

I’m back from Boston now, after my second Nieman Conference. Overall, another really impressive, well-run event. Kudos to everyone at the Nieman Foundation for putting on a fine conference.

A few quick closing thoughts:

Books I want to buy now, based on what I saw in Boston:

• D.C. Comics Guide to Writing Comics. Tom French swears its the best book on narrative structure he’s read. Plus it’s got Batman in it. Sold.
• One Person/Multiple Careers by Marci Alboher. I already have a “slash” life; I’d like to manage it better.
• The Unquiet Ghost: Russians Remember Stalin by Adam Hochschild. I’m already a big fan of Hochschild’s work, but the more I’ve heard him talk about this book, the more I can’t wait to read it.

A few overall impressions from the conference:

• Journalists are in a rough spot right now. Issues involving the collapsing newspaper business and the seemingly shrinking prospects for good, meaningful journalism kept coming up. It was the elephant stomping through the Boston Sheraton. I will remember Connie Schultz‘s words to the people in the hall: “The business model is broken. You are not broken.”
• I’m an experienced, professional web and multimedia designer who wants to do more writing. I found myself surrounded by lots of experienced, professional writers who want to do web and multimedia. Maybe we can meet in the middle someplace?
• Most journalists and writers seems to genuinely love what they do. Often, they make financial sacrifices to stay in their careers, but few seem to regret it. A lot of conferences feel cold and formal, with people milling about, shaking hands, handing out cards, trying awkwardly to seem excited to be there. Not here. Most of the people I met were passionate and excited about their work, getting better, and learning from others. That’s the kind of people I like to be around.

I hope to be back in 2010…

At the Nieman Conference, everyone talks about “storytelling.” It’s what most writers here aspire to, rather than everyday news journalism. So when I walked into the main hall for the Connie Schultz keynote address, the story of the state of the journalism industry was told in the size of the room itself. The welcome and keynote was in the same hall as last year, but a room divider had been added. There were still hundreds of people, but by the looks of it, about half as many as in 2008. Schultz’s speech was great, but the welcome session felt, at times, like a funeral.

But it wasn’t all doom and gloom. Schultz shared some inspirational stories and encouragement for writers. “Being scared,” she said, “sometimes is a really good thing.” I wasn’t familiar with Schultz, a Pulitzer -Prize-winning columnist for the Cleveland Plain Dealer, but I’m a fan now. She blended personal stories with professional insights and humor. She talked about her father, a working-class man who hated his job and once said to her “you could teach a monkey to do what I do,” and how he dreamed of giving his daughters the life he didn’t have. I almost teared up. (Being a new father tends to make me a sucker for fatherhood stories). She closed with a word of encouragement to the audience, some of whom lost their jobs in the past year: “Every narrative has a beginning, middle, and an end… including yours.”

The fact that I’m here, at this conference, trying to reinvent myself as the writer I always should have been, is a testament to that idea.

Tom French

The first session I attended was “Narrative Archaeology” with Tom French. As I expected, having seen French last year, it was a great session, filled with practical tips and techniques for doing narrative journalism. French, another Pulitzer Prize winner, recently left the St. Petersburg Times to take a job teaching journalism at Indiana University. His departure from daily journalism is sad, but also makes sense: He’s a natural teacher, with a tremendous conversational style and a wealth of experience as a feature writer and editor.

His handout, “Hunting and Gathering” (PDF) covers some key ideas about the how to report for good featuring writing. Here are a few of the best gems from his presentation that didn’t make the handout:

• When trying to do narrative on deadline, “choose a scene and zoom in tight
• When in doubt, under-explain” (let your readers put the piece together; they’re usually smarter than we expect)
• French says that after reporting for a story, he typically has ten times as much content as he can use. How to select what makes the cut? Make a “greatest hits” list: quotes, scenes, details that you would “die” if they didn’t make the story, and start from there. Most likely, he notes, even all of those won’t make it.

Next, I attended Walt Harrington’s session on “Intimate Journalism: How to go from “sources in a story” to characters who reveal the human condition.” While I have tremendous respect for Harrington as a writer, this session was disappointing. Harrington was the opposite of French: formal, scripted, and, it seemed to me, somewhat aloof. For the first half of it, Harrington basically read from a prepared speech on the merits of deep, sophisticated narrative journalism and how hard it is. It was an interesting piece that I’d like to read, but I’d rather he had talked more informally about his process and how he learned to do his work. The Q&A that followed his speech was a little more interesting.

Harrington is skeptical that anyone can become a good narrative journalist by taking workshops and reading about techniques. Instead, he argues, you have to “learn to do it only by doing it.” His other simple suggestion, other than years of experience and hard work, is that if you want to be a good nonfiction writer, you need to read a lot of good nonfiction. I think he’s right on all of this, of course, but it still would have been helpful to hear more stories and examples of the lessons he learned along the way of becoming a great writer himself.

After that, I roamed around the reception for a bit (I’m terrible at these things), ate crackers, and met Modou Nyang, who came all the way from Gambia to attend the conference. Very nice guy. Made the trip from D.C. seem like a short walk…