Back when I was studying for a master's in journalism at UW–Madison, I spent a lot of time on news.wisc.edu, the University Communications website. The depth and breadth of its coverage made it a fertile ground for article ideas and academic experts for my writing assignments.
After I joined the magazine I signed up for their media press releases and often marveled at how thoroughly reported and well written they were. I used to joke about how the newspapers should've just printed the releases verbatim; often they were smarter and more provocative than the stories that showed up in the next day's news.
When uber-talented UW communications staffer Tim Kelley was lured back to the State Journal, I wasn't surprised. He penned a ton of great stories that came out of the press office. Tim also wrote for the magazine for a time. He was one of those freelancers who took an assignment, you wouldn't hear boo from him for a month, and then he'd file a story you hardly had to edit. You never quite felt like you were earning your keep. Tim's still at the State Journal as its digital media manager for madison.com.
Another UW communicator I admire is Michael Penn. He wrote and edited for the UW alumni magazine On Wisconsin for many years and is now with a College of Agriculture and Life Sciences magazine called Grow. Michael is an excellent storyteller, and he has a knack for reporting that a lot of writers think they have but don't. He gets that readers want more than the who, what, where and engages them in an intellectual joyride.
Check out Penn's recent article on corn, called "Grain of Doubt." If you've read The Omnivore's Dilemma, or even if you haven't, it's a local complement to the global discussion about the corn crop and how it is, in detrimental ways, taking over the planet's agricultural system. Remarkable, and a little bit scary.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Diversity Almost Done!
While I hope readers are busy devouring all things pet in our current issue of Madison Magazine, my staff is a little busy on the next issue. Thing is, it’s not just any issue, it’s two magazines in one. For more than a year now we’ve been planning for a new, 68-page magazine celebrating diversity in the Madison area. It’s called Spectrum Magazine, and the organization we’re producing it for is the Madison Area Diversity Roundtable. They are an amazing group of Madisonians I’ll blog about later, but for now I want to brag about the writers and designers who are, like I said, B-U-S-Y putting this important publication together.
Laura Salinger, who has deftly covered a broad range of issues and topics for The Madison Times, Capital City Hues and Asian Wisconzine, wrote most of the major articles, and a whole slew of smart, talented people, including all of our editors, designers and more than a dozen area freelance writers and photographers, have been laboring to make this magazine matter in a community that embraces diversity but doesn’t always follow through in executing it. (More on that later, too.) For now, just know that I can hardly think straight, much less blog straight, because I’m so nervous and excited about sharing Spectrum with you.
It’s been hard and exhilarating to help birth a new magazine … and remarkably, the labor has been longer than my seven-year-old who took her own sweet time in production. But in a few short weeks Spectrum Magazine will ride along with the January issue of Madison Magazine, which we’re dubbing “Big Ideas.” The Spectrum concept is a perfect fit for a magazine about what our city and its people can accomplish if we set our minds to it. Because we all know that ideas are only as good, or as big, as those of us willing to work to make them happen.
Laura Salinger, who has deftly covered a broad range of issues and topics for The Madison Times, Capital City Hues and Asian Wisconzine, wrote most of the major articles, and a whole slew of smart, talented people, including all of our editors, designers and more than a dozen area freelance writers and photographers, have been laboring to make this magazine matter in a community that embraces diversity but doesn’t always follow through in executing it. (More on that later, too.) For now, just know that I can hardly think straight, much less blog straight, because I’m so nervous and excited about sharing Spectrum with you.
It’s been hard and exhilarating to help birth a new magazine … and remarkably, the labor has been longer than my seven-year-old who took her own sweet time in production. But in a few short weeks Spectrum Magazine will ride along with the January issue of Madison Magazine, which we’re dubbing “Big Ideas.” The Spectrum concept is a perfect fit for a magazine about what our city and its people can accomplish if we set our minds to it. Because we all know that ideas are only as good, or as big, as those of us willing to work to make them happen.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Op-Ed Epiphany
This is going to sound so corny, but as I read the State Journal’s latest op-ed, “Don’t let pols pick their votes,” I had an epiphany about Wisconsin politics. Last Sunday the thoughtful and paid-to-be opinionated editorial page writers were opining about the state’s rotten redistricting rules designed by and for incumbents to protect their legislative seats. Lefties and conservatives both took the heat for allowing the once-a-decade line drawing to conveniently shed voting districts that aren’t exactly keen on their brand of politics.
As a trained journalist, I can be skeptical about the reckless nature of power and influence. And I can wax all poetic about how crucial it is for democratic societies to examine and question the role of leadership and government. Frankly, that’s why I’ve been so pissed lately that newsrooms have been virtually abandoned by their corporate owners and ungrateful advertisers. (Is it just me or do the ads in the State Journal lately look like invasive species choking healthy flora?). But at the same time, I have always felt that most people in charge—be they teachers, priests, doctors or politicians—have their community’s best interests at heart.
So it’s with a heavy—and a little bit guilty—heart that I share my epiphany. Wisconsin started its journey into the 20th century a progressive and principled role model. It finished out the 1990s a fat and happy cat, the kind that led to political cronies, legislative caucus scandals and now, because all good things must come to an end, five-billion—BILLION—dollar deficits. It’s atrocious. And what I realized reading the op-ed column Sunday was that Wisconsinites like me are so used to good, clean government and a reputation for years and years and years of best behavior by our elected officials that we can't acknowledge or accept how much damage has been done. We’re no longer a role model; we’re the girl you don’t dare bring home to your parents.
Fellow Midwestern states like Iowa—let me repeat: IOWA—have gotten the best of us when it comes to something as straightforward and little “d” democratic as redistricting. Then there’s another neighbor called Minnesota, with sparkling clean lakes and a taxation system that experts say is a friend to businesses, government and education without bleeding taxpayers’ wallets.
For so many years we’ve voted so many good and honest people into office—Democrat, Republican or Ed Thompson—that we’ve taken for granted our privilege and responsibility to hold these humans, with all of their imperfections, accountable. Then we’re shocked and appalled when they pass a Band-Aid solution to funding public education, campaign on the taxpayers’ dime, or hold a budget hostage to protect the special interests and party leadership that got them elected.
We’ve all had our political epiphanies. Mine is admittedly a variation on a pundit’s theme, and frankly, a little too late. While my belated “aha” moment won’t do much for that state of our state, it reminds me of the incredible importance of our editorial voices, whether they are in print, online or over the airwaves. They are made up of smart, well reasoned and well-read professionals who tell us what they think--not because, like our politicians, they want our vote in the districts they’ve drawn like kids with too many crayons, but because they want us to know the facts as they see them.
We might not agree with the op-ed pages every time, but we should respect what they have to say, and in many cases, thank them for having the courage to put pen to dying paper.
As a trained journalist, I can be skeptical about the reckless nature of power and influence. And I can wax all poetic about how crucial it is for democratic societies to examine and question the role of leadership and government. Frankly, that’s why I’ve been so pissed lately that newsrooms have been virtually abandoned by their corporate owners and ungrateful advertisers. (Is it just me or do the ads in the State Journal lately look like invasive species choking healthy flora?). But at the same time, I have always felt that most people in charge—be they teachers, priests, doctors or politicians—have their community’s best interests at heart.
So it’s with a heavy—and a little bit guilty—heart that I share my epiphany. Wisconsin started its journey into the 20th century a progressive and principled role model. It finished out the 1990s a fat and happy cat, the kind that led to political cronies, legislative caucus scandals and now, because all good things must come to an end, five-billion—BILLION—dollar deficits. It’s atrocious. And what I realized reading the op-ed column Sunday was that Wisconsinites like me are so used to good, clean government and a reputation for years and years and years of best behavior by our elected officials that we can't acknowledge or accept how much damage has been done. We’re no longer a role model; we’re the girl you don’t dare bring home to your parents.
Fellow Midwestern states like Iowa—let me repeat: IOWA—have gotten the best of us when it comes to something as straightforward and little “d” democratic as redistricting. Then there’s another neighbor called Minnesota, with sparkling clean lakes and a taxation system that experts say is a friend to businesses, government and education without bleeding taxpayers’ wallets.
For so many years we’ve voted so many good and honest people into office—Democrat, Republican or Ed Thompson—that we’ve taken for granted our privilege and responsibility to hold these humans, with all of their imperfections, accountable. Then we’re shocked and appalled when they pass a Band-Aid solution to funding public education, campaign on the taxpayers’ dime, or hold a budget hostage to protect the special interests and party leadership that got them elected.
We’ve all had our political epiphanies. Mine is admittedly a variation on a pundit’s theme, and frankly, a little too late. While my belated “aha” moment won’t do much for that state of our state, it reminds me of the incredible importance of our editorial voices, whether they are in print, online or over the airwaves. They are made up of smart, well reasoned and well-read professionals who tell us what they think--not because, like our politicians, they want our vote in the districts they’ve drawn like kids with too many crayons, but because they want us to know the facts as they see them.
We might not agree with the op-ed pages every time, but we should respect what they have to say, and in many cases, thank them for having the courage to put pen to dying paper.
Friday, November 14, 2008
First Step
Our November story on domestic violence (on newsstands now!) has struck a chord. The advocacy community praised it (though I received some understandable flak for not running the crisis hotline number: 251-4445). Survivors identified with it and took the time to let us know. But best of all, we’ve heard an anecdotal story or two about how it helped bring someone the courage to leave an abusive situation.
That’s exactly why we titled the article “Seeing is Believing.” If you see yourself or a loved one in one of those remarkable stories of survival, you might believe in yourself and your situation. You might acknowledge that it’s real, and happening to you, and that you need to get help.
The title was also intended to shed light on one of society's greatest failures because so often domestic violence goes unnoticed or ignored by friends, neighbors, employers and the media. It takes a village to recognize and refuse to allow chronic and dangerous emotional and physical violence. And when we do so, we take the power out of the hands of the abuser. It becomes a community problem—like homelessness, burglary, or jaywalking—that is no longer tolerated just because it goes on behind closed doors. It says to the abuser: what you are doing is wrong, even illegal. So stop, get help, or go to jail.
The subject has so deeply affected the author of the article, Maggie Ginsberg-Schutz, that she is building an online community of support for a new blog called Violence UnSilenced. Here’s Maggie’s latest update on her own terrific blog, which is spawning her new advocacy campaign.
When the domestic violence blog goes live, I’m going to ask survivors to speak out. And because they are brave enough to speak out, I’m going to ask the rest of us to pledge to listen. I hope you will take up that challenge. Please, keep listening.
A few days after Maggie’s article came out, I ran into my friend Bill at the Harmony Bar. Bill is a writer and a poet, a gadfly and a grandpa … an all-around good guy. Though I respect his politics, we usually disagree. And yet, when we got to talking about domestic violence Bill launched (as Bill is wont to do) into a diatribe about women’s liberation. If women are not free, healthy and educated, Bill told me, economies collapse, democracies fail and societies are ruined. The world needs more women in power, he continued, because they won’t let their sons go off to war without a fight of their own.
While Bill was pontificating I thought of the Taliban in Afghanistan and their oppression of women. I thought about how every nine minutes a woman in the U.S. is beaten. I thought about how women still earn substantially less than men, which is often why they can’t leave an abusive situation. I thought about my mom, who helped get my hometown’s first battered women’s shelter off the ground. How she would make me close my eyes when we drove there because even a little girl might tell the wrong person where it was.
But not everybody understands the fundamental truth about women like Bill does—he and I do agree on that one. Which is why we need more survivors telling their stories to Maggie and more Maggies launching blogs and more moms volunteering at shelters and more Bills spreading the gospel from barstool to barstool. We all have something we can offer the cause.
What can you do?
That’s exactly why we titled the article “Seeing is Believing.” If you see yourself or a loved one in one of those remarkable stories of survival, you might believe in yourself and your situation. You might acknowledge that it’s real, and happening to you, and that you need to get help.
The title was also intended to shed light on one of society's greatest failures because so often domestic violence goes unnoticed or ignored by friends, neighbors, employers and the media. It takes a village to recognize and refuse to allow chronic and dangerous emotional and physical violence. And when we do so, we take the power out of the hands of the abuser. It becomes a community problem—like homelessness, burglary, or jaywalking—that is no longer tolerated just because it goes on behind closed doors. It says to the abuser: what you are doing is wrong, even illegal. So stop, get help, or go to jail.
The subject has so deeply affected the author of the article, Maggie Ginsberg-Schutz, that she is building an online community of support for a new blog called Violence UnSilenced. Here’s Maggie’s latest update on her own terrific blog, which is spawning her new advocacy campaign.
When the domestic violence blog goes live, I’m going to ask survivors to speak out. And because they are brave enough to speak out, I’m going to ask the rest of us to pledge to listen. I hope you will take up that challenge. Please, keep listening.
A few days after Maggie’s article came out, I ran into my friend Bill at the Harmony Bar. Bill is a writer and a poet, a gadfly and a grandpa … an all-around good guy. Though I respect his politics, we usually disagree. And yet, when we got to talking about domestic violence Bill launched (as Bill is wont to do) into a diatribe about women’s liberation. If women are not free, healthy and educated, Bill told me, economies collapse, democracies fail and societies are ruined. The world needs more women in power, he continued, because they won’t let their sons go off to war without a fight of their own.
While Bill was pontificating I thought of the Taliban in Afghanistan and their oppression of women. I thought about how every nine minutes a woman in the U.S. is beaten. I thought about how women still earn substantially less than men, which is often why they can’t leave an abusive situation. I thought about my mom, who helped get my hometown’s first battered women’s shelter off the ground. How she would make me close my eyes when we drove there because even a little girl might tell the wrong person where it was.
But not everybody understands the fundamental truth about women like Bill does—he and I do agree on that one. Which is why we need more survivors telling their stories to Maggie and more Maggies launching blogs and more moms volunteering at shelters and more Bills spreading the gospel from barstool to barstool. We all have something we can offer the cause.
What can you do?
Friday, October 31, 2008
Well Done
So it’s an embarrassment of riches when we are lucky enough to have two well stories in a single issue. In the magazine business, the “well” is the place where you run the meaty, in-depth features, which usually includes the cover story. With our little glossy—as opposed to, say, Vanity Fair—the well is often home to only one feature-length story. We try to dedicate as much space as we can to the well because it’s important to let a story breathe, to let the pictures compel the reader to come join in the conversation. And that it will be worth their precious time. In November we had two important stories to tell, so we decided, come hell or high water, to squeeze them both in.
The first is a profile of Madison’s Police Chief Noble Wray, who we named our 2008 Person of the Year. Public safety is on everyone’s minds—tonight’s Halloween festivities, which haven’t always ended well, are a prime example of why. And while Chief Wray has worked hard to make Halloween less drunken, reckless debauchery and more good, clean fun, citizens throughout the city aren’t feeling as safe these days. So we asked award-winning writer Frank Bures to explore the problem through the lens of a quiet and thoughtful Wray, who is policing a city that can no longer afford to see itself as a quaint little college town.
The second well story is a stunning portrait of seven survivors of domestic violence. Writer Maggie Ginsberg-Schutz weaves the stories of isolating fear and remarkable resilience together in a way that somehow gives me hope. That these women were brave enough to tell us what they went through means we can no longer ignore the pain and suffering that goes on behind closed doors. When women and children are abused and subjugated, societies weaken. Look at the Taliban in Afghanistan for evidence of the worst possible outcome of inequality and rule by ignorance and force. And even in a place like Madison, violence against women happens everyday but we don’t hear about it unless someone is severely injured or killed.
So if I was lucky to have two well stories in the magazine this month, I hit the jackpot with the writers who penned them. Frank and Maggie are two of my favorite storytellers, so I decided to ask them a few questions about how they do what they do so very well.
Maggie: What was it about the story of domestic violence that made you want to write about it? How prevalent it is (one in four women), and how little press it gets unless someone dies. The whole “murder-suicide” thing bugs me to no end, because it makes these events seem like isolated incidences—well, they're not. They are the inevitable end to a long-standing cycle of abuse within a relationship. I also knew that one third to one half of all Dane County arrests are domestic-violence related, so that made the lack of news coverage even more appalling to me. But it’s not that the media is being irresponsible, it’s far more complicated than that. Because of safety and privacy issues, because of fear and shame, these women are essentially muzzled. But abusers get their power manipulating those very same things—so maybe if we keep dragging the issue kicking and screaming out into the open, some of that power can be reversed. Mostly, it was really important to me to give these survivors a voice, and to show everybody else just how common these stories are.
Frank: You’ve profiled Bishop Morlino, Sen. Russ Feingold, brain researcher Richard Davidson and others for me over the last few years. What was different about Police Chief Noble Wray? One of my favorite writers, Gary Smith, says, “Each person’s life is a problem to be solved.” I think that’s really true. And not only is their life a problem they (and you the writer) are trying to solve, but there’s some larger story around their personal story that gives their story meaning. With Morlino it was the search for absolutes in a shifting world. With Feingold, it was a question of how you make the biggest decision of your life. With [UW–Madison men’s football coach] Bret Bielema it was the personal cost of success. With Davidson it was a question of free will. Noble Wray’s story, how he came from a tough background and rose to the top, is the perfect American story. But the larger narrative around that is about how Madison is changing, evolving, and what part Wray plays in that story. The challenge with writing about him was that he doesn’t much like to talk about himself, which is fine if you’re his neighbor, but not so good if you’re profiling him.
Maggie: You told me you envisioned the way you would write the story before you actually interviewed the seven survivors. How did that evolve as you went through the interview process and then sat down to write? If you’re trying to get me to publicly admit I hear voices in my head, then fine, you win. From the beginning I could hear the women’s voices in a chorus, kind of overlapping. Since I don’t like to go into a story knowing what I’m going to write, I tried to just get out of the way and focus on being a megaphone for them. But as the interviewing process went on, I was really struck by how different each of these women were, but how many of them were saying the exact same core things. One night I dreamed the story in its current format, with the women’s stories connected by identical quotes. So when I sat down to write, the only real outline I did was connecting those quotes in the right order. Then I just let the women speak. You’re welcome, I look totally crazy now.
Frank: I talk to a lot of young writers and journalism students about how in magazine journalism we “show, don’t tell” a story. In your profiles, you often do this by setting some amazing scenes for the reader. Talk a little bit about that process. Yeah, that’s a big difference between magazine and newspaper writing. What I do is sometimes called “narrative nonfiction,” where you’re trying to recreate a scene and transport the reader there. It involves more detailed and imaginative reporting, and I think it’s where my background as a travel writer comes in handy. You want the reader to be able to see and feel and hear the things that were going on, and in a way that contributes to the storyline, not in a way that’s just throwing things in. It’s basically storytelling through pictures and images—you have to visualize it. In the classic anthology, The New Journalism, Tom Wolfe says that with this kind of writing, information isn’t the basic unit of reporting. The scene is. So you have to imagine it, report it, recreate it and interpret it. And this can be hard with profiles, because you’re basically taking someone else’s life and making it your own.
As far as “show don’t tell,” it’s easy to say, hard to do. Basically I avoid adjectives, and try not to write in a way that manipulates someone into feeling/thinking/seeing something. I want them to arrive there themselves.
Maggie: It’s difficult to do these kinds of stories without being personally affected by them. How has this experience affected you? Well, I’m not letting it go. It’s definitely under my skin. I am considering starting a domestic violence blog to keep the conversation going, and I’ll probably keep bugging you for follow-up stories. I am completely humbled by the bravery these seven women showed in trusting me, in allowing me to speak for them— but there are many, many more who don’t have that option at all. Yes, it was emotional and depressing, but more than that it was really inspiring. I’m raising daughters. I feel like it’s my mandate to do my part in solving a social issue this critical. I want everyone else to feel that way, too.
Frank: You have two bylines in the November issue—you also wrote our travel essay and it’s this crazy trip you took from the suburb of Verona to downtown Madison by foot. First, what the hell were you thinking? Second, what are trying to convey to the reader through this kind of travel writing versus the more conventional service-oriented “go, see, do” story?
1.) I have no idea what I was thinking.
2.) One big pet peeve of mine is how everything in our society is preconceived and packaged for sale. This peeve doubles when it comes to travel, because travel is so much about your own experience in a place. And half of that experience—or more than half—is the imagination and insight you bring to it, as well as how you let it change you. So one thing I hoped to do with this piece was to inspire people to create their own experiences rather than just pay to consume someone else’s. There are so many fascinating things in this world, but they’re all on the road less taken. And that road lead me from Verona to Madison. It involved some chafing.
Chafing. I think I’ll leave it at that. Now do you see why I’m a very lucky editor?
The first is a profile of Madison’s Police Chief Noble Wray, who we named our 2008 Person of the Year. Public safety is on everyone’s minds—tonight’s Halloween festivities, which haven’t always ended well, are a prime example of why. And while Chief Wray has worked hard to make Halloween less drunken, reckless debauchery and more good, clean fun, citizens throughout the city aren’t feeling as safe these days. So we asked award-winning writer Frank Bures to explore the problem through the lens of a quiet and thoughtful Wray, who is policing a city that can no longer afford to see itself as a quaint little college town.
The second well story is a stunning portrait of seven survivors of domestic violence. Writer Maggie Ginsberg-Schutz weaves the stories of isolating fear and remarkable resilience together in a way that somehow gives me hope. That these women were brave enough to tell us what they went through means we can no longer ignore the pain and suffering that goes on behind closed doors. When women and children are abused and subjugated, societies weaken. Look at the Taliban in Afghanistan for evidence of the worst possible outcome of inequality and rule by ignorance and force. And even in a place like Madison, violence against women happens everyday but we don’t hear about it unless someone is severely injured or killed.
So if I was lucky to have two well stories in the magazine this month, I hit the jackpot with the writers who penned them. Frank and Maggie are two of my favorite storytellers, so I decided to ask them a few questions about how they do what they do so very well.
Maggie: What was it about the story of domestic violence that made you want to write about it? How prevalent it is (one in four women), and how little press it gets unless someone dies. The whole “murder-suicide” thing bugs me to no end, because it makes these events seem like isolated incidences—well, they're not. They are the inevitable end to a long-standing cycle of abuse within a relationship. I also knew that one third to one half of all Dane County arrests are domestic-violence related, so that made the lack of news coverage even more appalling to me. But it’s not that the media is being irresponsible, it’s far more complicated than that. Because of safety and privacy issues, because of fear and shame, these women are essentially muzzled. But abusers get their power manipulating those very same things—so maybe if we keep dragging the issue kicking and screaming out into the open, some of that power can be reversed. Mostly, it was really important to me to give these survivors a voice, and to show everybody else just how common these stories are.
Frank: You’ve profiled Bishop Morlino, Sen. Russ Feingold, brain researcher Richard Davidson and others for me over the last few years. What was different about Police Chief Noble Wray? One of my favorite writers, Gary Smith, says, “Each person’s life is a problem to be solved.” I think that’s really true. And not only is their life a problem they (and you the writer) are trying to solve, but there’s some larger story around their personal story that gives their story meaning. With Morlino it was the search for absolutes in a shifting world. With Feingold, it was a question of how you make the biggest decision of your life. With [UW–Madison men’s football coach] Bret Bielema it was the personal cost of success. With Davidson it was a question of free will. Noble Wray’s story, how he came from a tough background and rose to the top, is the perfect American story. But the larger narrative around that is about how Madison is changing, evolving, and what part Wray plays in that story. The challenge with writing about him was that he doesn’t much like to talk about himself, which is fine if you’re his neighbor, but not so good if you’re profiling him.
Maggie: You told me you envisioned the way you would write the story before you actually interviewed the seven survivors. How did that evolve as you went through the interview process and then sat down to write? If you’re trying to get me to publicly admit I hear voices in my head, then fine, you win. From the beginning I could hear the women’s voices in a chorus, kind of overlapping. Since I don’t like to go into a story knowing what I’m going to write, I tried to just get out of the way and focus on being a megaphone for them. But as the interviewing process went on, I was really struck by how different each of these women were, but how many of them were saying the exact same core things. One night I dreamed the story in its current format, with the women’s stories connected by identical quotes. So when I sat down to write, the only real outline I did was connecting those quotes in the right order. Then I just let the women speak. You’re welcome, I look totally crazy now.
Frank: I talk to a lot of young writers and journalism students about how in magazine journalism we “show, don’t tell” a story. In your profiles, you often do this by setting some amazing scenes for the reader. Talk a little bit about that process. Yeah, that’s a big difference between magazine and newspaper writing. What I do is sometimes called “narrative nonfiction,” where you’re trying to recreate a scene and transport the reader there. It involves more detailed and imaginative reporting, and I think it’s where my background as a travel writer comes in handy. You want the reader to be able to see and feel and hear the things that were going on, and in a way that contributes to the storyline, not in a way that’s just throwing things in. It’s basically storytelling through pictures and images—you have to visualize it. In the classic anthology, The New Journalism, Tom Wolfe says that with this kind of writing, information isn’t the basic unit of reporting. The scene is. So you have to imagine it, report it, recreate it and interpret it. And this can be hard with profiles, because you’re basically taking someone else’s life and making it your own.
As far as “show don’t tell,” it’s easy to say, hard to do. Basically I avoid adjectives, and try not to write in a way that manipulates someone into feeling/thinking/seeing something. I want them to arrive there themselves.
Maggie: It’s difficult to do these kinds of stories without being personally affected by them. How has this experience affected you? Well, I’m not letting it go. It’s definitely under my skin. I am considering starting a domestic violence blog to keep the conversation going, and I’ll probably keep bugging you for follow-up stories. I am completely humbled by the bravery these seven women showed in trusting me, in allowing me to speak for them— but there are many, many more who don’t have that option at all. Yes, it was emotional and depressing, but more than that it was really inspiring. I’m raising daughters. I feel like it’s my mandate to do my part in solving a social issue this critical. I want everyone else to feel that way, too.
Frank: You have two bylines in the November issue—you also wrote our travel essay and it’s this crazy trip you took from the suburb of Verona to downtown Madison by foot. First, what the hell were you thinking? Second, what are trying to convey to the reader through this kind of travel writing versus the more conventional service-oriented “go, see, do” story?
1.) I have no idea what I was thinking.
2.) One big pet peeve of mine is how everything in our society is preconceived and packaged for sale. This peeve doubles when it comes to travel, because travel is so much about your own experience in a place. And half of that experience—or more than half—is the imagination and insight you bring to it, as well as how you let it change you. So one thing I hoped to do with this piece was to inspire people to create their own experiences rather than just pay to consume someone else’s. There are so many fascinating things in this world, but they’re all on the road less taken. And that road lead me from Verona to Madison. It involved some chafing.
Chafing. I think I’ll leave it at that. Now do you see why I’m a very lucky editor?
Friday, October 17, 2008
Get Thee to the Festival!
The Wisconsin Book Festival is one of those community events you can take pride in—even if you had absolutely nothing to do with its launch or its success. You read. You buy books. You read some more. Of course you’ve contributed to the cultural milieu that could sustain such an enlightened gathering of authors and book worshippers! I, for one, can’t say the same for the Ironman. Swim, bike and run all you want. Make Madison look like the fittest city in the country—at least for one day—and I’ll be proud as punch. But I can’t lay any sort of claim to that remarkable survival of the fittest.
But if you are a book lover then this is your weekend to flex your literary muscles. If you like books and cooks, you might want to come on down to the Dardanelles on Sunday evening, where two of my favorite writers and foodies will be sharing stories and advice on how to ready a recipe for publication. Since I flirt with my microwave far more than my stove, it’s always amused me that the lovely Joan Peterson (see bio on book fest website), author of the terrific Eat Smart series of culinary travel books, has asked me to keynote the event for the last few years. I’m so grateful, though, because I get the chance to listen to and mingle with smart, fascinating people who experience both the joy and the art of eating in their lives.
My friends Terese Allen and Ronnie Hess are headlining the evening, followed by food sampling and conversation with the who’s who in local food writing and publishing. So come on out and join us at six for the talk and 7:15 for the food.
Hey, Ironman: it’s the ideal spot to load up on carbs!
For a primer on the event, I chatted with Terese Allen, who is busy preparing recipes for Sunday’s event, called The Book and the Cook.
What kind of stimulating conversation and delicious flavors we expect at the Book and the Cook? When people think about translating recipes there’s two ways to look at it: the writing of the recipes for publication and the process you go through. We start with the testing process … and how you might have to convert metric measurements from foreign languages or reduce recipes from a large size to a small size. Or it could be a professional chef’s language translated into everyday cooking language, or a language spoken in history with different terms or ingredients.
Ronnie is going to take a couple recipes and demo them. I’m going to take a recipe from each of four categories—professional, historical, café cook, and a home cook—and illustrate the before-and-after and why things need to be worded differently to be recreated in today’s home kitchen.
How is your latest book project coming along? We’re in the galley stage … It’s called The Flavor of Wisconsin, and it’s a revised and expanded second edition of Harva Hachten’s The Flavor of Wisconsin, which came out in 1981. It’s been a generation and everything’s changed…. The Wisconsin Historical Society Press asked me to fill in the historical dots and talk about what’s happened in Wisconsin culinary history. We’ll have 450 recipes with eight essays that take you through Wisconsin’s food and cooking history, both by chronology and by topic. Most of the recipes were in the first edition. This book was researched throughout the 1970s and during that time Harva and her staff were collecting recipes from Wisconsin kitchens. It’s just this really wonderful collection … they narrowed it down from 900 recipes. My job was to round out what possibly could’ve been missing from that and then to include recipes from New American cuisine and Wisconsin’s role in it, which is much bigger than people realize. I also added two chapters that expand greatly on her chapter on food and business.
*Ed’s Note: Harva Hachten (who wrote articles and columns for Madison Magazine) died suddenly in April 2006. “I wish she could’ve seen it but I’m very happy she knew before she died we were in this process,” says Terese.
Cookbooks and culinary writing seems to thrive here. Why? It absolutely does. Madison being the food town that it is, and also Wisconsin in general being such a literary place with lots of writers—a lot highly concentrated in Madison. I don’t think people understand what an epicenter we are, with the local food movement, the farmers’ market, the university, the seasonal cooking restaurants. We’re drawing from so many different interests around here. So the food and cooking comes together. It’s just a wonderful place to be if you’re interested in both… I’m sitting pretty!
When I started writing about regional food back when I was a chef at Ovens of Brittany in the eighties, I didn’t feel quite legitimate. It’s wonderful to look back now and see what’s happened. And it’s become a national phenomenon.
This Just In: I just got a press release reminding me that “October is pizza month! Although it's almost half way over, pizza is a timeless culinary treat you can savor any day of the week. To celebrate, the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board has put together an assortment of delicious recipes, from a traditional Margherite pizza to an innovative Bananas Foster pizza.”
And you thought ham and pineapple was a little weird...
P.S. Joan Peterson, author of the Eat Smart series of culinary travel guides, will also be appearing at the Madison Food & Wine Show this weekend!
But if you are a book lover then this is your weekend to flex your literary muscles. If you like books and cooks, you might want to come on down to the Dardanelles on Sunday evening, where two of my favorite writers and foodies will be sharing stories and advice on how to ready a recipe for publication. Since I flirt with my microwave far more than my stove, it’s always amused me that the lovely Joan Peterson (see bio on book fest website), author of the terrific Eat Smart series of culinary travel books, has asked me to keynote the event for the last few years. I’m so grateful, though, because I get the chance to listen to and mingle with smart, fascinating people who experience both the joy and the art of eating in their lives.
My friends Terese Allen and Ronnie Hess are headlining the evening, followed by food sampling and conversation with the who’s who in local food writing and publishing. So come on out and join us at six for the talk and 7:15 for the food.
Hey, Ironman: it’s the ideal spot to load up on carbs!
For a primer on the event, I chatted with Terese Allen, who is busy preparing recipes for Sunday’s event, called The Book and the Cook.
What kind of stimulating conversation and delicious flavors we expect at the Book and the Cook? When people think about translating recipes there’s two ways to look at it: the writing of the recipes for publication and the process you go through. We start with the testing process … and how you might have to convert metric measurements from foreign languages or reduce recipes from a large size to a small size. Or it could be a professional chef’s language translated into everyday cooking language, or a language spoken in history with different terms or ingredients.
Ronnie is going to take a couple recipes and demo them. I’m going to take a recipe from each of four categories—professional, historical, café cook, and a home cook—and illustrate the before-and-after and why things need to be worded differently to be recreated in today’s home kitchen.
How is your latest book project coming along? We’re in the galley stage … It’s called The Flavor of Wisconsin, and it’s a revised and expanded second edition of Harva Hachten’s The Flavor of Wisconsin, which came out in 1981. It’s been a generation and everything’s changed…. The Wisconsin Historical Society Press asked me to fill in the historical dots and talk about what’s happened in Wisconsin culinary history. We’ll have 450 recipes with eight essays that take you through Wisconsin’s food and cooking history, both by chronology and by topic. Most of the recipes were in the first edition. This book was researched throughout the 1970s and during that time Harva and her staff were collecting recipes from Wisconsin kitchens. It’s just this really wonderful collection … they narrowed it down from 900 recipes. My job was to round out what possibly could’ve been missing from that and then to include recipes from New American cuisine and Wisconsin’s role in it, which is much bigger than people realize. I also added two chapters that expand greatly on her chapter on food and business.
*Ed’s Note: Harva Hachten (who wrote articles and columns for Madison Magazine) died suddenly in April 2006. “I wish she could’ve seen it but I’m very happy she knew before she died we were in this process,” says Terese.
Cookbooks and culinary writing seems to thrive here. Why? It absolutely does. Madison being the food town that it is, and also Wisconsin in general being such a literary place with lots of writers—a lot highly concentrated in Madison. I don’t think people understand what an epicenter we are, with the local food movement, the farmers’ market, the university, the seasonal cooking restaurants. We’re drawing from so many different interests around here. So the food and cooking comes together. It’s just a wonderful place to be if you’re interested in both… I’m sitting pretty!
When I started writing about regional food back when I was a chef at Ovens of Brittany in the eighties, I didn’t feel quite legitimate. It’s wonderful to look back now and see what’s happened. And it’s become a national phenomenon.
This Just In: I just got a press release reminding me that “October is pizza month! Although it's almost half way over, pizza is a timeless culinary treat you can savor any day of the week. To celebrate, the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board has put together an assortment of delicious recipes, from a traditional Margherite pizza to an innovative Bananas Foster pizza.”
And you thought ham and pineapple was a little weird...
P.S. Joan Peterson, author of the Eat Smart series of culinary travel guides, will also be appearing at the Madison Food & Wine Show this weekend!
Friday, October 10, 2008
The Beat Goes On
Despite the fact that former Isthmus executive editor Marc Eisen won’t write for me (not yet, anyway), I thought it would be fun to let folks know what he’s been up to since he opted to become a staff cut. When the alt-weekly had to make some tough budget decisions this year, the veteran journalist decided it was time to try something else. Fortunately for all of us, Eisen had no intention to stop writing.
Since leaving Isthmus in August he’s picked up gigs with Milwaukee Magazine and The Progressive, even landing the latter’s November cover story, an interview with Berkeley professor and “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” author Michael Pollan.
Here’s how Eisen describes his very successful career, which is still very much in the making:
“I spent 30 years at Isthmus over two tours of duty. I also worked at The Capital Times, The West Bend News and The Racine Labor paper, and had a cup of coffee at The Janesville Gazette."
Here’s a bit about his personal life:
“My youngest daughter Hannah is a senior at East High and my oldest daughter Lauren ls a senior at UW-Oshkosh. Both have been instructed to not go into journalism. I'm married to Connie Kinsella, who is an executive with the University Medical Foundation."
Marc’s not the kind of guy that spends too much time contemplating his own navel. He’s too busy reporting and writing about the issues and ideas of the day, which is why I decided to ask him some unconventional questions. You could say I took the easy way out … or you could say that I was smart enough to know I’d be too easily beaten at my own game.
Since I left Isthmus I....have consciously made an effort to be less of an idiot with technology and to go to the Y regularly. There is no connection between the two except that my IPod is really loaded these days.
It never works when....I violate my deeply held belief to always anticipate—and avoid—situations where nothing will work.
The thing about journalism is....that lately I think of it more as an art than a craft.
The thing about journalism....is that the economic model that sustains it is collapsing with amazing speed.
The thing about journalism is….that the cyberspace version is very different from print—and in some ways deficient.
The thing about journalism is….that today people can create a media world—through TV, radio and the Internet—in which they never expose themselves to a single word that challenges their existing beliefs.
Barack Obama and John McCain....are engaged in the most important presidential election in 40 years: The winner will have to deal with the fact that America, after eight years of George W. Bush, is in decline.
I've always wanted to know....how neuroscientists and evolutionary biologists explain the internal monologues that run through our minds. Think of James Joyce's stream of consciousness. Wait, you mean you don't hear those voices?
If I ever wrote a memoir....it would be an act of extreme conceit. My life isn't that remarkable. Now, how I process my daily experiences in that internal monologue is another story. As a writer, I wish I could tap into that never-ending narrative.
Since leaving Isthmus in August he’s picked up gigs with Milwaukee Magazine and The Progressive, even landing the latter’s November cover story, an interview with Berkeley professor and “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” author Michael Pollan.
Here’s how Eisen describes his very successful career, which is still very much in the making:
“I spent 30 years at Isthmus over two tours of duty. I also worked at The Capital Times, The West Bend News and The Racine Labor paper, and had a cup of coffee at The Janesville Gazette."
Here’s a bit about his personal life:
“My youngest daughter Hannah is a senior at East High and my oldest daughter Lauren ls a senior at UW-Oshkosh. Both have been instructed to not go into journalism. I'm married to Connie Kinsella, who is an executive with the University Medical Foundation."
Marc’s not the kind of guy that spends too much time contemplating his own navel. He’s too busy reporting and writing about the issues and ideas of the day, which is why I decided to ask him some unconventional questions. You could say I took the easy way out … or you could say that I was smart enough to know I’d be too easily beaten at my own game.
Since I left Isthmus I....have consciously made an effort to be less of an idiot with technology and to go to the Y regularly. There is no connection between the two except that my IPod is really loaded these days.
It never works when....I violate my deeply held belief to always anticipate—and avoid—situations where nothing will work.
The thing about journalism is....that lately I think of it more as an art than a craft.
The thing about journalism....is that the economic model that sustains it is collapsing with amazing speed.
The thing about journalism is….that the cyberspace version is very different from print—and in some ways deficient.
The thing about journalism is….that today people can create a media world—through TV, radio and the Internet—in which they never expose themselves to a single word that challenges their existing beliefs.
Barack Obama and John McCain....are engaged in the most important presidential election in 40 years: The winner will have to deal with the fact that America, after eight years of George W. Bush, is in decline.
I've always wanted to know....how neuroscientists and evolutionary biologists explain the internal monologues that run through our minds. Think of James Joyce's stream of consciousness. Wait, you mean you don't hear those voices?
If I ever wrote a memoir....it would be an act of extreme conceit. My life isn't that remarkable. Now, how I process my daily experiences in that internal monologue is another story. As a writer, I wish I could tap into that never-ending narrative.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
