|


How
to Write Special Feature Articles
The Project Gutenberg EBook of How To Write Special Feature Articles
by Willard Grosvenor Bleyer
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: How To Write Special Feature Articles
A Handbook for Reporters, Correspondents and Free-Lance Writers Who
Desire to Contribute to Popular Magazines and Magazine
Sections of Newspapers
Author: Willard Grosvenor Bleyer
Release Date: April 26, 2005 [EBook #15718]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOW TO WRITE SPECIAL FEATURE ***
Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Charlene Taylor and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
HOW TO WRITE SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES
A HANDBOOK FOR REPORTERS, CORRESPONDENTS
AND FREE-LANCE WRITERS WHO DESIRE TO CONTRIBUTE TO POPULAR MAGAZINES AND
MAGAZINE SECTIONS OF NEWSPAPERS
BY
WILLARD GROSVENOR BLEYER, PH.D.
Author of "Newspaper Writing and
Editing," and "Types of News Writing"; Director of the Course in Journalism
in the University of Wisconsin
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CHICAGO, SAN FRANCISCO
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
PREFACE
This book is the result of twelve years' experience in
teaching university students to write special feature articles for
newspapers and popular magazines. By applying the methods outlined in the
following pages, young men and women have been able to prepare articles that
have been accepted by many newspaper and magazine editors. The success that
these students have achieved leads the author to believe that others who
desire to write special articles may be aided by the suggestions given in
this book.
Although innumerable books on short-story writing have
been published, no attempt has hitherto been made to discuss in detail the
writing of special feature articles. In the absence of any generally
accepted method of approach to the subject, it has been necessary to work
out a systematic classification of the various types of articles and of the
different kinds of titles, beginnings, and similar details, as well as to
supply names by which to identify them.
A careful analysis of current practice in the writing of
special feature stories and popular magazine articles is the basis of the
methods presented. In this analysis an effort has been made to show the
application of the principles of composition to the writing of articles.
Examples taken from representative newspapers and magazines are freely used
to illustrate the methods discussed. To encourage students to analyze
typical articles, the second part of the book is devoted to a collection of
newspaper and magazine articles of various types, with an outline for the
analysis of them.
Particular emphasis is placed on methods of popularizing
such knowledge as is not available to the general reader. This has been done
in the belief that it is important for the average person to know of the
progress that is being made in every field of human endeavor, in order that
he may, if possible, apply the results to his own affairs. The problem,
therefore, is to show aspiring writers how to present discoveries,
inventions, new methods, and every significant advance in knowledge, in an
accurate and attractive form.
To train students to write articles for newspapers and
popular magazines may, perhaps, be regarded by some college instructors in
composition as an undertaking scarcely worth their while. They would
doubtless prefer to encourage their students to write what is commonly
called "literature." The fact remains, nevertheless, that the average
undergraduate cannot write anything that approximates literature, whereas
experience has shown that many students can write acceptable popular
articles. Moreover, since the overwhelming majority of Americans read only
newspapers and magazines, it is by no means an unimportant task for our
universities to train writers to supply the steady demand for well-written
articles. The late Walter Hines Page, founder of the World's Work and
former editor of the Atlantic Monthly, presented the whole situation
effectively in an article on "The Writer and the University," when he wrote:
The journeymen writers write almost all that almost all
Americans read. This is a fact that we love to fool ourselves about. We
talk about "literature" and we talk about "hack writers," implying that
the reading that we do is of literature. The truth all the while is, we
read little else than the writing of the hacks—living hacks, that is, men
and women who write for pay. We may hug the notion that our life and
thought are not really affected by current literature, that we read the
living writers only for utilitarian reasons, and that our real
intellectual life is fed by the great dead writers. But hugging this
delusion does not change the fact that the intellectual life even of most
educated persons, and certainly of the mass of the population, is fed
chiefly by the writers of our own time....Every
editor of a magazine, every editor of an earnest and worthy newspaper,
every publisher of books, has dozens or hundreds of important tasks for
which he cannot find capable men; tasks that require scholarship,
knowledge of science, or of politics, or of industry, or of literature,
along with experience in writing accurately in the language of the people.
Special feature stories and popular magazine articles
constitute a type of writing particularly adapted to the ability of the
novice, who has developed some facility in writing, but who may not have
sufficient maturity or talent to undertake successful short-story writing or
other distinctly literary work. Most special articles cannot be regarded as
literature. Nevertheless, they afford the young writer an opportunity to
develop whatever ability he possesses. Such writing teaches him four things
that are invaluable to any one who aspires to do literary work. It trains
him to observe what is going on about him, to select what will interest the
average reader, to organize material effectively, and to present it
attractively. If this book helps the inexperienced writer, whether he is in
or out of college, to acquire these four essential qualifications for
success, it will have accomplished its purpose.
For permission to reprint complete articles, the author is
indebted to the editors of the Boston Herald, the Christian
Science Monitor, the Boston Evening Transcript, the New York
Evening Post, the Detroit News, the Milwaukee Journal, the
Kansas City Star, the New York Sun, the Providence Journal,
the Ohio State Journal, the New York World, the Saturday
Evening Post, the Independent, the Country Gentleman, the
Outlook, McClure's Magazine, Everybody's Magazine, the
Delineator, the Pictorial Review, Munsey's Magazine,
the American Magazine, System, Farm and Fireside, the
Woman's Home Companion, the Designer, and the Newspaper
Enterprise Association. The author is also under obligation to the many
newspapers and magazines from which excerpts, titles, and other material
have been quoted.
At every stage in the preparation of this book the author
has had the advantage of the coöperation and assistance of his wife, Alice
Haskell Bleyer.
University of Wisconsin
Madison, August, 1919
CONTENTS
HOW TO WRITE SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES
Origin of Special Articles. The rise
of popular magazines and of magazine sections of daily newspapers during the
last thirty years has resulted in a type of writing known as the "special
feature article." Such articles, presenting interesting and timely subjects
in popular form, are designed to attract a class of readers that were not
reached by the older literary periodicals. Editors of newspapers and
magazines a generation ago began to realize that there was no lack of
interest on the part of the general public in scientific discoveries and
inventions, in significant political and social movements, in important
persons and events. Magazine articles on these themes, however, had usually
been written by specialists who, as a rule, did not attempt to appeal to the
"man in the street," but were satisfied to reach a limited circle of
well-educated readers.
To create a larger magazine-reading public,
editors undertook to develop a popular form and style that would furnish
information as attractively as possible. The perennial appeal of fiction
gave them a suggestion for the popularization of facts. The methods of the
short story, of the drama, and even of the melodrama, applied to the
presentation of general information, provided a means for catching the
attention of the casual reader.
Daily newspapers had already discovered the
advantage of giving the day's news in a form that could be read rapidly with
the maximum degree of interest by the average man and woman. Certain
so-called sensational papers had gone a step further in these attempts to
give added attractiveness to news and had
emphasized its melodramatic aspects. Other papers had seen the value of the
"human interest" phases of the day's happenings. It was not surprising,
therefore, that Sunday editors of newspapers should undertake to apply to
special articles the same methods that had proved successful in the
treatment of news.
The product of these efforts at
popularization was the special feature article, with its story-like form,
its touches of description, its "human interest," its dramatic situations,
its character portrayal—all effectively used to furnish information and
entertainment for that rapid reader, the "average American."
Definition of a Special Article. A
special feature article may be defined as a detailed presentation of facts
in an interesting form adapted to rapid reading, for the purpose of
entertaining or informing the average person. It usually deals with (1)
recent news that is of sufficient importance to warrant elaboration; (2)
timely or seasonal topics not directly connected with news; or (3) subjects
of general interest that have no immediate connection with current events.
Although frequently concerned with news, the
special feature article is more than a mere news story. It aims to
supplement the bare facts of the news report by giving more detailed
information regarding the persons, places, and circumstances that appear in
the news columns. News must be published as fast as it develops, with only
enough explanatory material to make it intelligible. The special article,
written with the perspective afforded by an interval of a few days or weeks,
fills in the bare outlines of the hurried news sketch with the life and
color that make the picture complete.
The special feature article must not be
confused with the type of news story called the "feature," or "human
interest," story. The latter undertakes to present minor incidents of the
day's news in an entertaining form. Like the important news story, it is
published immediately after the incident
occurs. Its purpose is to appeal to newspaper readers by bringing out the
humorous and pathetic phases of events that have little real news value. It
exemplifies, therefore, merely one distinctive form of news report.
The special feature article differs from the
older type of magazine article, not so much in subject as in form and style.
The most marked difference lies in the fact that it supplements the
recognized methods of literary and scientific exposition with the more
striking devices of narrative, descriptive, and dramatic writing.
Scope of Feature Articles. The range
of subjects for special articles is as wide as human knowledge and
experience. Any theme is suitable that can be made interesting to a
considerable number of persons. A given topic may make either a local or a
general appeal. If interest in it is likely to be limited to persons in the
immediate vicinity of the place with which the subject is connected, the
article is best adapted to publication in a local newspaper. If the theme is
one that appeals to a larger public, the article is adapted to a periodical
of general circulation. Often local material has interest for persons in
many other communities, and hence is suitable either for newspapers or for
magazines.
Some subjects have a peculiar appeal to
persons engaged in a particular occupation or devoted to a particular
avocation or amusement. Special articles on these subjects of limited appeal
are adapted to agricultural, trade, or other class publications,
particularly to such of these periodicals as present their material in a
popular rather than a technical manner.
The Newspaper Field. Because of their
number and their local character, daily newspapers afford a ready medium for
the publication of special articles, or "special feature stories," as they
are generally called in newspaper offices. Some newspapers publish these
articles from day to day on the editorial page or in other parts of the
paper. Many more papers have magazine sections on Saturday or
Sunday made up largely of such "stories." Some
of these special sections closely resemble regular magazines in form, cover,
and general make-up.
The articles published in newspapers come
from three sources: (1) syndicates that furnish a number of newspapers in
different cities with special articles, illustrations, and other matter, for
simultaneous publication; (2) members of the newspaper's staff; that is,
reporters, correspondents, editors, or special writers employed for the
purpose; (3) so-called "free-lance" writers, professional or amateur, who
submit their "stories" to the editor of the magazine section.
Reporters, correspondents, and other regular
members of the staff may be assigned to write special feature stories, or
may prepare such stories on their own initiative for submission to the
editor of the magazine section. In many offices regular members of the staff
are paid for special feature stories in addition to their salaries,
especially when the subjects are not assigned to them and when the stories
are prepared in the writer's own leisure time. Other papers expect their
regular staff members to furnish the paper with whatever articles they may
write, as a part of the work covered by their salary. If a paper has one or
more special feature writers on its staff, it may pay them a fixed salary or
may employ them "on space"; that is, pay them at a fixed "space rate" for
the number of columns that an article fills when printed.
Newspaper correspondents, who are usually
paid at space rates for news stories, may add to their monthly "string," or
amount of space, by submitting special feature articles in addition to news.
They may also submit articles to other papers that do not compete with their
own paper. Ordinarily a newspaper expects a correspondent to give it the
opportunity of printing any special feature stories that he may write.
Free-lance writers, who are not regularly
employed by newspapers or magazines as staff members, submit articles for
the editor's consideration and are paid at space rates.
Sometimes a free lance will outline an article
in a letter or in personal conference with an editor in order to get his
approval before writing it, but, unless the editor knows the writer's work,
he is not likely to promise to accept the completed article. To the writer
there is an obvious advantage in knowing that the subject as he outlines it
is or is not an acceptable one. If an editor likes the work of a free lance,
he may suggest subjects for articles, or may even ask him to prepare an
article on a given subject. Freelance writers, by selling their work at
space rates, can often make more money than they would receive as regular
members of a newspaper staff.
For the amateur the newspaper offers an
excellent field. First, in every city of any size there is at least one
daily newspaper, and almost all these papers publish special feature
stories. Second, feature articles on local topics, the material for which is
right at the amateur's hand, are sought by most newspapers. Third, newspaper
editors are generally less critical of form and style than are magazine
editors. With some practice an inexperienced writer may acquire sufficient
skill to prepare an acceptable special feature story for publication in a
local paper, and even if he is paid little or nothing for it, he will gain
experience from seeing his work in print.
The space rate paid for feature articles is
usually proportionate to the size of the city in which the newspaper is
published. In small cities papers seldom pay more than $1 a column; in
larger places the rate is about $3 a column; in still larger ones, $5; and
in the largest, from $8 to $10. In general the column rate for special
feature stories is the same as that paid for news stories.
What Newspapers Want. Since
timeliness is the keynote of the newspaper, current topics, either growing
out of the news of the week or anticipating coming events, furnish the
subjects for most special feature stories. The news columns from day to day
provide room for only concise announcements of such news as a scientific
discovery, an invention, the death of an interesting person, a report
on social or industrial conditions, proposed
legislation, the razing of a landmark, or the dedication of a new building.
Such news often arouses the reader's curiosity to know more of the persons,
places, and circumstances mentioned. In an effort to satisfy this curiosity,
editors of magazine sections print special feature stories based on news.
By anticipating approaching events, an
editor is able to supply articles that are timely for a particular issue of
his paper. Two classes of subjects that he usually looks forward to in this
way are: first, those concerned with local, state, and national
anniversaries; and second, those growing out of seasonal occasions, such as
holidays, vacations, the opening of schools and colleges, moving days,
commencements, the opening of hunting and fishing seasons.
The general policy of a newspaper with
regard to special feature stories is the same as its policy concerning news.
Both are determined by the character of its circulation. A paper that is
read largely by business and professional men provides news and special
articles that satisfy such readers. A paper that aims to reach the so-called
masses naturally selects news and features that will appeal to them. If a
newspaper has a considerable circulation outside the city where it is
published, the editors, in framing their policy, cannot afford to overlook
their suburban and rural readers. The character of its readers, in a word,
determines the character of a paper's special feature stories.
The newspaper is primarily local in
character. A city, a state, or at most a comparatively small section of the
whole country, is its particular field. Besides the news of its locality, it
must, of course, give significant news of the world at large. So, too, in
addition to local feature articles, it should furnish special feature
stories of a broader scope. This distinctively local character of newspapers
differentiates them from magazines of national circulation in the matter of
acceptable subjects for special articles.
The frequency of publication of newspapers,
as well as their ephemeral character, leads, in many instances, to the
choice of comparatively trivial topics for some articles.
Merely to give readers entertaining matter with
which to occupy their leisure at the end of a day's work or on Sunday, some
papers print special feature stories on topics of little or no importance,
often written in a light vein. Articles with no more serious purpose than
that of helping readers to while away a few spare moments are obviously
better adapted to newspapers, which are read rapidly and immediately cast
aside, than to periodicals.
The sensationalism that characterizes the
policy of some newspapers affects alike their news columns and their
magazine sections. Gossip, scandal, and crime lend themselves to
melodramatic treatment as readily in special feature articles as in news
stories. On the other hand, the relatively few magazines that undertake to
attract readers by sensationalism, usually do so by means of short stories
and serials rather than by special articles.
All newspapers, in short, use special
feature stories on local topics, some papers print trivial ones, and others
"play up" sensational material; whereas practically no magazine publishes
articles of these types.
Sunday Magazine Sections. The
character and scope of special articles for the Sunday magazine section of
newspapers have been well summarized by two well-known editors of such
sections. Mr. John O'Hara Cosgrove, editor of the New York Sunday World
Magazine, and formerly editor of Everybody's Magazine, gives this
as his conception of the ideal Sunday magazine section:
The real function of the Sunday Magazine, to
my thinking, is to present the color and romance of the news, the most
authoritative opinions on the issues and events of the day, and to
chronicle promptly the developments of science as applied to daily life.
In the grind of human intercourse all manner of curious, heroic,
delightful things turn up, and for the most part, are dismissed in a
passing note. Behind every such episode are human beings and a story, and
these, if fairly and artfully explained, are the very stuff of romance.
Into every great city men are drifting daily from the strange and remote
places of the world where they have survived perilous hazards and seen
rare spectacles. Such adventures are the treasure troves of the skilful
reporter. The cross currents and
reactions that lead up to any explosion of greed or passion that we call
crime are often worth following, not only for their plots, but as proofs
of the pain and terror of transgression. Brave deeds or heroic resistances
are all too seldom presented in full length in the news, and generously
portrayed prove the nobility inherent in every-day life.
The broad domain of the Sunday magazine
editor covers all that may be rare and curious or novel in the arts and
sciences, in music and verse, in religion and the occult, on the stage and
in sport. Achievements and controversies are ever culminating in these
diverse fields, and the men and women actors therein make admirable
subjects for his pages. Provided the editor has at his disposal skilled
writers who have the fine arts of vivid and simple exposition and of the
brief personal sketch, there is nothing of human interest that may not be
presented.
The ideal Sunday magazine, as Mr.
Frederick Boyd Stevenson, Sunday editor of the Brooklyn Eagle, sees
it, he describes thus:
The new Sunday magazine of the newspaper
bids fair to be a crisp, sensible review and critique of the live world.
It has developed a special line of writers who have learned that a
character sketch and interview of a man makes you "see" the man face to
face and talk with him yourself. If he has done anything that gives him a
place in the news of to-day, he is presented to you. You know the man.
It seems to me that the leading feature of
the Sunday magazine should be the biggest topic that will be before the
public on the Sunday that the newspaper is printed. It should be written
by one who thoroughly knows his subject, who is forceful in style and
fluent in words, who can make a picture that his readers can see, and
seeing, realize. So every other feature of the Sunday magazine should have
points of human interest, either by contact with the news of the day or
with men and women who are doing something besides getting divorces and
creating scandals.
I firmly believe that the coming Sunday
magazine will contain articles of information without being dull or
encyclopædic, articles of adventure that are real and timely, articles of
scientific discoveries that are authentic, interviews with men and women
who have messages, and interpretations of news and analyses of every-day
themes, together with sketches, poems, and essays that are not tedious,
but have a reason for being printed.
The Magazine Field. The great
majority of magazines differ from all newspapers in one important
respect—extent of circulation. Popular magazines have a nation-wide
distribution. It is only among agricultural and trade journals that we find
a distinctly sectional circulation. Some of these publications serve
subscribers in only one state or section, and others issue separate state or
sectional editions. The best basis of differentiation among magazines, then,
is not the extent of circulation but the class of readers appealed to,
regardless of the part of the country in which the readers live. The popular
general magazine, monthly or weekly, aims to attract readers of all classes
in all parts of the United States.
How Magazines Get Material.
Magazine articles come from (1) regular members of the magazine's staff, (2)
professional or amateur free-lance writers, (3) specialists who write as an
avocation, and (4) readers of the periodical who send in material based on
their own experience.
The so-called "staff system" of magazine
editing, in accordance with which practically all the articles are prepared
by writers regularly employed by the publication, has been adopted by a few
general magazines and by a number of class periodicals. The staff is
recruited from writers and editors on newspapers and other magazines. Its
members often perform various editorial duties in addition to writing
articles. Publications edited in this way buy few if any articles from
outsiders.
Magazines that do not follow the staff
system depend largely or entirely on contributors. Every editor daily
receives many manuscripts submitted by writers on their own initiative. From
these he selects the material best adapted to his publication. Experienced
writers often submit an outline of an article to a magazine editor for his
approval before preparing the material for publication. Free-lance writers
of reputation may be asked by magazine editors to prepare articles on given
subjects.
In addition to material obtained in these
ways, articles may be secured from specialists who write as an avocation.
An editor generally decides on the
subject that he thinks will interest his readers at a given time and then
selects the authority best fitted to treat it in a popular way. To induce
well-known men to prepare such articles, an editor generally offers them
more than he normally pays.
A periodical may encourage its readers to
send in short articles giving their own experiences and explaining how to do
something in which they have become skilled. These personal experience
articles have a reality and "human interest" that make them eminently
readable. To obtain them magazines sometimes offer prizes for the best,
reserving the privilege of publishing acceptable articles that do not win an
award. Aspiring writers should take advantage of these prize contests as a
possible means of getting both publication and money for their work.
Opportunities for Unknown Writers.
The belief is common among novices that because they are unknown their work
is likely to receive little or no consideration from editors. As a matter of
fact, in the majority of newspaper and magazine offices all unsolicited
manuscripts are considered strictly on their merits. The unknown writer has
as good a chance as anybody of having his manuscript accepted, provided that
his work has merit comparable with that of more experienced writers.
With the exception of certain newspapers
that depend entirely on syndicates for their special features, and of a few
popular magazines that have the staff system or that desire only the work of
well-known writers, every publication welcomes special articles and short
stories by novices. Moreover, editors take pride in the fact that from time
to time they "discover" writers whose work later proves popular. They not
infrequently tell how they accepted a short story, an article, or some verse
by an author of whom they had never before heard, because they were
impressed with the quality of it, and how the verdict of their readers
confirmed their own judgment.
The relatively small number of amateurs
who undertake special articles, compared with the hundreds of thousands
who try their hand at short stories, makes
the opportunities for special feature writers all the greater. Then, too,
the number of professional writers of special articles is comparatively
small. This is particularly true of writers who are able effectively to
popularize scientific and technical material, as well as of those who can
present in popular form the results of social and economic investigations.
It is not too much to say, therefore, that
any writer who is willing (1) to study the interests and the needs of
newspaper and magazine readers, (2) to gather carefully the material for his
articles, and (3) to present it accurately and attractively, may be sure
that his work will receive the fullest consideration in almost every
newspaper and magazine office in the country, and will be accepted whenever
it is found to merit publication.
Women as Feature Writers. Since the
essential qualifications just enumerated are not limited to men, women are
quite as well fitted to write special feature and magazine articles as are
their brothers in the craft. In fact, woman's quicker sympathies and readier
emotional response to many phases of life give her a distinct advantage. Her
insight into the lives of others, and her intuitive understanding of them,
especially fit her to write good "human interest" articles. Both the
delicacy of touch and the chatty, personal tone that characterize the work
of many young women, are well suited to numerous topics.
In some fields, such as cooking, sewing,
teaching, the care of children, and household management, woman's greater
knowledge and understanding of conditions furnish her with topics that are
vital to other women and often not uninteresting to men. The entry of women
into occupations hitherto open only to men is bringing new experiences to
many women, and is furnishing women writers with additional fields from
which to draw subjects and material. Ever since the beginning of popular
magazines and of special feature writing for newspapers, women writers have
proved their ability, but at no time have the opportunities for them been
greater than at present.
Qualifications for Feature Writing.
To attain success as a writer of special feature articles a person must
possess at least four qualifications: (1) ability to find subjects that will
interest the average man and woman, and to see the picturesque, romantic,
and significant phases of these subjects; (2) a sympathetic understanding of
the lives and interests of the persons about whom and for whom he writes;
(3) thoroughness and accuracy in gathering material; (4) skill to portray
and to explain clearly, accurately, and attractively.
The much vaunted sense of news values
commonly called a "nose for news," whether innate or acquired, is a prime
requisite. Like the newspaper reporter, the writer of special articles must
be able to recognize what at a given moment will interest the average
reader. Like the reporter, also, he must know how much it will interest him.
An alert, responsive attitude of mind toward everything that is going on in
the world, and especially in that part of the world immediately around him,
will reveal a host of subjects. By reading newspapers, magazines, and books,
as well as by intercourse with persons of various classes, a writer keeps in
contact with what people are thinking and talking about, in the world at
large and in his own community. In this way he finds subjects and also
learns how to connect his subjects with events and movements of interest the
country over.
Not only should he be quick to recognize a
good subject; he must be able to see the attractive and significant aspects
of it. He must understand which of its phases touch most closely the life
and the interests of the average person for whom he is writing. He must look
at things from "the other fellow's" point of view. A sympathetic insight
into the lives of his readers is
necessary for every writer who hopes to quicken his subject with vital
interest.
The alert mental attitude that constantly
focuses the writer's attention on the men and women around him has been
called "human curiosity," which Arnold Bennett says "counts among the
highest social virtues (as indifference counts among the basest defects),
because it leads to the disclosure of the causes of character and
temperament and thereby to a better understanding of the springs of human
conduct." The importance of curiosity and of a keen sense of wonder has been
emphasized as follows by Mr. John M. Siddall, editor of the American
Magazine, who directed his advice to college students interested in the
opportunities afforded by writing as a profession:
Ability to investigate a subject
thoroughly, and to gather material accurately, is absolutely necessary for
any writer who aims to do acceptable work. Careless, inaccurate writers are
the bane of the magazine editor's life. Whenever mistakes appear in an
article, readers are sure to write to the editor calling his attention to
them. Moreover, the discovery of incorrect statements impairs the
confidence of readers in the magazine. If
there is reason to doubt the correctness of any data in an article, the
editor takes pains to check over the facts carefully before publication. He
is not inclined to accept work a second time from a writer who has once
proved unreliable.
To interpret correctly the essential
significance of data is as important as to record them accurately. Readers
want to know the meaning of facts and figures, and it is the writer's
mission to bring out this meaning. A sympathetic understanding of the
persons who figure in his article is essential, not only to portray them
accurately, but to give his story the necessary "human interest." To observe
accurately, to feel keenly, and to interpret sympathetically and correctly
whatever he undertakes to write about, should be a writer's constant aim.
Ability to write well enough to make the
average person see as clearly, feel as keenly, and understand as well as he
does himself the persons and things that he is portraying and explaining, is
obviously the sine qua non of success. Ease, fluency, and originality
of diction, either natural or acquired, the writer must possess if his work
is to have distinction.
Training for Feature Writing. The
ideal preparation for a writer of special articles would include a four-year
college course, at least a year's work as a newspaper reporter, and
practical experience in some other occupation or profession in which the
writer intends to specialize in his writing. Although not all persons who
desire to do special feature work will be able to prepare themselves in this
way, most of them can obtain some part of this preliminary training.
A college course, although not absolutely
essential for success, is generally recognized to be of great value as a
preparation for writing. College training aims to develop the student's
ability to observe accurately, to think logically, and to express his ideas
clearly and effectively—all of which is vital to good special feature
writing. In addition, such a course gives a student a knowledge of many
subjects that he will find useful for his
articles. A liberal education furnishes a background that is invaluable for
all kinds of literary work. Universities also offer excellent opportunities
for specialization. Intensive study in some one field of knowledge, such as
agriculture, banking and finance, home economics, public health, social
service, government and politics, or one of the physical sciences, makes it
possible for a writer to specialize in his articles. In choosing a
department in which to do special work in college, a student may be guided
by his own tastes and interests, or he may select some field in which there
is considerable demand for well trained writers. The man or woman with a
specialty has a superior equipment for writing.
With the development of courses in
journalism in many colleges and universities has come the opportunity to
obtain instruction and practice, not only in the writing of special feature
and magazine articles, but also in newspaper reporting, editing, and short
story writing. To write constantly under guidance and criticism, such as it
is impossible to secure in newspaper and magazine offices, will develop
whatever ability a student possesses.
Experience as a newspaper reporter
supplements college training in journalism and is the best substitute for
college work generally available to persons who cannot go to college. For
any one who aspires to write, reporting has several distinct advantages and
some dangers.
The requirement that news be printed at
the earliest possible moment teaches newspaper workers to collect facts and
opinions quickly and to write them up rapidly under pressure. Newspaper work
also develops a writer's appreciation of what constitutes news and what
determines news values; that is, it helps him to recognize at once, not only
what interests the average reader, but how much it interests him. Then, too,
in the course of his round of news gathering a reporter sees more of human
life under a variety of circumstances than do workers in any other
occupation. Such experience not only supplies him
with an abundance of material, but gives him
a better understanding and a more sympathetic appreciation of the life of
all classes.
To get the most out of his reporting, a
writer must guard against two dangers. One is the temptation to be satisfied
with superficial work hastily done. The necessity of writing rapidly under
pressure and of constantly handling similar material, encourages neglect of
the niceties of structure and of style. In the rush of rapid writing, the
importance of care in the choice of words and in the arrangement of phrases
and clauses is easily forgotten. Even though well-edited newspapers insist
on the highest possible degree of accuracy in presenting news, the
exigencies of newspaper publishing often make it impossible to verify facts
or to attain absolute accuracy. Consequently a reporter may drop into the
habit of being satisfied with less thorough methods of collecting and
presenting his material than are demanded by the higher standards of
magazine writing.
The second danger is that he may
unconsciously permit a more or less cynical attitude to replace the healthy,
optimistic outlook with which he began his work. With the seamy side of life
constantly before him, he may find that his faith in human nature is being
undermined. If, however, he loses his idealism, he cannot hope to give his
articles that sincerity, hopefulness, and constructive spirit demanded by
the average reader, who, on the whole, retains his belief that truth and
righteousness prevail.
Of the relation of newspaper reporting to
the writing of magazine articles and to magazine editing, Mr. Howard
Wheeler, editor of Everybody's Magazine, has said:
Practical experience in the field of his
specialty is of advantage in familiarizing a writer with the actual
conditions about which he is preparing himself to write. To engage for some
time in farming, railroading, household management, or any other occupation,
equips a person to write more intelligently about it. Such practical
experience either supplements college training in a special field, or serves
as the best substitute for such specialized education.
What Editors Want. All the
requirements for success in special feature writing may be reduced to the
trite dictum that editors want what they believe their readers want.
Although a commonplace, it expresses a point of view that aspiring writers
are apt to forget. From a purely commercial standpoint, editors are
middlemen who buy from producers what they believe they can sell to their
customers. Unless an editor satisfies his readers with his articles, they
will cease to buy his publication. If his literary wares are not what his
readers want, he finds on the newsstands unsold piles of his publication,
just as a grocer finds on his shelves faded packages of an unpopular
breakfast food. Both editor and grocer undertake to buy from the producers
what will have a ready sale and will satisfy their customers.
The writer, then, as the producer, must
furnish wares that will attract and satisfy the readers of the periodical to
which he desires to sell his product. It is the ultimate consumer, not
merely the editor, that he must keep in mind in selecting his material and
in writing his article. "Will the reader like this?" is the question that he
must ask himself at every stage of his work. Unless he can convince himself
that the average person who reads the periodical to which he proposes to
submit his article will like what he is writing, he cannot hope to sell it
to the editor.
Understanding the Reader. Instead
of thinking of readers as a more or less indefinite mass, the writer will
find it advantageous to picture to himself real persons who may be taken as
typical readers. It is very easy for an author to think that what interests
him and his immediate circle will appeal equally to people in general. To
write successfully, however, for the Sunday magazine of a newspaper, it is
necessary to keep in mind the butcher, the baker, and—if not the
candlestick-maker, at least the stenographer and the department store
clerk—as well as the doctor, lawyer, merchant, and chief. What is true of
the Sunday newspaper is true of the popular magazine.
The most successful publisher in this
country attributes the success of his periodical to the fact that he kept
before his mind's eye, as a type, a family of his acquaintance in a
Middle-Western town of fifteen hundred inhabitants, and shaped the policy of
his publication to meet the needs and interests of all its members. An
editor who desired to reach such a family would be immeasurably helped in
selecting his material by trying constantly to judge from their point of
view whatever passed through his hands. It is equally true that a writer
desiring to gain admittance to that magazine, or to others making the same
appeal, would greatly profit by visualizing as vividly as possible a similar
family. Every successful writer, consciously or unconsciously, thus pictures
his readers to himself.
If, for example, an author is preparing an
article for an agricultural journal, he must have in his mind's eye an
average farmer and this farmer's family. Not only must he see them in their
surroundings; he must try to see life from their point of view. The attitude
of the typical city man toward the farm and country life is very different
from that of the countryman. Lack of sympathy and insight is a fatal defect
in many an article intended by the writer for farm readers.
Whatever the publication to which an
author desires to contribute, he should consider first, last, and all the
time, its readers—their surroundings, their education, their income,
their ambitions, their amusements, their
prejudices—in short, he must see them as they really are.
The necessity of understanding the reader
and his point of view has been well brought out by Mr. John M. Siddall,
editor of the American Magazine, in the following excerpt from an
editorial in that periodical:
The man who refuses to use his imagination
to enable him to look at things from the other fellow's point of view
simply cannot exercise wide influence. He cannot reach people.
Underneath it, somehow, lies a great law,
the law of service. You can't expect to attract people unless you do
something for them. The business man who has something to sell must have
something useful to sell, and he must talk about it from the point of view
of the people to whom he wants to sell his goods. In the same way, the
journalist, the preacher, and the politician must look at things from the
point of view of those they would reach. They must feel the needs of
others and then reach out and meet those needs. They can never have a
large following unless they give something. The same law runs into the
human relation. How we abhor the man who talks only about himself—the man
who never inquires about our troubles, our problems; the man
who never puts himself in our place, but unimaginatively and
unsympathetically goes on and on, egotistically hammering away on the only
subject that interests him—namely himself.
Studying Newspapers and Magazines.
Since every successful publication may be assumed to be satisfying its
readers to a considerable degree, the best way to determine what kind of
readers it has, and what they are interested in, is to study the contents
carefully. No writer should send an article to a publication before he has
examined critically several of its latest issues. In fact, no writer should
prepare an article before deciding to just what periodical he wishes to
submit it. The more familiar he is with the periodical the better are his
chances of having his contribution accepted.
In analyzing a newspaper or magazine in
order to determine the type of reader to which it appeals, the writer should
consider the character of the subjects in its recent
issues, and the point of view from which
these subjects are presented. Every successful periodical has a distinct
individuality, which may be regarded as an expression of the editor's idea
of what his readers expect of his publication. To become a successful
contributor to a periodical, a writer must catch the spirit that pervades
its fiction and its editorials, as well as its special articles.
In his effort to determine the kind of
topics preferred by a given publication, a writer may at first glance decide
that timeliness is the one element that dominates their choice, but a closer
examination of the articles in one or more issues will reveal a more
specific basis of selection. Thus, one Sunday paper will be found to contain
articles on the latest political, sociological, and literary topics, while
another deals almost exclusively with society leaders, actors and actresses,
and other men and women whose recent experiences or adventures have brought
them into prominence.
It is of even greater value to find out by
careful reading of the entire contents of several numbers of a periodical,
the exact point of view from which the material is treated. Every editor
aims to present the contents of his publication in the way that will make
the strongest appeal to his readers. This point of view it is the writer's
business to discover and adopt.
Analysis of Special Articles. An
inexperienced writer who desires to submit special feature stories to
newspapers should begin by analyzing thoroughly the stories of this type in
the daily papers published in his own section of the country. Usually in the
Saturday or Sunday issues he will find typical articles on topics connected
with the city and with the state or states in which the paper circulates.
The advantage of beginning his study of newspaper stories with those
published in papers near his home lies in the fact that he is familiar with
the interests of the readers of these papers and can readily understand
their point of view. By noting the subjects, the point of view, the form,
the style, the length, and the illustrations, he will soon discover what
these papers want, or rather, what the readers
of these papers want. The "Outline for the
Analysis of Special Articles" in Part II will indicate the points to keep in
mind in studying these articles.
In order to get a broader knowledge of the
scope and character of special feature stories, a writer may well extend his
studies to the magazine sections of the leading papers of the country. From
the work of the most experienced and original of the feature writers, which
is generally to be found in these metropolitan papers, the novice will
derive no little inspiration as well as a valuable knowledge of technique.
The methods suggested for analyzing
special feature stories in newspapers are applicable also to the study of
magazine articles. Magazines afford a better opportunity than do newspapers
for an analysis of the different types of articles discussed in Chapter V.
Since magazine articles are usually signed, it is possible to seek out and
study the work of various successful authors in order to determine wherein
lies the effectiveness of their writing. Beginning with the popular weekly
and monthly magazines, a writer may well extend his study to those
periodicals that appeal to particular classes, such as women's magazines,
agricultural journals, and trade publications.
Ideals in Feature Writing. After
thoughtful analysis of special articles in all kinds of newspapers and
magazines, the young writer with a critical sense developed by reading
English literature may come to feel that much of the writing in periodicals
falls far short of the standards of excellence established by the best
authors. Because he finds that the average uncritical reader not only
accepts commonplace work but is apparently attracted by meretricious devices
in writing, he may conclude that high literary standards are not essential
to popular success. The temptation undoubtedly is great both for editors and
writers to supply articles that are no better than the average reader
demands, especially in such ephemeral publications as newspapers and popular
magazines. Nevertheless, the writer who yields to this temptation is sure to
produce only mediocre work. If he is
satisfied to write articles that will be characterized merely as
"acceptable," he will never attain distinction.
The special feature writer owes it both to
himself and to his readers to do the best work of which he is capable. It is
his privilege not only to inform and to entertain the public, but to create
better taste and a keener appreciation of good writing. That readers do not
demand better writing in their newspapers and magazines does not mean that
they are unappreciative of good work. Nor do originality and precision in
style necessarily "go over the heads" of the average person. Whenever
writers and editors give the public something no better than it is willing
to accept, they neglect a great opportunity to aid in the development of
better literary taste, particularly on the part of the public whose reading
is largely confined to newspapers and periodicals.
Because of the commericial value of
satisfying his readers, an editor occasionally assumes that he must give all
of them whatever some of them crave. "We are only giving the public what it
wants," is his excuse for printing fiction and articles that are obviously
demoralizing in their effect. A heterogeneous public inevitably includes a
considerable number of individuals who are attracted by a suggestive
treatment of morbid phases of life. To cater to the low desires of some
readers, on the ground of "giving the public what it wants," will always be
regarded by self-respecting editors and authors as indefensible.
The writer's opportunity to influence the
mental, moral, and æsthetic ideals of hundreds of thousands of readers is
much greater than he often realizes. When he considers the extent to which
most men and women are unconsciously guided in their ideas and aspirations
by what they read in newspapers and magazines, he cannot fail to appreciate
his responsibility. Grasping the full significance of his special feature
writing, he will no longer be content to write just well enough to sell his
product, but will determine to devote his effort to producing articles that
are the best of which he is capable.
Sources of Subjects. "What shall I
write about?" is the first question that inexperienced writers ask their
literary advisers. "If you haven't anything to write about, why write at
all?" might be an easy answer. Most persons, as a matter of fact, have
plenty to write about but do not realize it. Not lack of subjects, but
inability to recognize the possibilities of what lies at hand, is their real
difficulty.
The best method of finding subjects is to
look at every person, every event, every experience—in short, at
everything—with a view to seeing whether or not it has possibilities for a
special feature article. Even in the apparently prosaic round of everyday
life will be found a variety of themes. A circular letter from a business
firm announcing a new policy, a classified advertisement in a newspaper, the
complaint of a scrub-woman, a new variety of fruit in the grocer's window,
an increase in the price of laundry work, a hurried luncheon at a
cafeteria—any of the hundred and one daily experiences may suggest a "live"
topic for an article.
"Every foot of ground is five feet deep
with subjects; all you have to do is to scratch the surface for one,"
declared the editor of a popular magazine who is also a successful writer of
special articles. This statement may be taken as literally true. Within the
narrow confines of one's house and yard, for instance, are many topics. A
year's experience with the family budget, a home-made device, an attempt to
solve the servant problem, a method of making pin-money, a practical means
of economizing in household management, are forms of personal experience
that may be made interesting to newspaper and magazine readers. A garden on
a city lot, a poultry house in a back yard, a novel
form of garage, a new use for a gasoline
engine, a labor-saving device on the farm, may afford equally good topics.
One's own experience, always a rich field, may be supplemented by
experiences of neighbors and friends.
A second source of subjects is the daily
newspaper. Local news will give the writer clues that he can follow up by
visiting the places mentioned, interviewing the persons concerned, and
gathering other relevant material. When news comes from a distance, he can
write to the persons most likely to have the desired information. In neither
case can he be sure, until he has investigated, that an item of news will
prove to contain sufficient available material for an article. Many pieces
of news, however, are worth running down carefully, for the day's events are
rich in possibilities.
Pieces of news as diverse as the following
may suggest excellent subjects for special articles: the death of an
interesting person, the sale of a building that has historic associations,
the meeting of an uncommon group or organization, the approach of the
anniversary of an event, the election or appointment of a person to a
position, an unusual occupation, an odd accident, an auction, a proposed
municipal improvement, the arrival of a well-known person, an official
report, a legal decision, an epidemic, the arrest of a noted criminal, the
passing of an old custom, the publication of the city directory, a railroad
accident, a marked change in fashion in dress.
A third source of both subjects and
material is the report of special studies in some field, the form of the
report ranging from a paper read at a meeting to a treatise in several
volumes. These reports of experiments, surveys, investigations, and other
forms of research, are to be found in printed bulletins, monographs,
proceedings of organizations, scientific periodicals, and new books.
Government publications—federal, state, and local—giving results of
investigative work done by bureaus, commissions, and committees, are public
documents that may usually be had free of charge. Technical and scientific
periodicals and printed proceedings of
important organizations are generally available at public libraries.
As Mr. Waldemar Kaempffert, editor of
Popular Science Monthly, has said:
"If you want to publish something where it
will never be read," a wit has observed, "print it in an official document."
Government reports are filled with valuable information that remains quite
unknown to the average reader unless newspapers and magazines unearth it and
present it in popular form. The popularization of the contents of all kinds
of scientific and technical publications affords great opportunities for the
writer who can present such subjects effectively.
In addressing students of journalism on
"Science and Journalism," Dr. Edwin E. Slosson, literary editor of the
Independent, who was formerly a professor of chemistry, has said:
The most radical ideas of our day are not
apt to be found in the popular newspaper or in queer little
insurrectionary, heretical and propaganda sheets that we occasionally see,
but in the technical journals and proceedings of learned societies. The
real revolutions are hatched in the laboratory and study. The papers read
before the annual meetings of the scientific societies, and for the most
part unnoticed by the press, contain more dynamite than was ever
discovered in any anarchist's shop. Political revolutions merely change
the form of government or the name of the party in power. Scientific
revolutions really turn the world over, and it never settles back into its
former position.
The beauty and meaning of scientific
discoveries can be revealed to the general reader if there is an
intermediary who can understand equally the language of the laboratory and
of the street. The modern journalist knows that anything can be made
interesting to anybody, if he takes pains enough with the writing of it.
It is not necessary, either, to pervert scientific truths in
the process of translation into the
vernacular. The facts are sensational enough without any picturesque
exaggeration.
The field is not an unprofitable one
even in the mercenary sense. To higher motives the task of popularizing
science makes a still stronger appeal. Ignorance is the source of most of
our ills. Ignorant we must always be of much that we need to know, but
there is no excuse for remaining ignorant of what somebody on earth knows
or has known. Rich treasure lies hidden in what President Gilman called
"the bibliothecal cairn" of scientific monographs which piles up about a
university. The journalist might well exchange the muckrake for the pick
and dig it out.
Nothing could accelerate human progress
more than to reduce the time between the discovery of a new truth and its
application to the needs of mankind.... It is regarded as a great
journalistic achievement when the time of transmission of a cablegram is
shortened. But how much more important it is to gain a few years in
learning what the men who are in advance of their age are doing than to
gain a few seconds in learning what the people of Europe are doing? This
lag in intellectual progress ... is something which it is the especial
duty of the journalist to remove. He likes to score a beat of a few hours.
Very well, if he will turn his attention to science, he can often score a
beat of ten years.
The three main sources, therefore, of
subjects and material for special feature and magazine articles are (1)
personal observation and experience, (2) newspapers, (3) scientific and
technical publications and official reports.
Personal Observation. How a writer
may discover subjects for newspaper feature articles in the course of his
daily routine by being alive to the possibilities around him can best be
shown by concrete examples.
A "community sing" in a public park gave a
woman writer a good subject for a special article published in the
Philadelphia North American.
In the publication of a city directory was
found a timely subject for an article on the task of getting out the annual
directory in a large city; the story was printed in a Sunday issue of the
Boston Herald.
A glimpse of some children dressed like
Arctic explorers in an outdoor school in
Kansas City was evidently the origin of a special feature story on that
institution, which was published in the Kansas City Star.
A woman standing guard one evening over a
partially completed school building in Seattle suggested a special feature
in the Seattle Post Intelligencer on the unusual occupation of night
"watchman" for a woman.
While making a purchase in a drug store, a
writer overheard a clerk make a request for a deposit from a woman who
desired to have a prescription filled, an incident which led him to write a
special feature for the New York Times on this method of discouraging
persons from adding to the drug store's "morgue" of unclaimed prescriptions.
From a visit to the Children's Museum in
Brooklyn was developed a feature article for the New York Herald, and
from a story-telling hour at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts was evolved a
feature story for the Boston Herald on the telling of stories as a
means of interesting children in pictures.
Magazine articles also may originate in
the writer's observation of what is going on about him. The specific
instances given below, like those already mentioned, will indicate to the
inexperienced writer where to look for inspiration.
A newspaper reporter who covered the
criminal courts compiled the various methods of burglars and sneak thieves
in gaining entrance to houses and apartments, as he heard them related in
trials, and wrote a helpful article for Good Housekeeping on how to
protect one's house against robbery.
The exhibition of a novel type of rack for
curing seed corn gave a writer a subject for an article on this "corn tree,"
which was published in the Illustrated World.
During a short stop at a farm while on an
automobile trip, a woman writer noticed a concrete storage cellar for
vegetables, and from an interview with the farmer obtained enough material
for an article, which she sold to a farm journal.
While a woman writer was making a purchase
in a plumber's shop, the plumber was called to the telephone. On returning
to his customer, he remarked that the call was from a woman on a farm five
miles from town, who could easily have made the slight repairs herself if
she had known a little about the water-supply system on her farm. From the
material which the writer obtained from the plumber, she wrote an article
for an agricultural paper on how plumber's bills can be avoided.
A display of canned goods in a grocer's
window, with special prices for dozen and case lots, suggested an article,
afterwards published in the Merchants Trade Journal, on this grocer's
method of fighting mail-order competition.
Personal Experience. What we
actually do ourselves, as well as what we see others do, may be turned to
good use in writing articles. Personal experiences not only afford good
subjects and plenty of material but are more easily handled than most other
subjects, because, being very real and vital to the writer, they can the
more readily be made real and vital to the reader. Many inexperienced
writers overlook the possibilities of what they themselves have done and are
doing.
To gain experience and impressions for
their articles, special writers on newspapers even assume temporarily the
roles of persons whose lives and experiences they desire to portray. One
Chicago paper featured every Sunday for many weeks articles by a reporter
who, in order to get material, did a variety of things just for one day,
from playing in a strolling street band to impersonating a convict in the
state penitentiary. Thirty years ago, when women first entered the newspaper
field as special feature writers, they were sometimes sent out on "freak"
assignments for special features, such as feigning injury or insanity in
order to gain entrance to hospitals in the guise of patients. Recently one
woman writer posed as an applicant for a position as moving-picture actress;
another applied for a place as housemaid; a third donned overalls and
sorted scrap-iron all day in the yard of a
factory; and still another accompanied a store detective on his rounds in
order to discover the methods of shop-lifting with which department stores
have to contend.
It is not necessary, however, to go so far
afield to obtain personal experiences, as is shown by the following
newspaper and magazine articles based on what the writers found in the
course of their everyday pursuits.
The results obtained from cultivating a
quarter-acre lot in the residence district of a city of 100,000 population
were told by a writer in the Country Gentleman.
A woman's experience with bees was related
in Good Housekeeping under the title, "What I Did with Bees."
Experience in screening a large porch on
his house furnished a writer with the necessary information for a practical
story in Popular Mechanics.
Some tests that he made on the power of
automobiles gave a young engineer the suggestion for an article on the term
"horse power" as applied to motor-cars; the article was published in the
Illustrated World.
"Building a Business on Confidence" was
the title of a personal experience article published in System.
The evils of tenant farming, as
illustrated by the experiences of a farmer's wife in moving during the very
early spring, were vividly depicted in an article in Farm and Fireside.
The diary of an automobile trip from
Chicago to Buffalo was embodied in an article by a woman writer, which she
sold to the Woman's Home Companion.
Both usual and unusual means employed to
earn their college expenses have served as subjects for many special
articles written by undergraduates and graduates.
Innumerable articles of the
"how-to-do-something" type are accepted every year from inexperienced
writers by publications that print such useful information. Results of
experiments in solving various problems of household management are so
constantly in demand by women's magazines and women's departments in
newspapers, that housewives who like to
write find a ready market for articles based on their own experience.
Confession Articles. One particular
type of personal experience article that enjoys great popularity is the
so-called "confession story." Told in the first person, often anonymously, a
well-written confession article is one of the most effective forms in which
to present facts and experiences.
Personal experiences of others, as well as
the writer's own, may be given in confession form if the writer is able to
secure sufficiently detailed information from some one else to make the
story probable.
A few examples will illustrate the kind of
subjects that have been presented successfully in the confession form.
Some criticisms of a typical college and
of college life were given anonymously in the Outlook under the
title, "The Confessions of an Undergraduate."
"The Story of a Summer Hotel Waitress,"
published in the Independent, and characterized by the editor as "a
frank exposure of real life below stairs in the average summer hotel," told
how a student in a normal school tried to earn her school expenses by
serving as a waitress during the summer vacation.
In Farm and Fireside was published
"The Confession of a Timber Buyer," an article exposing the methods employed
by some unscrupulous lumber companies in buying timber from farmers.
"How I Cured Myself of Being Too
Sensitive," with the sub-title, "The Autobiography of a Young Business Man
Who Nearly Went to Smash through Jealousy," was the subject of a confession
article in the American Magazine.
An exposure of the impositions practiced
by an itinerant quack was made in a series of three confession articles, in
Sunday issues of the Kansas City Star, written by a young man whom
the doctor had employed to drive him through the country districts.
To secure confession features from
readers, magazines have offered prizes for the best short articles on such
topics as, "The Best Thing Experience has
Taught Me," "How I Overcame My Greatest Fault," "The Day of My Great
Temptation," "What Will Power Did for Me."
Subjects from the Day's News. In
his search for subjects a writer will find numberless clues in newspapers.
Since the first information concerning all new things is usually given to
the world through the columns of the daily press, these columns are scanned
carefully by writers in search of suggestions. Any part of the paper, from
the "want ads" to the death notices or the real estate transfers, may be the
starting point of a special article. The diversity of topics suggested by
newspapers is shown by the following examples.
The death of a well-known clown in New
York was followed by a special feature story about him in the Sunday
magazine section of a Chicago paper.
A newspaper report of the discovery in
Wisconsin of a method of eliminating printing ink from pulp made from old
newspapers, so that white print paper might be produced from it, led a young
writer to send for information to the discoverer of the process, and with
these additional details he wrote an article that was published in the
Boston Transcript.
A news story about a clever swindler in
Boston, who obtained possession of negotiable securities by means of a
forged certified check, was made the basis of a special feature story in the
Providence Journal on the precautions to be taken against losses from
forged checks.
News of the energetic manner in which a
New Jersey sheriff handled a strike suggested a personality sketch of him
that appeared in the American Magazine.
The publication, in a newspaper, of some
results of a survey of rural school conditions in a Middle Western state,
led to two articles on why the little red schoolhouse fails, one of which
was published in the Country Gentleman, and the other in the
Independent.
From a brief news item about the success
of a farmer's widow and her daughter, in taking summer boarders in
their old farmhouse, was developed a
practical article telling how to secure and provide for these boarders on
the ordinary farm. The article appeared in Farm and Fireside.
Official Documents. Bulletins and reports
of government officials are a mine for both subjects and material. For new
developments in agriculture one may consult the bulletins of the United
States Department of Agriculture and those of state agricultural experiment
stations. Reports on new and better methods of preparing food, and other
phases of home economics, are also printed in these bulletins. State
industrial commissions publish reports that furnish valuable material on
industrial accidents, working-men's insurance, sanitary conditions in
factories, and the health of workers. Child welfare is treated in reports of
federal, state, and city child-welfare boards. The reports of the Interstate
Commerce Commission, like those of state railroad commissions, contain
interesting material on various phases of transportation. State and federal
census reports often furnish good subjects and material. In short, nearly
every official report of any kind may be a fruitful source of ideas for
special articles.
The few examples given below suggest
various possibilities for the use of these sources.
Investigations made by a commission of
American medical experts constituting the Committee on Resuscitation from
Mine Gases, under the direction of the U.S. Bureau of Mines, supplied a
writer in the Boston Transcript with material for a special feature
story on the dangers involved in the use of the pulmotor.
A practical bulletin, prepared by the home
economics department of a state university, on the best arrangement of a
kitchen to save needless steps, was used for articles in a number of farm
journals.
From a bulletin of the U.S. Department of
Agriculture a writer prepared an article on "the most successful farmer in
the United States" and what he did with twenty acres, for the department of
"Interesting People" in the American Magazine.
The results of a municipal survey of
Springfield, Illinois, as set forth in official reports, were the basis of
an article in the Outlook on "What is a Survey?" Reports of a similar
survey at Lawrence, Kansas, were used for a special feature story in the
Kansas City Star.
"Are You a Good or a Poor Penman?" was the
title of an article in Popular Science Monthly based on a chart
prepared by the Russell Sage Foundation in connection with some of its
educational investigations.
The New York Evening Post published
an interesting special article on the "life tables" that had been prepared
by the division of vital statistics of the Bureau of the Census, to show the
expectation of life at all ages in the six states from which vital
statistics were obtained.
A special feature story on how Panama hats
are woven, as printed in the Ohio State Journal, was based entirely
on a report of the United States consul general at Guayaquil, Ecuador.
Scientific and Technical Publications.
Almost every science and every art has its own special periodicals, from
which can be gleaned a large number of subjects and much valuable material
that needs only to be popularized to be made attractive to the average
reader. The printed proceedings of scientific and technical societies,
including the papers read at their meetings, as well as monographs and
books, are also valuable. How such publications may be utilized is
illustrated by the articles given below.
The report of a special committee of an
association of electrical engineers, given at its convention in
Philadelphia, furnished a writer with material for an article on "Farming by
Electricity," that was published in the Sunday edition of the Springfield
Republican.
Studies of the cause of hunger, made by
Prof. A.J. Carlson of the University of Chicago and published in a volume
entitled "The Control of Hunger in Health and Disease," furnished the
subject for an article in the Illustrated World. Earlier results of
the same investigation were given in the Sunday magazine of one of the
Chicago papers.
From the Journal of Heredity was
gleaned material for an article entitled "What Chance Has the Poor Child?"
It was printed in Every Week.
"Golfer's Foot, One of Our Newest
Diseases," was the subject of a special feature in the New York Times,
that was based on an article in the Medical Record.
That the canals on Mars may be only an
optical illusion was demonstrated in an article in the Sunday magazine of
the New York Times, by means of material obtained from a report of
the section for the Observation of Mars, a division of the British
Astronomical Association.
Anticipating Timely Subjects. By looking
forward for weeks or even months, as editors of Sunday newspapers and of
magazines are constantly doing, a writer can select subjects and gather
material for articles that will be particularly appropriate at a given time.
Holidays, seasonal events, and anniversaries may thus be anticipated, and
special articles may be sent to editors some time in advance of the occasion
that makes them timely. Not infrequently it is desirable to begin collecting
material a year before the intended time of publication.
An article on fire prevention, for
instance, is appropriate for the month of October just before the day set
aside for calling attention to fires caused by carelessness. Months in
advance, a writer might begin collecting news stories of dangerous fires
resulting from carelessness; and from the annual report of the state fire
marshal issued in July, he could secure statistics on the causes of fires
and the extent of the losses.
To secure material for an article on the
Christmas presents that children might make at a cost of twenty-five cents
or less, a woman writer jotted down after one Christmas all the information
that she could get from her friends; and from these notes she wrote the
article early in the following summer. It was published in the November
number of a magazine, at a time when children were beginning to think about
making Christmas presents.
Articles on ways and means of earning
college expenses are particularly
appropriate for publication in the summer or early fall, when young men and
women are preparing to go to college, but if in such an article a student
writer intends to describe experiences other than his own, he may well begin
gathering material from his fellow students some months before.
Anniversaries of various events, such as
important discoveries and inventions, the death or birth of a personage, and
significant historical occasions, may also be anticipated. The fiftieth
anniversary of the arrival of the first railroad train in Kansas City was
commemorated in a special feature story in the Kansas City Star,
published the day before the anniversary. The day following the fifty-sixth
anniversary of the discovery of petroleum in Pennsylvania, the New York
Times printed in its Sunday magazine section a special article on the
man who first found oil there. The centenary of the launching of the first
steam-propelled ship to cross the Atlantic, was commemorated by an article
in the Sunday edition of the Providence Journal. Munsey's Magazine
printed an article on the semi-centennial of the discovery of the process of
making paper from wood pulp.
By looking over tables giving dates of
significant events, writers will find what anniversaries are approaching; or
they may glean such information from news stories describing preparations
made for celebrating these anniversaries.
Keeping Lists of Subjects. Every
writer who is on the lookout for subjects and sources of material should
keep a notebook constantly at hand. Subjects suggested by everyday
experiences, by newspaper and magazine reading, and by a careful study of
special articles in all kinds of publications, are likely to be forgotten
unless they are recorded at once. A small notebook that can be carried in
the pocket or in a woman's hand-bag is most convenient. Besides topics for
articles, the titles of books, reports, bulletins, and other publications
mentioned in conversation or in newspapers, should be jotted down as
possible sources of material. Facts and
figures from publications may be copied for future use. Good titles and
interesting methods of treatment that a writer observes in the work of
others may prove helpful in suggesting titles and methods for his own
articles. Separate sections of even a small notebook may conveniently be set
aside for all of these various points.
Filing Material. The writer who
makes methodical preparation for his work generally has some system of
filing good material so that it will be at hand when he wants it. One
excellent filing device that is both inexpensive and capable of indefinite
expansion consists of a number of stout manilla envelopes, large enough to
hold newspaper clippings, printed reports, magazine articles, and
photographs. In each envelope is kept the material pertaining to one subject
in which the writer is interested, the character of the subject-matter being
indicated on one side of the envelope, so that, as the envelopes stand on
end, their contents can readily be determined. If a writer has many of these
envelopes, a one-drawer filing case will serve to keep them in good order.
By constantly gathering material from newspapers, magazines, and printed
reports, he will soon find that he has collected a considerable amount of
information on which to base his articles.
Analyzing the Subject. When from
many available subjects a writer is about to choose one, he should pause to
consider its possibilities before beginning to write. It is not enough to
say, "This is a good subject; I believe that I can write an article on it."
He needs to look at the topic from every angle. He ought to ask himself,
"How widespread is the interest in my subject? How much will it appeal to
the average individual? What phases of it are likely to have the greatest
interest for the greatest number of persons?" To answer these questions he
must review the basic sources of pleasure and satisfaction.
What Interests Readers. To interest
readers is obviously the prime object in all popular writing. The basis of
interest in the news story, the special feature article, and the short story
is essentially the same. Whatever the average person likes to hear and see,
whatever gives him pleasure and satisfaction, is what he wants to read
about. In order to test all phases of a given subject from this point of
view, a writer needs to keep in mind the fundamental sources of
satisfaction.
Subjects and phases of subjects that
attract readers may, for convenience, be divided into the following classes,
which, however, are not mutually exclusive: (1) timely topics, (2) unique,
novel, and extraordinary persons, things, and events, (3) mysteries, (4)
romance, (5) adventure, (6) contests for supremacy, (7) children, (8)
animals, (9) hobbies and amusements, (10) familiar persons, places, and
objects, (11) prominent persons, places, and objects, (12) matters involving
the life, property, and welfare of others, (13) matters that affect the
reader's own success and well-being.
Timeliness. Though not absolutely
essential, timeliness is a valuable
attribute of any subject. Readers like to feel that they are getting the
latest facts and the newest ideas, in special feature articles as well as in
the news. A subject need not be discarded, however, because it does not make
a timely appeal. It may have interest in other respects sufficiently great
to compensate for its lack of timeliness.
Many topics that at first glance seem
quite unrelated to current activities are found on closer examination to
have some aspects that may be brought into connection with timely interests.
To a writer keenly alive to everything that is going on in the world, most
subjects will be found to have some bearing on what is uppermost in men's
minds. Emphasis on that point of contact with current ideas will give to the
article the desired timeliness.
Novelty. When a person, object, or
circumstance is unique, it arouses an unusual degree of interest. The first
person to accomplish something out of the ordinary, the first event of its
kind, the first of anything, arrests attention.
Closely associated with the unique is the
extraordinary, the curious. If not absolutely the only one of its kind, a
thing may still be sufficiently unusual to excite an uncommon degree of
interest. Novelty has a perennial charm. Careful study of a subject is often
necessary to reveal the novel and extraordinary phase of it that can best be
emphasized.
Mysteries. The fascination for the
human mind of whatever baffles it is so well known that it scarcely needs
elaboration. Mysteries, whether real or fictitious, pique curiosity. Even
the scholar and the practical man of affairs find relaxation in the mystery
of the detective story. Real life often furnishes events sufficiently
mysterious to make a special feature story that rivals fiction. Unexplained
crimes and accidents; strange psychical phenomena, such as ghosts,
presentiments, spiritism, and telepathy; baffling problems of the scientist
and the inventor—all have elements of mystery that fascinate the average
reader.
Romance. The romance of real life
is quite as interesting as that of fiction. As all the world loves a lover,
almost all the world loves a love story. The course of true love may run
smooth or it may not; in either case there is the romantic appeal. To find
the romantic element in a topic is to discover a perennial source of
attraction for all classes of readers.
Adventure. Few in number are the
persons who will not gladly escape from humdrum routine by losing themselves
in an exciting tale of adventure. The thrilling exploits in real life of the
engineer, the explorer, the soldier of fortune, the pioneer in any field,
hold us spellbound. Even more commonplace experiences are not without an
element of the adventurous, for life itself is a great adventure. Many
special feature stories in narrative form have much the same interest that
is created by the fictitious tale of adventure.
Contests for Supremacy. Man has
never lost his primitive love of a good fight. Civilization may change the
form of the contest, but fighting to win, whether in love or politics,
business or sport, still has a strong hold on all of us. Strikes, attempted
monopolies, political revolutions, elections, championship games, diplomacy,
poverty, are but a few of the struggles that give zest to life. To portray
dramatically in a special article the clash and conflict in everyday affairs
is to make a well-nigh universal appeal.
Children. Because we live in and
for our children, everything that concerns them comes close to our hearts. A
child in a photo-drama or in a news story is sure to win sympathy and
admiration. The special feature writer cannot afford to neglect so vital a
source of interest. Practical articles on the care and the education of
children also have especial value for women readers.
Animals. Wild or tame, at large or
in captivity, animals attract us either for their almost human intelligence
or for their distinctively animal traits. There are few persons who do not
like horses, dogs, cats, and other pets, and fewer still who can pass by the
animal cages at the circus or the "zoo."
Hunting, trapping, and fishing are vocations for some men, and sport for
many more. The business of breeding horses and cattle, and the care of live
stock and poultry on the farm, must not be overlooked in the search for
subjects. The technical aspects of these topics will interest readers of
farm journals; the more popular phases of them make a wide general appeal.
Hobbies and Amusements. Pastimes
and avocations may be counted good subjects. Moving pictures, theaters,
music, baseball, golf, automobiles, amateur photography, and a host of
hobbies and recreations have enough enthusiastic devotees to insure wide
reading for special feature stories about them.
The Familiar. Persons whom we know,
places that we constantly see, experiences that we have had again and again,
often seem commonplace enough, even when familiarity has not bred contempt;
but when they appear unexpectedly on the stage or in print, we greet them
with the cordiality bestowed on the proverbial long-lost friend. Local news
interests readers because it concerns people and places immediately around
them. Every newspaper man understands the desirability of increasing the
attractiveness of a news event that happens elsewhere by rinding "local
ends," or by giving it "a local turn." For special feature stories in
newspapers, local phases are no less important. But whether the article is
to be published in a newspaper or a magazine, familiar persons and things
should be "played up" prominently.
The Prominent. Many persons,
places, and objects that we have never seen are frequently as real to us as
are those that we see daily. This is because their names and their pictures
have greeted us again and again in print. It is thus that prominent men and
women become familiar to us. Because of their importance we like to read
about them. If a special feature article in any of its phases concerns what
is prominent, greater attractiveness can be given to it by "playing up" this
point, be it the President of the United States or a well-known circus
clown, Fifth Avenue or the Bowery, the
Capitol at Washington or Coney Island, the Twentieth Century Limited or a
Ford.
Life and Welfare of Others.
Sympathy with our fellow beings and an instinctive recognition of our common
humanity are inherent in most men and women. Nowhere is this more strikingly
shown than in the quick and generous response that comes in answer to every
call for aid for those in distress. So, too, we like to know how others feel
and think. We like to get behind the veil with which every one attempts to
conceal his innermost thoughts and feelings. Our interest in the lives and
the welfare of others finds expression in various ways, ranging from social
service and self-sacrificing devotion to gossip and secret confidences.
These extremes and all that lies between them abound in that "human
interest" upon which all editors insist.
This widespread interest in others affords
to the writer of special articles one of his greatest opportunities, not
only for preparing interesting stories, but for arousing readers to support
many a good cause. To create sympathy for the unfortunate, to encourage
active social service, to point the way to political reform, to show the
advantages of better industrial conditions, to explain better business
methods—all these are but a few of the helpful, constructive appeals that he
may make effectively.
He may create this interest and stir his
readers to action by either one of two methods: by exposing existing evils,
or by showing what has been done to improve bad conditions. The exposure of
evils in politics, business, and society constituted the "muck-raking" to
which several of the popular monthly magazines owe their rise. This
crusading, "searchlight" type of journalism has been largely superseded by
the constructive, "sunlight" type. To explain how reforms have been
accomplished, or are being brought about, is construed by the best of the
present-day journals to be their special mission.
Personal Success and Happiness.
Every one is vitally concerned about his own prosperity and happiness. To
make a success of life, no matter by what
criterion we may measure that success, is our one all-powerful motive.
Happiness, as the goal that we hope to reach by our success, and health, as
a prime requisite for its attainment, are also of great importance to every
one of us. How to make or save more money, how to do our work more easily,
how to maintain our physical well-being, how to improve ourselves mentally
and morally, how to enjoy life more fully—that is what we all want to know.
To the writer who will show us how to be "healthy, wealthy, and wise," we
will give our undivided attention.
Business and professional interests
naturally occupy the larger part of men's thoughts, while home-making is the
chief work of most women. Although women are entering many fields hitherto
monopolized by men, the home remains woman's peculiar sphere. The purchase
and preparation of food, the buying and making of clothing, the management
of servants, the care of children—these are the vital concerns of most
women. They realize, however, that conditions outside the home have a direct
bearing on home-making; and each year they are taking a more active part in
civic affairs. Matters of public health, pure food legislation, the milk and
the water supply, the garbage collection, the character of places of
amusement, the public schools, determine, in no small degree, the success
and happiness of the home-maker.
Since the dominant interests of men and
women alike are their business and their home, the special writer should
undertake to connect his subject as closely as possible with these
interests. To show, for example, how the tariff, taxes, public utility
rates, price-fixing, legislation, and similar matters affect the business
and home affairs of the average reader, is to give to these political and
economic problems an interest for both men and women far in excess of that
resulting from a more general treatment of them. The surest way to get the
reader's attention is to bring the subject home to him personally.
Of the importance of presenting a subject
in such a manner that the reader is led
to see its application to himself and his own affairs, Mr. John M. Siddall,
editor of the American Magazine, has said:
Combining Appeals. When the
analysis of a topic shows that it possesses more than one of these appeals,
the writer may heighten the attractiveness of his story by developing
several of the possibilities, simultaneously or successively. The chance
discovery by a prominent physician of a simple preventive of infantile
paralysis, for instance, would combine at least four of the elements of
interest enumerated above. If such a combination of appeals can be made at
the very beginning of the article, it is sure to command attention.
Definiteness of Purpose. In view of
the multiplicity of possible appeals, a writer may be misled into
undertaking to do too many diverse things in a single article. A subject
often has so many different aspects of great interest that it is difficult
to resist the temptation to use all of them. If a writer yields to this
temptation, the result may be a diffuse, aimless article that, however
interesting in many details, fails to make a definite impression.
To avoid this danger, the writer must
decide just what his purpose is to be. He must ask himself, "What is my aim
in writing this article?" and, "What do I expect to accomplish?" Only in
this way will he clarify in his mind his reason for writing on the proposed
topic and the object to be attained.
With a definitely formulated aim before
him, he can decide just what material he needs. An objective point to be
reached will give his article direction and will help him to stick to his
subject. Furthermore, by getting his aim clearly in mind, he will have the
means of determining, when the story is completed, whether or not he has
accomplished what he set out to do.
In selecting material, in developing the
article, and in testing the completed product, therefore, it is important to
have a definitely formulated purpose.
Three General Aims. Every special
article should accomplish one of three general aims: it should (1)
entertain, or (2) inform, or (3) give practical guidance.
The same subject and the same material may
sometimes be so treated as to accomplish any one of these three purposes. If
the writer's aim is merely to help readers pass a leisure hour pleasantly,
he will "play up" those aspects of a topic that will afford entertainment
and little or nothing else. If he desires to supply information that will
add to the reader's stock of knowledge, he will present his facts in a
manner calculated to make his readers remember what he has told them. If he
proposes to give information that can be applied by readers to their own
activities, he must include those details that are necessary to any one who
desires to make practical use of the information.
When, for example, a writer is about to
prepare an article, based on experience, about keeping bees on a small
suburban place, he will find that he may write his story in any one of three
ways. The difficulties experienced by the amateur bee-keeper in trying to
handle bees in a small garden could be treated humorously with no other
purpose ihan to amuse. Or the keeping of bees under such
circumstances might be described as an
interesting example of enterprise on the part of a city man living in the
suburbs. Or, in order to show other men and women similarly situated just
how to keep bees, the writer might explain exactly what any person would
need to know to attain success in such a venture. Just as the purpose of
these articles would vary, so the material and the point of view would
differ.
Entertaining Articles. To furnish
wholesome entertainment is a perfectly legitimate end in special feature
writing. There is no reason why the humor, the pathos, the romance, the
adventure, and mystery in life should not be presented in special feature
stories for our entertainment and amusement, just as they are presented for
the same purpose in the short story, the drama, and the photo-play. Many
readers find special feature stories with real persons, real places, and
real circumstances, more entertaining than fiction. A writer with the
ability to see the comedies and the tragedies in the events constantly
happening about him, or frequently reported in the press, will never lack
for subjects and material.
Wholesome Entertainment. The effect
of entertaining stories on the ideas and ideals of readers ought not to be
overlooked. According to the best journalistic standards, nothing should be
printed that will exert a demoralizing or unwholesome influence.
Constructive journalism goes a step further when it insists that everything
shall tend to be helpful and constructive. This practice applies alike to
news stories and to special articles.
These standards do not necessarily exclude
news and special feature stories that deal with crime, scandal, and similar
topics; but they do demand that the treatment of such subjects shall not be
suggestive or offensive. To portray violators of the criminal or moral codes
as heroes worthy of emulation; to gratify some readers' taste for the
morbid; to satisfy other readers by exploiting sex—all are alike foreign to
the purpose of respectable journalism. No self-respecting writer will lend
the aid of his pen to such work, and no
self-respecting editor will publish it.
To deter persons from committing similar
crimes and follies should be the only purpose in writing on such topics. The
thoughtful writer, therefore, must guard against the temptation to surround
wrong-doers with the glamour of heroic or romantic adventure, and, by
sentimental treatment, to create sympathy for the undeserving culprit.
Violations of law and of the conventions of society ought to be shown to be
wrong, even when the wrong-doer is deserving of some sympathy. This need not
be done by moralizing and editorializing. A much better way is to emphasize,
as the results of wrong-doing, not only legal punishment and social
ostracism, but the pangs of a guilty conscience, and the disgrace to the
culprit and his family.
A cynical or flippant treatment of serious
subjects gives many readers a false and distorted view of life. Humor does
not depend on ridicule or satire. The fads and foibles of humanity can be
good-naturedly exposed in humorous articles that have no sting. Although
many topics may very properly be treated lightly, others demand a serious,
dignified style.
The men and women whom a writer puts into
his articles are not puppets, but real persons, with feelings not unlike his
own. To drag them and their personal affairs from the privacy to which they
are entitled, and to give them undesired and needless publicity, for the
sake of affording entertainment to others, often subjects them to great
humiliation and suffering. The fact that a man, woman, or child has figured
in the day's news does not necessarily mean that a writer is entitled to
exploit such a person's private affairs. He must discriminate between what
the public is entitled to know and what an individual has a right to keep
private. Innocent wives, sweethearts, or children are not necessarily
legitimate material for his article because their husband, lover, or father
has appeared in the news. The golden rule is the best guide for a
writer in such cases. Lack of consideration
for the rights of others is the mark neither of a good writer nor of a true
gentleman. Clean, wholesome special feature stories that present interesting
phases of life accurately, and that show due consideration for the rights of
the persons portrayed, are quite as entertaining as are any others.
Informative Articles. Since many
persons confine their reading largely to newspapers and magazines, they
derive most of their information and ideas from these sources. Even persons
who read new books rely to some extent on special articles for the latest
information about current topics. Although most readers look to periodicals
primarily for new, timely facts, they are also interested to find there
biographical and historical material that is not directly connected with
current events. Every special feature writer has a great opportunity to
furnish a large circle of readers with interesting and significant
information.
In analyzing subjects it is necessary to
discriminate between significant and trivial facts. Some topics when studied
will be found to contain little of real consequence, even though a readable
article might be developed from the material. Other themes will reveal
aspects that are both trivial and significant. When a writer undertakes to
choose between the two, he should ask himself, "Are the facts worth
remembering?" and, "Will they furnish food for thought?" In clarifying his
purpose by such tests, he will decide not only what kind of information he
desires to impart, but what material he must select, and from what point of
view he should present it.
Articles of Practical Guidance. The
third general purpose that a writer may have is to give his readers
sufficiently explicit information to enable them to do for themselves what
has been done by others. Because all persons want to know how to be more
successful, they read these "how-to-do-something" articles with avidity. All
of us welcome practical suggestions, tactfully given, that can be applied to
our own activities. Whatever any one has done successfully may be so
presented that others can learn how to do
it with equal success. Special feature articles furnish the best means of
giving this practical guidance.
In preparing a "how-to-do-something"
article, a writer needs to consider the class of readers for which it is
intended. A special feature story, for example, on how to reduce the cost of
milk might be presented from any one of three points of view: that of the
producer, that of the distributor, or that of the consumer. To be practical
for dairy farmers, as producers of milk, the article would have to point out
possible economies in keeping cows and handling milk on the farm. To be
helpful to milk-dealers, as distributors, it would concern itself with
methods of lowering the cost of selling and delivering milk in the city. To
assist housewives, as consumers, the article would have to show how to
economize in using milk in the home. An informative article for the general
reader might take up all these phases of the subject, but an article
intended to give practical guidance should consider the needs of only one of
these three classes of persons.
In many constructive articles of practical
guidance, the writer's purpose is so successfully concealed that it may at
first escape the notice of the average reader. By relating in detail, for
example, how an actual enterprise was carried out, a writer may be able to
give his readers, without their realizing it, all the information they need
to accomplish a similar undertaking. When he analyzes such articles, the
student should not be misled into thinking that the writer did not have the
definite purpose of imparting practical information. If the same material
can be developed into an article of interesting information or into one of
practical guidance, it is desirable to do the latter and, if necessary, to
disguise the purpose.
Statement of Purpose. In order to
define his purpose clearly and to keep it constantly before him, a writer
will do well to put down on paper his exact aim in a single sentence. If,
for example, he desired to write a constructive article about an
Americanization pageant held in his home city on the Fourth of July, he
might write out the statement of his aim
thus: "I desire to show how the Americanization of aliens may be encouraged
in small industrial centers of from 3000 to 20,000 inhabitants, by
describing how the last Fourth of July Americanization pageant was organized
and carried out in a typical Pennsylvania industrial town of 5000."
Such a statement will assist a writer in
selecting his material, in sticking to his subject, and in keeping to one
point of view. Without this clearly formulated aim before him, it is easy
for him to dwell too long on some phase of the subject in which he is
particularly interested or on which he has the most material, to the neglect
of other phases that are essential to the accomplishment of his purpose. Or,
failing to get his aim clearly in mind, he may jump from one aspect of the
subject to another, without accomplishing anything in particular. Many a
newspaper and magazine article leaves a confused, hazy impression on the
minds of readers because the writer failed to have a definite objective.
Methods of Treatment. After
choosing a subject and formulating his purpose, a writer is ready to
consider methods of treatment. Again it is desirable to survey all the
possibilities in order to choose the one method best adapted to his subject
and his purpose. His chief consideration should be the class of readers that
he desires to reach. Some topics, he will find, may be treated with about
equal success in any one of several ways, while others lend themselves to
only one or two forms of presentation. By thinking through the various
possible ways of working out his subject, he will be able to decide which
meets his needs most satisfactorily.
Exposition by Narration and Description.
The commonest method of developing a special feature article is that which
combines narration and description with exposition. The reason for this
combination is not far to seek. The average person is not attracted by pure
exposition. He is attracted by fiction. Hence the narrative and descriptive
devices of fiction are employed advantageously to supplement expository
methods. Narratives and descriptions also have the advantage of being
concrete and vivid. The rapid reader can grasp a concrete story or a word
picture. He cannot so readily comprehend a more general explanation
unaccompanied by specific examples and graphic pictures of persons, places,
and objects.
Narration and description are used
effectively for the concrete examples and the specific instances by which we
illustrate general ideas. The best way, for example, to make clear the
operation of a state system of health insurance is to relate how it has
operated in the case of one or more persons affected. In explaining a new
piece of machinery the writer may well describe it in operation, to
enable readers to visualize it and follow its
motions. Since the reader's interest will be roused the more quickly if he
is given tangible, concrete details that he can grasp, the examples are
usually put first, to be followed by the more general explanation. Sometimes
several examples are given before the explanatory matter is offered. Whole
articles are often made up of specific examples and generalizations
presented alternately.
To explain the effects of a new anæsthetic,
for example, Mr. Burton J. Hendrick in an article in McClure's Magazine,
pictured the scene in the operating-room of a hospital where it was being
given to a patient, showed just how it was administered, and presented the
results as a spectator saw them. The beginning of the article on stovaine,
the new anæsthetic, illustrating this method of exposition, follows:
A few months ago, a small six-year-old boy
was wheeled into the operating theater at the Hospital for Ruptured and
Crippled Children, in New York City. He was one of the several thousand
children of the tenements who annually find their way into this great
philanthropic institution, suffering from what, to the lay mind, seems a
hopelessly incurable injury or malformation. This particular patient had a
crippled and paralyzed leg, and to restore its usefulness, it was
necessary to cut deeply into the heel, stretch the "Achilles tendon," and
make other changes which, without the usual anesthetic, would involve
excruciating suffering. According to the attendant nurses, the child
belonged to the "noisy" class; that is, he was extremely sensitive to
pain, screamed at the approach of the surgeon, and could be examined only
when forcibly held down.As the child
came into the operating-room he presented an extremely pathetic
figure—small, naked, thin, with a closely cropped head of black hair, and
a face pinched and blanched with fear. Surrounded by a fair-sized army of
big, muscular surgeons and white-clothed nurses, and a gallery filled with
a hundred or more of the leading medical men of the metropolis, he
certainly seemed a helpless speck of humanity with all the unknown forces
of science and modern life arrayed against him. Under ordinary conditions
he would have been etherized in an adjoining chamber and brought into the
operating-room entirely unconscious. This
cripple, however, had been selected as a
favorable subject for an interesting experiment in modern surgery, for he
was to undergo an extremely torturous operation in a state of full
consciousness.
Among the assembled surgeons was a
large-framed, black moustached and black-haired, quick-moving, gypsy-like
Rumanian—Professor Thomas Jonnesco, dean of the Medical Department of the
University of Bucharest, and one of the leading men of his profession in
Europe. Dr. Jonnesco, who had landed in New York only two days before, had
come to the United States with a definite scientific purpose. This was to
show American surgeons that the most difficult operations could be
performed without pain, without loss of consciousness, and without the use
of the familiar anesthetics, ether or chloroform. Dr. Jonnesco's
reputation in itself assured him the fullest opportunity of demonstrating
his method in New York, and this six-year-old boy had been selected as an
excellent test subject.
Under the gentle assurances of the
nurses that "no one was going to hurt" him, the boy assumed a sitting
posture on the operating-table, with his feet dangling over the edge.
Then, at the request of Dr. Jonnesco, he bent his head forward until it
almost touched his breast. This threw the child's back into the desired
position—that of the typical bicycle "scorcher,"—making each particular
vertebra stand out sharply under the tight drawn skin. Dr. Jonnesco
quickly ran his finger along the protuberances, and finally selected the
space between the twelfth dorsal and the first lumbar vertebræ—in other
words, the space just above the small of the back. He then took an
ordinary hypodermic needle, and slowly pushed it through the skin and
tissues until it entered the small opening between the lower and upper
vertebræ, not stopping until it reached the open space just this side of
the spinal cord.
As the needle pierced the flesh, the
little patient gave a sharp cry—the only sign of discomfiture displayed
during the entire operation. When the hollow needle reached its
destination, a few drops of a colorless liquid spurted out—the famous
cerebro-spinal fluid, the substance which, like a water-jacket, envelops
the brain and the spinal cord. Into this same place Dr. Jonnesco now
introduced an ordinary surgical syringe, which he had previously filled
with a pale yellowish liquid—the much-famed stovaine,—and slowly emptied
its contents into the region that immediately surrounds the spinal cord.
For a few minutes the child retained his
sitting posture as if nothing
extraordinary had happened. Dr. Jonnesco patted him on the back and said a
few pleasant words in French, while the nurses and assistants chatted
amiably in English.
"How do you feel now?" the attending
surgeon asked, after the lapse of three or four minutes.
"All right," replied the boy animatedly,
"'cept that my legs feel like they was going to sleep."
The nurses now laid the patient down
upon his back, throwing a handkerchief over his eyes, so that he could not
himself witness the subsequent proceedings. There was, naturally, much
holding of breath as Dr. Virgil P. Gibney, the operating surgeon, raised
his knife and quickly made a deep incision in the heel of this perfectly
conscious patient. From the child, however, there was not the slightest
evidence of sensation.
"Didn't you feel anything, my boy?"
asked Dr. Gibney, pausing.
"No, I don't feel nothin'," came the
response from under the handkerchief.
An operation lasting nearly half an hour
ensued. The deepest tissues were cut, the tendons were stretched, the
incision was sewed up, all apparently without the patient's knowledge.
Some types of articles, although
expository in purpose, are entirely narrative and descriptive in form. By
relating his own experiences in a confession story, for example, a writer
may be able to show very clearly and interestingly the dangers of
speculations in stocks with but small capital. Personality sketches are
almost always narrative and descriptive.
Many of the devices of the short story
will be found useful in articles. Not only is truth stranger than fiction,
but facts may be so presented as to be even more interesting than fiction.
Conversation, character-drawing, suspense, and other methods familiar to the
writer of short stories may be used effectively in special articles. Their
application to particular types of articles is shown in the following pages.
Special Types of Articles. Although
there is no generally recognized classification of special feature articles,
several distinct types may be noted, such as (1) the interview,
(2) the personal experience story, (3) the
confession article, (4) the "how-to-do-something" article, (5) the
personality sketch, (6) the narrative in the third person. These classes, it
is evident, are not mutually exclusive, but may for convenience be treated
separately.
The Interview. Since the material
for many articles is obtained by means of an interview, it is often
convenient to put the major part, if not the whole, of the story in
interview form. Such an article may consist entirely of direct quotation
with a limited amount of explanatory material concerning the person
interviewed; or it may be made up partly of direct quotation and partly of
indirect quotation, combined with the necessary explanation. For greater
variety it is advisable to alternate direct and indirect quotations. A
description of the person interviewed and of his surroundings, by way of
introduction, gives the reader a distinct impression of the individual under
characteristic conditions. Or some striking utterance of his may be "played
up" at the beginning, to be followed by a picture of him and his
surroundings. Interviews on the same topic with two or more persons may be
combined in a single article.
The interview has several obvious
advantages. First, the spoken word, quoted verbatim, gives life to
the story. The person interviewed seems to be talking to each reader
individually. The description of him in his surroundings helps the reader to
see him as he talks. Second, events, explanations, and opinions given in the
words of one who speaks with authority, have greater weight than do the
assertions of an unknown writer. Third, the interview is equally effective
whether the writer's purpose is to inform, to entertain, or to furnish
practical guidance. Romance and adventure, humor and pathos, may well be
handled in interview form. Discoveries, inventions, new processes, unusual
methods, new projects, and marked success of any kind may be explained to
advantage in the words of those responsible for these undertakings.
In obtaining material for an interview
story, a writer should bear in mind a number of points regarding
interviewing in general. First, in
advance of meeting the person to be interviewed, he should plan the series
of questions by which he hopes to elicit the desired information. "What
would my readers ask this person if they had a chance to talk to him about
this subject?" he must ask himself. That is, his questions should be those
that readers would like to have answered. Since it is the answers, however,
and not the questions, that will interest readers, the questions in the
completed article should be subordinated as much as possible. Sometimes they
may be skillfully embodied in the replies; again they may be implied merely,
or entirely omitted. In studying an interview article, one can generally
infer what questions the interviewer used. Second, he must cultivate his
memory so that he can recall a person's exact words without taking notes.
Most men talk more freely and easily when they are not reminded of the fact
that what they are saying is to be printed. In interviewing, therefore, it
is desirable to keep pencil and paper out of sight. Third, immediately after
leaving the person whom he has interviewed, the writer should jot down
facts, figures, striking statements, and anything else that he might forget.
Examples of the Interview Article.
As a timely special feature story for Arbor Day, a Washington correspondent
used the following interview with an expert as a means of giving readers
practical advice on tree-planting:
ARBOR DAY ADVICE
WASHINGTON, April 1.—Three spadefuls of
rich, pulverized earth will do more to make a young tree grow than a
30-minute Arbor day address by the president of the school board and a
patriotic anthem by the senior class, according to Dr. Furman L. Mulford,
tree expert for the department of agriculture.
Not that Dr. Mulford would abbreviate
the ceremonies attendant upon Arbor day planting, but he thinks that they
do not mean much unless the roots planted receive proper and constant
care. For what the Fourth of July is to the war and navy departments, and
what Labor day is to the department of labor, Arbor day is to the
department of agriculture.
While the forestry bureau has concerned
itself primarily with trees from the standpoint of the timber supply, Dr.
Mulford has been making a study of trees best adapted for streets and
cities generally. And nobody is more interested than he in what Arbor day
signifies or how trees should be chosen and reared.
"We need trees most where our population
is the thickest, and some trees, like some people, are not adapted to such
a life," said Dr. Mulford. "For street or school yard planting one of the
first considerations is a hardy tree, that can find nourishment under
brick pavements or granite sidewalks. It must be one that branches high
from the ground and ought to be native to the country and climate. America
has the prettiest native trees and shrubs in the world and it is true
patriotism to recognize them.
"For Southern states one of the
prettiest and best of shade trees is the laurel oak, and there will be
thousands of them planted this spring. It is almost an evergreen and is a
quick growing tree. The willow oak is another.
"A little farther north the red oak is
one of the most desirable, and in many places the swamp maple grows well,
though this latter tree does not thrive well in crowded cities.
"Nothing, however, is prettier than the
American elm when it reaches the majesty of its maturity and I do not
believe it will ever cease to be a favorite. One thing against it, though,
is the 'elm beetle,' a pest which is spreading and which will kill some of
our most beautiful trees unless spraying is consistently practised. China
berry trees, abundant in the South, and box elders, native to a score of
states, are quick growing, but they reach maturity too soon and begin to
go to pieces."
"What is the reason that so many Arbor
day trees die?" Dr. Mulford was asked.
"Usually lack of protection, and often
lack of care in planting," was the answer. "When the new tree begins to
put out tender rootlets a child brushing against it or 'inspecting' it too
closely will break them off and it dies. Or stock will nip off the new
leaves and shoots and the result is the same. A frame around the tree
would prevent this.
"Then, often wild trees are too big when
transplanted. Such trees have usually only a few long roots and so much of
these are lost in transplanting that the large trunk cannot be nourished
by the remainder. With nursery trees the larger they are the better it is,
for they have a lot of small roots that do not have to be cut off.
"Fruit
trees are seldom so successful as shade trees, either along a street or
road or in a yard. In the first place their branches are too low and
unless carefully pruned their shape is irregular. Then they are subject to
so many pests that unless constant care is given them they will not bear a
hatful of fruit a season.
"On the other hand, nut trees are
usually hardy and add much to the landscape. Pecan, chestnut, walnut and
shaggy bark hickory are some of the more popular varieties."
The first Arbor day was observed in
Nebraska, which has fewer natural trees than any other state. This was in
1872, and Kansas was the second to observe the day, falling into line in
1875. Incidentally Kansas ranks next to Nebraska in dearth of trees.
The Arbor day idea originated with J.
Sterling Morton, a Nebraskan who was appointed secretary of agriculture by
Cleveland. Now every state in the Union recognizes the day and New York,
Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin and others
have gotten out extensive Arbor day booklets giving information concerning
trees and birds; most of them even contain appropriate songs and poems for
Arbor day programs.
How an interview combined with a
description of a person may serve to create sympathy for her and for the
cause that she represents is shown in the following article, which was
published anonymously in the Sunday magazine section of the Ohio State
Journal. It was illustrated with two half-tone portraits, one of the
young woman in Indian costume, the other showing her in street dress.
Just Like Pocahontas of 300 Years Ago
"Oh, East is East and West is West, And
never the two shall meet."
BUT they may send messengers. Hark to
the words of "One-who-does-things-well."
"I carry a message from my people to the
Government at Washington," says Princess Galilolie, youngest daughter of
John Ross, hereditary King of the "Forest Indians," the Cherokees of
Oklahoma. "We have been a nation without hope. The land that was promised
us by solemn treaty, 'so long as the grass should grow and the waters
run,' has been taken from us. It was
barren and wild when we received it seventy years ago. Now it is rich with
oil and cultivation, and the whites coveted our possessions. Since it was
thrown open to settlers no Cherokee holds sovereign rights as before, when
it was his nation. We are outnumbered. I have come as a voice from my
people to speak to the people of the Eastern States and to those at
Washington—most of all, if I am permitted to do so, to lay our wrongs
before the President's wife, in whose veins glows the blood of the
Indian."
Only nineteen is this Indian
princess—this twentieth century Pocahontas—who travels far to the seats of
the mighty for her race.
She is a tall, slim, stately girl from
the foothills of the Ozarks, from Tahlequah, former capital of the
Cherokee Nation. She says she is proud of every drop of Indian blood that
flows in her veins. But her skin is fair as old ivory and she is a college
girl—a girl of the times to her finger-tips.
"When an Indian goes through college and
returns to his or her people," she says with a smile, "they say, 'Back to
the blanket!' We have few blankets among the Cherokees in Tahlequah. I am
the youngest of nine children, and we are all of us college graduates, as
my father was before us."
He is John Ross 3d, Chief of the
Cherokee Nation, of mingled Scotch and Indian blood, in descent from "Cooweeskowee,"
John Ross I., the rugged old Indian King who held out against Andrew
Jackson back in 1838 for the ancient rights of the Five Nations to their
lands along the Southern Atlantic States.
She sat back on the broad window seat in
the sunlight. Beyond the window lay a bird's-eye view of New York
housetops, the white man's permanent tepee. Some spring birds alighted on
a nearby telephone wire, sending out twittering mating cries to each
other.
"They make me want to go home," she said
with a swift, expressive gesture. "But I will stay until the answer comes
to us. Do you know what they have called me, the old men and women who are
wise—the full-bloods? Galilolie—'One-who-does-things-well.' With us, when
a name is given it is one with a meaning, something the child must grow to
in fulfillment. So I feel I must not fail them now."
"You see," she went on, lifting her
chin, "it is we young half-bloods who must carry the strength and honor of
our people to the world so it may understand us. All our lives we have
been told tales by the old men—how our
people were driven from their homes by the Government, how Gen. Winfield
Scott's soldiers came down into our quiet villages and ordered the Indians
to go forth leaving everything behind them. My great-grandfather, the old
King Cooweeskowee, with his wife and children, paused at the first hilltop
to look back at his home, and already the whites were moving into it. The
house is still standing at Rossville, Ga. Do you know what the old people
tell us children when we wish we could go back there?" Her eyes are half
closed, her lips compressed as she says slowly, thrillingly: "They tell us
it is easy to find the way over that 'Trail of Tears,' that through the
wilderness it is blazed with the gravestones of those who were too weak to
march.
"That was seventy years ago, in 1838.
The Government promised to pay amply for all it took from us, our homes
and lands, cattle—even furniture. A treaty was made solemnly between the
Indians and the United States that Oklahoma should be theirs 'as long as
the grass should grow and the waters run.'
"That meant perpetuity to us, don't you
see?" She makes her points with a directness and simplicity that should
disarm even the diplomatic suavity of Uncle Sam when he meets her in
Washington. "Year after year the Cherokees waited for the Government to
pay. And at last, three years ago, it came to us—$133.19 to each Indian,
seventy-eight years after the removal from Georgia had taken place.
"Oil was discovered after the Indians
had taken the wilderness lands in Oklahoma and reclaimed them. It was as
if God, in reparation for the wrongs inflicted by whites, had given us the
riches of the earth. My people grew rich from their wells, but a way was
found to bind their wealth so they could not use it. It was said the
Indians were not fit to handle their own money."
She lifts eyebrows and shoulders, her
hands clasped before her tightly, as if in silent resentment of their
impotence to help.
"These are the things I want to tell;
first our wrongs and then our colonization plan, for which we hope so much
if the Government will grant it. We are outnumbered since the land was
opened up and a mass of 'sooners,' as we call them—squatters, claimers,
settlers—swarmed in over our borders. The Government again offered to pay
us for the land they took back—the land that was to be ours in perpetuity
'while the grass grew and the waters ran.' We were told to file our claims
with the whites. Some of us did, but eight hundred of the full-bloods went
back forty miles into the foothills
under the leadership of Red Bird Smith. They refuse to sell or to accept
the Government money for their valuable oil lands. To appease justice, the
Government allotted them lands anyway, in their absence, and paid the
money for their old property into the banks, where it lies untouched. Red
Bird and his 'Night Hawks' refuse to barter over a broken treaty.
"Ah, but I have gone up alone to the old
men there." Her voice softens. "They will talk to me because I am my
father's daughter. My Indian name means 'One-who-does-things-well.' So if
I go to them they tell me their heart longings, what they ask for the
Cherokee.
"And I shall put the message, if I can,
before our President's wife. Perhaps she will help."
The Personal Experience Article. A
writer's own experiences, given under his name, under a pseudonym, or in
anonymous form, can easily be made interesting to others. Told in the first
person, such stories are realistic and convincing. The pronoun "I" liberally
sprinkled through the story, as it must be, gives to it a personal, intimate
character that most readers like. Conversation and description of persons,
places, and objects may be included to advantage in these personal
narratives.
The possibilities of the personal
experience story are as great as are those of the interview. Besides serving
as a vehicle for the writer's own experiences, it may be employed to give
experiences of others. If, for example, a person interviewed objects to
having his name used, it is possible to present the material obtained by the
interview in the form of a personal experience story. In that case the
article would have to be published without the writer's name, since the
personal experiences that it records are not his own. Permission to present
material in a personal experience story should always be obtained from the
individual whose experiences the writer intends to use.
Articles designed to give practical
guidance, to show readers how to do something, are particularly effective
when written in the first person. If these "how-to-do-something" articles
are to be most useful to readers, the
conditions under which the personal experience was obtained must be fairly
typical. Personal experience articles of this type are very popular in
women's magazines, agricultural journals, and publications that appeal to
business men.
Examples of the Personal Experience
Story. The opportunities for service offered to women by small daily
newspapers are set forth in the story below, by means of the personal
experiences of one woman. The article was published in the Woman's Home
Companion, and was illustrated by a half-tone reproduction of a wash
drawing of a young woman seated at her desk in a newspaper office.
"They Call Me the 'Hen Editor'"
The Story of a Small-Town Newspaper
Woman
By SADIE L. MOSSLER
"What do you stay buried in this burg
for? Why, look how you drudge! and what do you get out of it? New York or
some other big city is the place for you. There's where you can become
famous instead of being a newspaper woman in a one-horse town."
A big city newspaper man was talking. He
was in our town on an assignment, and he was idling away spare time in our
office. Before I could answer, the door opened and a small girl came to my
desk.
"Say," she said, "Mama told me to come
in here and thank you for that piece you put in the paper about us. You
ought to see the eatin's folks has brought us! Heaps an' heaps! And Ma's
got a job scrubbin' three stores."
The story to which she referred was one
that I had written about a family left fatherless, a mother and three
small children in real poverty. I had written a plain appeal to the home
people, with the usual results.
"That," I said, "is one reason that I am
staying here. Maybe it isn't fame in big letters signed to an article, but
it's another kind."
His face wore a queer expression; but
before he could retort another caller appeared, a well-dressed woman.
"What do you mean," she declared, "by
putting it in the paper that I served light refreshments at my party?"
"Wasn't
it so?" I meekly inquired.
"No!" she thundered. "I served ice
cream, cake and coffee, and that makes two courses. See that it is right
next time, or we'll stop the paper."
Here my visitor laughed. "I suppose
that's another reason for your staying here. When we write anything about
a person we don't have to see them again and hear about it."
"But," I replied, "that's the very
reason I cling to the small town. I want to see the people about whom I am
writing, and live with them. That's what brings the rewards in our
business. It's the personal side that makes it worth while, the real
living of a newspaper instead of merely writing to fill its columns."
In many small towns women have not
heretofore been overly welcome on the staff of the local paper, for the
small town is essentially conservative and suspicious of change. This war,
however, is changing all that, and many a woman with newspaper ambitions
will now have her chance at home.
For ten years I have been what may be
classified as a small town newspaper woman, serving in every capacity from
society reporter to city and managing editor. During this time I have been
tempted many times to go to fields where national fame and a larger salary
awaited those who won. But it was that latter part that held me back, that
and one other factor: "Those who won," and "What do they get out of it
more than I?"
It is generally conceded that for one
woman who succeeds in the metropolitan newspaper field about ten fail
before the vicissitudes of city life, the orders of managing editors, and
the merciless grind of the big city's working world. And with those who
succeed, what have they more than I? They sign their names to articles;
they receive big salaries; they are famous—as such fame goes. Why is a
signed name to an article necessary, when everyone knows when the paper
comes out that I wrote the article? What does national fame mean compared
with the fact that the local laws of the "Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals" were not being enforced and that I wrote stories that
remedied this condition?
I began newspaper life as society
reporter of a daily paper in a Middle-Western town of ten thousand
inhabitants. That is, I supposed I was going to be society reporter, but
before very long I found myself doing police assignments, sport, editing
telegraph, and whatever the occasion demanded.
I suppose that the beginnings of
everyone's business life always remain
vivid memories. The first morning I reported for work at seven o'clock.
Naturally, no one was in the front office, as the news department of a
small-town newspaper office is sometimes called. I was embarrassed and
nervous, and sat anxiously awaiting the arrival of the city editor. In
five minutes he gave me sufficient instructions to last a year, but the
only one I remember was, "Ask all the questions you can think of, and
don't let anyone bluff you out of a story."
My first duty, and one that I performed
every morning for several years, was to "make" an early morning train
connecting with a large city, forty miles away. It was no easy task to
approach strangers and ask their names and destination; but it was all
good experience, and it taught me how to approach people and to ask
personal questions without being rude.
During my service as society reporter I
learned much, so much that I am convinced there is no work in the smaller
towns better suited to women. Any girl who is bright and quick, who knows
the ethics of being a lady, can hold this position and make better money
at it than by teaching or clerking.
Each trade, they say, has its tricks,
and being a society reporter is no exception. In towns of from one
thousand to two thousand inhabitants, the news that Mrs. X. is going to
give a party spreads rapidly by that system of wireless telegraphy that
excels the Marconi—neighborhood gossip. But in the larger towns it is not
so easy. In "our town," whenever there is a party the ice cream is ordered
from a certain confectioner. Daily he permitted us to see his order book.
If Mrs. Jones ordered a quart of ice cream we knew that she was only
having a treat for the family. If it were two quarts or more, it was a
party, and if it was ice cream in molds, we knew a big formal function was
on foot.
Society reporting is a fertile field,
and for a long time I had been thinking that society columns were too
dull. My ideal of a newspaper is that every department should be edited so
that everyone would read all the paper. I knew that men rarely read the
social column. One day a man said to me that he always called his wife his
better judgment instead of his better half. That appealed to me as
printable, but where to put it in the paper? Why not in my own department?
I did so. That night when the paper came out everyone clamored to know who
the man was, for I had merely written, "A man in town calls his wife his
better judgment instead of his better half."
Then I decided to make the society
department a reflection of our daily
life and sayings. In order to get these in I used the initials of my
title, "S.R." I never used names, but I always managed to identify my
persons.
As one might expect, I brought down a
storm about my head. Many persons took the hints for themselves when they
were not so intended, and there were some amusing results. For instance,
when I said in the paper that "a certain man in a down-town store has
perfect manners," the next day twelve men thanked me, and I received four
boxes of candy as expressions of gratitude.
There were no complaints about the
society column being dull after this; everyone read it and laughed at it,
and it was quoted in many exchanges. Of course, I was careful to hurt no
one's feelings, but I did occasionally have a little good-natured fun at
the expense of people who wouldn't mind it. Little personal paragraphs of
this sort must never be malicious or mean—if the paper is to keep its
friends.
Of all my newspaper experience I like
best to dwell on the society reporting; but if I were to advance I knew
that I must take on more responsibility, so I became city editor of
another paper. I was virtually managing editor, for the editor and owner
was a politician and was away much of the time. It was then that I began
to realize the responsibility of my position, to grapple with the problem
of dealing fairly both with my employer and the public. The daily life
with its varying incidents, the big civic issues, the stories to be
handled, the rights of the advertisers to be considered, the adjusting of
the news to the business department—all these were brought before me with
a powerful clarity.
When a woman starts on a city paper she
knows that there are linotypes, presses and other machinery. Often she has
seen them work; but her knowledge of "how" they work is generally vague.
It was on my third day as city editor that I realized my woeful ignorance
of the newspaper business from the mechanical viewpoint. I had just
arrived at the office when the foreman came to my desk.
"Say," he said, "we didn't get any stuff
set last night. Power was off. Better come out and pick out the plate you
want to fill with."
What he meant by the power being off I
could understand, and perforce I went out to select the plate. He handed
me long slabs of plate matter to read. Later I learned that printed copies
of the plate are sent for selection, but in my ignorance I took up the
slabs and tried to read the type. To my
astonishment it was all backward, and I found myself wondering if it were
a Chinese feature story. Finally I threw myself on his mercy and told him
to select what he chose. As I left the composing-room I heard him say to
one of the printers: "That's what comes of the boss hiring a hen editor."
Shortly after noon a linotype operator
came to me with his hands full of copy.
"If you want any of this dope in the
paper," he said, "you'll have to grab off a paragraph here and there. My
machine's got a bad squirt, and it'll take an hour or more to fix it."
Greek, all Greek! A squirt! I was too
busy "grabbing off" paragraphs to investigate; but then and there I
resolved to penetrate all these mysteries. I found the linotype operator
eager to show me how his machine works, and the foreman was glad to take
me around and instruct me in his department and also in the pressroom. I
have had trouble with printers since; but in the end they had to admit
that the "hen editor" knew what she was talking about.
There is a great cry now for woman's
advancement. If the women are hunting equality as their goal let them not
seek out the crowded, hostile cities, but remain in the smaller places
where their work can stand out distinctly. A trite phrase expresses it
that a newspaper is the "voice of the people." What better than that a
woman should set the tune for that voice?
Equality with men! I sit at my desk
looking out over the familiar home scene. A smell of fresh ink comes to
me, and a paper just off the press is slapped down on my desk.
"Look!" says the foreman. "We got out
some paper today, didn't we?"
"We!" How's that for equality? He
has been twenty years at his trade and I only ten, yet he includes me.
When I am tempted to feel that my field
is limited, my tools crude, and my work unhonored and unsung, I recall a
quotation I read many years ago, and I will place it here at the end of
the "hen editor's" uneventful story.
Back before my mind floats that phrase,
"Buried in this burg." If a person has ability, will not the world learn
it?
"If a man can write a better book,
preach a better sermon, or sing a more glorious song than his neighbor,
though he build his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten path
to his door."
That a personal experience story may be
utilized to show readers how to do something is demonstrated in the
following article taken from The Designer. It was illustrated by a
half-tone made from a wash drawing of one corner of the burlap room.
A Bedroom in Burlap
The Most Satisfactory Room in Our
Bungalow
BY KATHERINE VAN DORN
Our burlap room is the show room of our
bungalow. Visitors are guided through the living-room, the bedroom, the
sleeping-porch and kitchen, and allowed to express their delight and
satisfaction while we wait with bated breath for the grand surprise to be
given them. Then, when they have concluded, we say:
"But you should see our burlap room!"
Then we lead the way up the stairs to the attic and again stand and wait.
We know what is coming, and, as we revel in the expressions of admiration
evoked, we again declaim with enormous pride: "We made it all ourselves!"
There is
a solid satisfaction in making a room, especially for an
amateur who hardly expects to undertake
room-making as a profession.
We regard our room as an original creation
produced by our own
genius, not likely to be duplicated in our
personal experience. It
grew in this wise:
When we came to the bungalow last spring
the family numbered three instead of the two of the year before. Now
number three, a healthy and bouncing young woman, necessitated a
"sleeping-in" maid if her parents were ever to be able to detach
themselves from her person. We had never had a sleeping-in maid at the
bungalow before and the problem of where to put her was a serious one. We
well knew that no self-respecting servant would condescend to sleep in an
attic, although the attic was cool, airy and comfortable. We rather
thought, too, that the maid might despise us if we gave her the bedroom
and took up our quarters under the rafters. It would be an easy enough
matter for carpenters and plasterers to put a room in the attic, but we
lacked the money necessary for such a venture. And so we puzzled. At first
we thought of curtains, but the high winds which visit us made curtains
impracticable. Then we thought of tacking
the curtains top and bottom, and from this
the idea evolved. The carpenter whom we consulted proved to be amenable to
suggestion and agreed to put us up a framework in a day. We helped. We
outlined the room on the floor. This took two strips of wood about one and
a half by two inches. The other two sides of the room were formed by the
wall of the attic and by the meeting place of the roof and floor—that is,
there was in reality no fourth wall; the room simply ended where floor and
roof met. Two strips were nailed to the rafters in positions similar to
those on the floor, and then an upright strip was inserted and nailed fast
at intervals of every three feet. This distance was decided by the fact
that curtain materials usually come a yard wide. For a door we used a
discarded screen-door, which, having been denuded of the bits of wire
clinging to it, answered the purpose very well. The door completed the
skeleton.
We used a beautiful soft blue burlap.
Tacking on proved a more difficult matter than we had anticipated, owing
to the fact that our carpenter had used cypress for the framework. We
stretched the material taut and then tacked it fast with sharp-pointed,
large-headed brass tacks, and while inserting these we measured carefully
the distances between the tacks in order to keep this trimming uniform.
The two walls supplied by the framework were quickly covered, but the
rough wall of the attic necessitated some cutting, as we had to tack the
burlap to the uprights and these had not been placed with yard-wide
material in view. Above the screen-door frame was a hiatus of space
running up into the peak. The carpenter had thoughtfully run two strips up
to the roof and this enabled us to fill in by cutting and turning in the
cloth. A corresponding space above the window received similar treatment.
Then we covered the inner surface of the screen door and we had a room.
But we were far from satisfied. The room
looked bare and crude. We bought a can of dark-oak stain and gave the
floor a coat and this improved matters so much that we stained the wood
visible on the door frame and about the window. Having finished this, we
saw the need of doing something for the ceiling. The ceiling was merely
the inner surface of the roof. The builders had made it of boards of
varying sizes, the rafters were rough and splintery and there were myriads
of nails sticking through everywhere. It looked a hopeless task. But we
bought more stain and went to work. Before beginning we covered our
precious blue walls with newspapers, donned our oldest clothes and spread
papers well over the floor. It was well
that we did. The staining was not difficult work but the nails made it
splashy and we were pretty well spotted when we finished.
But when we did finish we felt
compensated. The nails had become invisible. The dull blue walls with
their bright brass trimming, the soft brown floor and the stained,
raftered roof made the room the most attractive in the house. We could not
rest, although the hour was late and we were both tired, until we had
furnished it. We put in a couple of small rugs, a brass bed, and a white
bureau. We hung two pictures securely upon the uprights of the skeleton.
We added a couple of chairs and a rack for clothing, put up a white madras
curtain at the window, and regarded the effect with the utmost
satisfaction. The room answered the purpose exactly. The burlap was thick
enough to act as a screen. It was possible to see movement through it, but
not form. It insured privacy and still permitted the air to pass through
for ventilation. As a finishing touch we screwed a knob on the outside of
the door, put a brass hook on the inside and went downstairs to count the
cost.
As a quick and inexpensive method of
adding to the number of rooms in one's house, the making of a burlap room
is without an equal. The idea is not patented, and we who deem ourselves
its creators, are only too happy to send it on, in the hope that it may be
of service to some other puzzled householder who is wondering where to put
an added family member.
The Confession Story. Closely akin
to the personal experience article is the so-called "confession story."
Usually published anonymously, confession stories may reveal more personal
and intimate experiences than a writer would ordinarily care to give in a
signed article. Needless to say, most readers are keenly interested in such
revelations, even though they are made anonymously. Like personal experience
stories, they are told in the first person with a liberal use of the pronoun
"I."
A writer need not confine himself to his
own experiences for confession stories; he may obtain valuable material for
them from others. Not infrequently his name is attached to these articles
accompanied by the statement that the confession was "transcribed," "taken
down," or "recorded" by the writer.
Conditions of life in classes of society
with which the reader is not familiar may be brought home to him through the
medium of the confession story. It may be made the means of arousing
interest in questions about which the average reader cares little. The
average man or woman, for example, is probably little concerned with the
problem of the poorly paid college professor, but hundreds of thousands
doubtless read with interest the leading article in an issue of the
Saturday Evening Post entitled, "The Pressure on the Professor." This
was a confession story, which did not give the author's own experiences but
appeared as "Transcribed by Walter E. Weyl." This article was obviously
written with the purpose, skillfully concealed, of calling attention to the
hard lot of the underpaid professor.
Constructive criticism of existing
conditions may be successfully embodied in the form of a confession article
that describes the evils as they have been experienced by one individual. If
the article is to be entirely effective and just, the experience of the one
person described must be fairly typical of that of others in the same
situation. In order to show that these experiences are characteristic, the
writer may find it advantageous to introduce facts and figures tending to
prove that his own case is not an isolated example. In the confession
article mentioned above, "The Pressure on the Professor," the assistant
professor who makes the confession, in order to demonstrate that his own
case is typical, cites statistics collected by a colleague at Stanford
University giving the financial status of 112 assistant professors in
various American universities.
Confessions that show how faults and
personal difficulties have been overcome prove helpful to readers laboring
under similar troubles. Here again, what is related should be typical rather
than exceptional.
Examples of the Confession Story.
That an intimate account of the financial difficulties of a young couple as
told by the wife, may not only make an interesting story but may serve as a
warning to others, is shown in the confession story below. Signed "F.B.,"
and illustrated with a pen and ink sketch
of the couple at work over their accounts, it was printed in Every Week,
a popular illustrated periodical formerly published by the Crowell
Publishing Company, New York.
The Things We Learned to Do Without
We were married within a month of our
commencement, after three years of courtship at a big Middle West
university. Looking back, it seems to me that rich, tumultuous college
life of ours was wholly pagan. All about us was the free-handed atmosphere
of "easy money," and in our "crowd" a tacit implication that a good time
was one of the primary necessities of life. Such were our ideas when we
married on a salary of one hundred dollars a month. We took letters of
introduction to some of the "smart" people in a suburb near Chicago, and
they proved so delightfully cordial that we settled down among them
without stopping to consider the discrepancies between their ways and our
income. We were put up at a small country club—a simple affair enough,
comparatively speaking—that demanded six weeks' salary in initial dues and
much more in actual subsequent expense. "Everybody" went out for Saturday
golf and stayed for dinner and dancing.
By fall there was in working operation a
dinner club of the "younger married set," as our local column in the city
papers called us; an afternoon bridge club; and a small theater club that
went into town every fortnight for dinner and a show. Costly little
amusements, but hardly more than were due charming young people of our
opportunities and tastes. I think that was our attitude, although we did
not admit it. In September we rented a "smart" little apartment. We had
planned to furnish it by means of several generous checks which were
family contributions to our array of wedding gifts. What we did was to buy
the furniture on the instalment plan, agreeing to pay twenty dollars a
month till the bill was settled, and we put the furniture money into
running expenses.
It was the beginning of a custom. They
gave most generously, that older generation. Visiting us, Max's mother
would slip a bill into my always empty purse when we went shopping; or
mine would drop a gold piece into my top bureau drawer for me to find
after she had gone. And there were always checks for birthdays.
Everything went into running expenses;
yet, in spite of it, our expenses ran quite away. Max said I was "too
valuable a woman to put into the kitchen," so we hired a maid,
good-humoredly giving her carte blanche on the grocery and meat
market. Our bills, for all our dining out, were enormous. There were
clothes, too. Max delighted in silk socks and tailored shirts, and he
ordered his monogramed cigarettes by the thousand. My own taste ran to
expensive little hats.
It is hardly necessary to recount the
details. We had our first tremendous quarrel at the end of six months,
when, in spite of our furniture money and our birthday checks, we found
ourselves two hundred and fifty dollars in debt. But as we cooled we
decided that there was nothing we could do without; we could only be "more
careful."
Every month we reached that same
conclusion. There was nothing we could do without. At the end of the year
on a $1200 salary we were $700 behind; eight months later, after our first
baby came, we were over a thousand—and by that time, it seemed,
permanently estranged. I actually was carrying out a threat of separation
and stripping the apartment, one morning, when Max came back from town and
sat down to discuss matters with me.
A curious labyrinthine discussion it
was, winding from recriminations and flat admissions that our marriage was
a failure and our love was dead, to the most poignant memories of our
engagement days. But its central point was Max's detached insistence that
we make marriage over into a purely utilitarian affair.
"Man needs the decencies of a home," he
said over and over. "It doesn't do a fellow any good with a firm like mine
to have them know he can't manage his affairs. And my firm is the kind of
firm I want to work for. This next year is important; and if I spend it
dragging through a nasty divorce business, knowing that everybody knows,
I'll be about thirty per cent efficient. I'm willing to admit that
marriage—even a frost like ours—is useful. Will you?"
I had to. My choice rested between going
home, where there were two younger sisters, or leaving the baby somewhere
and striking out for myself.
"It seems to me," said Max, taking out
his pencil, "that if two reasonably clever people can put their best brain
power and eight hours a day into a home, it might amount to something
sometime. The thing resolves itself into a choice between the things we
can do without and the things we can't.
We'll list them. We can't do without three meals and a roof; but there
must be something."
"You can certainly give up silk socks
and cigarettes," I said; and, surprisingly, on this old sore point between
us Max agreed.
"You can give up silk stockings, then,"
he said, and put them down. Silk socks and silk stockings! Out of all
possible economies, they were the only things that we could think of.
Finally—
"We could make baby an excuse," I said,
"and never get out to the club till very late—after dinner—and stay just
for the dancing. And we could get out of the dinner club and the theater
bunch. Only, we ought to have some fun."
"You can go to matinées, and tell me
about them, so we can talk intelligently. We'll say we can't leave the kid
nights—"
"We can buy magazines and read up on
plays. We'll talk well enough if we do that, and people won't know we
haven't been. Put down: 'Magazines for plays.'"
He did it quite seriously. Do we seem
very amusing to you? So anxious lest we should betray our economies—so
impressed with our social "position" and what people might think! It is
funny enough to me, looking back; but it was bitter business then.
I set myself to playing the devoted and
absorbed young mother. But it was a long, long time before it became the
sweetest of realities. I cried the first time I refused a bridge game to
"stay with baby"; and I carried a sore heart those long spring afternoons
when I pushed his carriage conspicuously up and down the avenue while the
other women motored past me out for tea at the club. Yet those long walks
were the best thing that ever happened to me. I had time to think, for one
thing; and I gained splendid health, losing the superfluous flesh I was
beginning to carry, and the headaches that usually came after days of
lunching and bridge and dining.
I fell into the habit, too, of going
around by the market, merely to have an objective, and buying the day's
supplies. The first month of that habit my bills showed a decrease of
$16.47. I shall always remember that sum, because it is certainly the
biggest I have ever seen. I began to ask the prices of things; and I made
my first faint effort at applying our game of substitution to the food
problem, a thing which to me is still one of the most fascinating factors
in housekeeping.
One afternoon in late summer, I found a
delightful little bungalow in process of building, on a side street not so
very far from the proper avenue.
I investigated idly, and found that the rent was thirty dollars less than
we were paying. Yet even then I hesitated.
It was Max who had the courage to
decide.
"The only thing we are doing without is
the address," he said, "And that isn't a loss that looks like $360 to me."
All that fall and winter we kept
doggedly at our game of substitution. Max bought a ready-made Tuxedo, and
I ripped out the label and sewed in one from a good tailor. I carried half
a dozen dresses from the dyer's to a woman who evolved three very decent
gowns; and then I toted them home in a box with a marking calculated to
impress any chance acquaintance. We were so ashamed of our attempts at
thrift that they came hard.
Often enough we quarreled after we had
been caught in some sudden temptation that set us back a pretty penny, and
we were inevitably bored and cross when we refused some gayety for
economy's sake. We resolutely decided to read aloud the evenings the
others went to the theater club; and as resolutely we substituted a stiff
game of chess for the bridge that we could not afford. But we had to learn
to like them both.
Occasionally we entertained at very
small, very informal dinners, "on account of the baby"; and definitely
discarded the wines that added the "smartness" demanded at formal affairs.
People came to those dinners in their second or third best: but they
stayed late, and laughed hilariously to the last second of their stay.
In the spring we celebrated Max's second
respectable rise in salary by dropping out of the country club. We could
do without it by that time. At first we thought it necessary to substitute
a determined tramp for the Sunday morning golf game; but we presently gave
that up. We were becoming garden enthusiasts. And as a substitution for
most of the pleasure cravings of life, gardening is to be highly
recommended. Discontent has a curious little trick of flowing out of the
earthy end of a hoe.
Later that summer I found that a maid
was one of the things I could do without, making the discovery in an
interregnum not of my original choosing. A charwoman came in for the
heavier work, and I took over the cooking. Almost immediately, in spite of
my inexperience, the bills dropped. I could not cook rich pastries and
fancy desserts, and fell back on simple salads and fruit instead. I dipped
into the household magazines, followed on into technical articles on
efficiency, substituted labor-savers wherever I could, and started my
first muddled set of accounts.
At the beginning of the new year I tried
my prentice hand on a budget; and that was the year that we emerged from
debt and began to save.
That was six very short years ago. When,
with three babies, the bungalow became a trifle small, we built a little
country house and moved farther out. Several people whom we liked best
among that first "exclusive younger set" have moved out too, and formed
the nucleus of a neighborhood group that has wonderful times on incomes no
one of which touches $4000 a year.
Ours is not as much as that yet; but it
is enough to leave a wide and comfortable margin all around our wants. Max
has given up his pipe for cigarettes (unmonogramed), and patronizes a good
tailor for business reasons. But in everything else our substitutions
stand: gardening for golf; picnics for roadhouse dinners; simple food,
simple clothing, simple hospitality, books, a fire, and a game of chess on
winter nights.
We don't even talk about economies any
more. We like them. But—every Christmas there comes to me via the
Christmas tree a box of stockings, and for Max a box of socks—heavy silk.
There never is any card in either box; but I think we'll probably get them
till we die.
The following short confession, signed
"Mrs. M.F.E.," was awarded the first prize by the American Magazine
in a contest for articles on "The Best Thing Experience Has Taught Me":
Forty Years Bartered for What?
A tiny bit of wisdom, but as vital as
protoplasm. I know, for I bartered forty precious years of wifehood and
motherhood to learn it.
During the years of my childhood and
girlhood, our family passed from wealth to poverty. My father and only
brother were killed in battle during the Civil War; our slaves were freed;
our plantations melted from my mother's white hands during the
Reconstruction days; our big town house was sold for taxes.
When I married, my only dowry was a
fierce pride and an overwhelming ambition to get back our material
prosperity. My husband was making a "good living." He was kind,
easy-going, with a rare capacity for enjoying life and he loved his wife
with that chivalrous, unquestioning,
"the queen-can-do-no-wrong" type of love.
But even in our days of courting I
answered his ardent love-making with, "And we will work and save and buy
back the big house; then we will—" etc., etc.
And he? Ah, alone at sixty, I can still
hear echoing down the years his big tender laugh, as he'd say, "Oh, what a
de-ah, ambitious little sweetheart I have!"
He owned a home, a little cottage with a
rose garden at one side of it—surely, with love, enough for any bride. But
I—I saw only the ancestral mansion up the street, the big old house that
had passed out of the hands of our family.
I would have no honeymoon trip; I wanted
the money instead. John kissed each of my palms before he put the money
into them. My fingers closed greedily over the bills; it was the nest egg,
the beginning.
Next I had him dismiss his bookkeeper
and give me the place. I didn't go to his store—Southern ladies didn't do
that in those days—but I kept the books at home, and I wrote all the
business letters. So it happened when John came home at night, tired from
his day's work at the store, I had no time for diversions, for
love-making, no hours to walk in the rose garden by his side—no, we must
talk business.
I can see John now on many a hot
night—and summer is hot in the Gulf States—dripping with
perspiration as he dictated his letters to me, while I, my aching head
near the big hot lamp, wrote on and on with hurried, nervous fingers.
Outside there would be the evening breeze from the Gulf, the moonlight,
the breath of the roses, all the romance of the southern night—but not for
us!
The children came—four, in quick
succession. But so fixed were my eyes on the goal of Success, I scarcely
realized the mystery of motherhood. Oh, I loved them! I loved John, too. I
would willingly have laid down my life for him or for any one of the
children. And I intended sometime to stop and enjoy John and the
children. Oh, yes, I was going really to live after we had bought
back the big house, and had done so and so! In the meanwhile, I held my
breath and worked.
"I'll be so glad," I remember saying one
day to a friend, "when all my children are old enough to be off at school
all day!" Think of that! Glad when the best years of our lives together
were passed! The day came when the last little fellow trudged off to
school and I no longer had a baby to hamper me. We were
living now in the big old home. We had bought it back and paid for it. I
no longer did John's bookkeeping for him—he paid a man a hundred dollars a
month to do that—but I still kept my hand on the business.
Then suddenly one day—John died. Died
in what should have been the prime and vigor of his life.
I worked harder than ever then, not from
necessity, but because in the first few years after John left I was
afraid to stop and think. So the years hurried by! One by one the
children grew up and entered more or less successful careers of their
own.... I don't feel that I know them so very well.
And now that the time of life has come
when I must stop and think, I ask myself: "What did you do with the
wonderful gifts Life laid in your lap—the love of a good man, domestic
happiness, the chance to know intimately four little souls?"
And being honest I have to answer: "I
bartered Life's great gifts for Life's pitiful extras—for pride, for
show!"
If my experience were unique it would
not be worth publishing, but it is only too common. Think of the wives who
exchange the best years of their lives, their husband's comfort, his peace
of mind, if not to buy back the family mansion, then for a higher social
position; sometimes it is merely for—clothes!
It is to you women who still have the
opportunity to "walk with John in the garden" that I give my dearly bought
bit of experience. Stop holding your breath until you get this or that;
stop reaching out blindly for to-morrow's prize; live to-day!
The "How-to-do-Something" Article.
Articles the primary purpose of which is to give directions for doing
something in a particular way, are always in demand. The simplest type is
the recipe or formula containing a few directions for combining ingredients.
More elaborate processes naturally demand more complex directions and
require longer articles. In the simpler types the directions are given in
the imperative form; that is, the reader is told to "take" this thing and
that, and to "mix" it with something else. Although such recipe directions
are clear, they are not particularly interesting. Many readers, especially
those of agricultural journals, are tired of being told to do this and that
in order to get better results. They are inclined to suspect the writer of
giving directions on the basis of untried
theory rather than on that of successful practice. There is an advantage,
therefore, in getting away from formal advice and directions and in
describing actual processes as they have been carried on successfully.
Articles intended to give practical
guidance are most interesting when cast in the form of an interview, a
personal experience, or a narrative. In an interview article, a person may
indirectly give directions to others by describing in his own words the
methods that he has used to accomplish the desired results. Or the writer,
by telling his own experiences in doing something, may give readers
directions in an interesting form.
Whatever method he adopts, the writer must
keep in mind the questions that his readers would be likely to ask if he
were explaining the method or process to them in person. To one who is
thoroughly familiar with a method the whole process is so clear that he
forgets how necessary it is to describe every step to readers unfamiliar
with it. The omission of a single point may make it impossible for the
reader to understand or to follow the directions. Although a writer need not
insult the intelligence of his readers by telling them what they already
know, he may well assume that they need to be reminded tactfully of many
things that they may have known but have possibly forgotten.
Two Practical Guidance Articles. A
method of filing office records, as explained apparently by the man who
devised it, is well set forth in the following combination of the personal
experience and the "how-to-do-something" types of articles. It appeared in
System with a half-tone reproduction of a photograph showing a man
looking over records in a drawer of the desk at which he is seated.
Who'll Do John's Work?
BY M. C. HOBART
"It's a quarter after 8 and Schuyler
hasn't showed up," telephoned Beggs, one of our foremen, last Tuesday
morning. "I've put Fanning on his machine, but that won't help much
unless I can get somebody to work at
Fanning's bench. Got anybody you can let me have for to-day?"
I didn't know offhand. But I told Beggs
I'd call him back.
Ten minutes later a young lathe operator
reported to Beggs. He was able to run Fanning's machine while the latter
temporarily filled the shoes of the absent Schuyler.
Scarcely a week passes that does not
bring a similar call to our employment office. While our plant, as plants
go, is not large, we always have a number of men working with us who are
fitted by experience and adaptability to do other work than that which
they are hired to do. Such men are invaluable to know about, especially
when an operator stays away for a day or perhaps a week and the shop is
full of orders. Once it was a problem to find the right man immediately. A
few additions to our employment records made it possible to keep track of
each man's complete qualifications.
The employment records I keep in my desk
in the deep drawer. They are filed alphabetically by name. When we hire a
man we write his name and the job he is to fill on the outside of a 9 by
12 manila envelope. Into this envelope we put his application, his
references, and other papers. His application tells us what kinds of work
he can do and has done in other shops.
There are 29 different kinds of work to
be done in our shops, from gear cutting to running errands. I have listed
these operations, alphabetically, on a cardboard the exact length of the
employment record envelope, 12 inches. When a man tells me in his
application that he not only can operate a drill press, for which he is
hired, but has also worked at grinding, I fit my cardboard list to the top
of the employment record envelope and punch two notches along the top
directly opposite the words "drill press" and "grinding" on my list. Then
I file away the envelope.
I rest secure now in my knowledge that I
have not buried a potential grinder in a drill press operator, or that I
do not have to carry his double qualifications in my mind. I know that if
Beggs should suddenly telephone me some morning that his grinder is
absent—sick, or fishing, perhaps—I need only take my cardboard list and,
starting at A, run it down my file until I come to the envelope of the
drill press operator. I am stopped there automatically by the second notch
on the envelope which corresponds in position to the word "grinder" on my
list.
And there is every likelihood that, with
the necessary explanation to the man's
own foreman, Beggs will get his grinder for the day.
From the following article, printed in
Farm and Fireside city and country readers alike may glean much
practical information concerning ways and means of making a comfortable
living from a small farm. It was illustrated by four half-tone reproductions
of photographs showing (1) the house, (2) the woman at her desk with a
typewriter before her, (3) the woman in her dining-room about to serve a
meal from a labor-saving service wagon, and (4) the woman in the poultry
yard with a basket of eggs.
Ten Acres and a Living
She was young, popular, and had been reared
in the city. Everybody laughed when she decided to farm—but that was four
years ago
BY ALICE MARY KIMBALL
When she decided to be a farmer
everybody laughed. She was young, popular, unusually fond of frocks and
fun. She had been reared in the city. She didn't know a Jersey from a
Hereford, or a Wyandotte from a Plymouth Rock.
"You'll be back in six months," her
friends said.
Four years have passed. Mrs. Charles S.
Tupper still is "buried" in the country. Moreover, she is supplying eggs,
chickens, honey, and home-canned goods to those of her former associates
who are willing to pay for quality.
"Farming," said Mrs. Tupper, "is the
ideal vocation for the woman who feels the modern desire for a job and the
need of marriage and a home.
"I never wanted a job so keenly as when
I found myself in a small city apartment without enough to do to keep me
busy. After I'd swept and dusted and prepared meals for two, I had hours
of time on my hands. The corner bakeshop, the laundry, and modern
conveniences had thrust upon me more leisure than I could use. Mr. Tupper
is a young engineer whose work takes him to various parts of the
Southwest. In his absence I felt strongly the need of filling up my idle
hours in some interesting, useful way.
"I
didn't quite like the idea of spending all my spare time on cards,
calling, women's clubs, and social pleasures. I longed to be a real
partner to my husband and to share in making the family income as well as
spending it.
"We had a few thousand saved for a home,
and were trying to decide where to build. One day it flashed upon me: 'Why
invest in city property? Why not a little farm? Then we'll have a home;
I'll have a job, and can make our living.'"
The idea materialized into a modern
bungalow on a 10-acre farm in Westdale, Missouri, an hour's drive from
Kansas City. Mr. Tupper's salary furnished working capital for the
enterprise and Mrs. Tupper has found congenial work as farmer-in-chief.
Poultry, bees, and a vegetable garden
are Mrs. Tupper's specialities. Her side lines are a pig and a registered
Jersey cow. She looks after the poultry, works in garden and apiary, and
milks the cow herself. She employs very little help.
"It wasn't difficult to get a start in
learning to farm," Mrs. Tupper explained. "I visited farms and studied the
methods of farmers and their wives. I asked lots of questions.
"I didn't have any old fogyisms to
unlearn, and I didn't acquire any. I went straight to the agricultural
college and the state poultry experiment station for instructions. While I
was living in the country supervising the building of the bungalow, I read
and digested every bulletin I could get. I'm still studying bulletins. I
subscribe for several farm papers and a bee journal.
"Of course, I learned a great deal from
the practical experience of the people about me, but I checked up
everything to the rules and directions of government and state
agricultural experts, which may be had for the price of a postage stamp. I
tried to take orders intelligently. I ignored old rules for poultry and
bee-keeping."
Mrs. Tupper's chickens are hatched in
incubators, hovered in a coal-heated brooder house, fed according to
experiment-station directions, and reared in poultry houses built from
experiment-station designs. From the first they have been practically free
from lice and disease. She gets winter eggs. Even in zero weather and at
times when feed is most costly, her spring pullets more than pay their
way.
"Bees responded as readily to proper
treatment," she said. "My second season I harvested $265 worth of comb
honey from twenty working swarms. And I was stung not a half-dozen times
at that."
Some of Mrs. Tupper's neighbors were
inclined to joke at first at her appetite for bulletins, her belief in
experts, and her rigid insistence on pure-bred stock and poultry. They
admit now that her faith has been justified.
If Mrs. Tupper had trod in the well-worn
neighborhood ruts, she would have marketed her produce by the
country-store-commission-man-retailer-consumer route; but again she did
not. From the first she planned to plug the leakage of farm profits in
middlemen's commissions. When she had anything to sell, she put on a
good-looking tailored suit, a becoming hat, smart shoes and gloves, and
went to the city to talk to ultimate consumers.
The consciousness of being dressed
appropriately—not expensively or ornately—is a valuable aid to the farm
saleswoman, Mrs. Tupper thinks.
"If a salesman comes to me shabbily
dressed or flashily dressed, I can't give him a fair hearing," she said.
"I may let him talk on, but I decide against him the instant I look at
him. So I reasoned that a trim, pleasing appearance would be as valuable
an asset to me as to the men who sell pickles, insurance, or gilt-edged
bonds. It would mean a favorable first impression and open the way to show
samples and make a sales talk.
"If I tried to interview a prospective
customer handicapped by the consciousness that my skirt hung badly or that
my shoes were shabby, not only would I be timid and ill at ease, but my
appearance would suggest to the city buyer the very slipshodness and lack
of reliability he fears in buying direct from the farm.
"I go strong on attractive samples. It
would be useless to try for fancy prices if I brought honey to town in
mean-looking cases or rusty cans. A slight drip down the side of a package
might not be proof positive of poor quality, but it would frighten away a
careful buyer. Likewise, I do not illustrate my egg sales talks with a
sample dozen of odd sizes and shapes. It is needless to add that goods
delivered to customers must be of the same quality and appearance as the
samples, and that one must keep one's promises to the dot. A little
well-directed enterprise will land a customer, but only good service can
hold him."
When the current wholesale price of
honey was $3 a case, Mrs. Tupper's comb honey has been in demand at from
20 to 30 cents a pound. She disposes of every pound to private customers
and to one grocery store which caters to "fancy" trade. She sells eggs
from her 400 Anconas at from 4 to 6 cents more a dozen than
the country store is paying its patrons who bring in eggs and "take them
out in trade."
Mrs. Tupper figured that if a trademark
has advertising pull for a manufacturing concern, it would help the farm
business. She christened her 10 acres "Graceland Farm," and this name is
stamped on everything that leaves her place. She had cards printed bearing
the name of the farm, its telephone number, and its products. Graceland
Farm is also emphasized on letter heads.
"Prompt attention to correspondence is
an easy method of advertising a farm business," she suggested. "A
typewritten letter on letterhead stationery, mailed promptly, creates a
pleasant impression on the man who has written to inquire the price of a
setting of eggs or a trio of chickens.
"Suppose I delayed a week and wrote the
reply with pen and ink, or, worse, with a pencil on ruled tablet paper.
I'd stand a good chance of losing a customer, wouldn't I? If I didn't miss
an order outright, I should certainly leave a suggestion of inefficiency
and carelessness which could only be charged to the debit side of the
business."
She has found that a $50 typewriter and
a letter file have helped greatly to create the good-will which is as
essential to the farmer business woman as to the woman who runs a
millinery shop or an insurance office.
Mrs. Tupper has encouraged automobile
trade. Her apiary is within sight of the road, and a "Honey for Sale" sign
brings many a customer. Many of her city patrons have the habit of driving
to the farm and returning with a hamper laden with eggs, honey, butter, or
canned stuff from the vegetable garden. The garden last summer supplied
material for more than 900 cans of vegetables.
The neighbors smile at her zeal for
fairs and poultry shows.
"It isn't fun altogether; it's
business," she tells them.
It was cold, disagreeable work, for
instance, to prepare an exhibit for the Heart of America Poultry Show at
Kansas City last fall; but Mrs. Tupper felt repaid. She won first prize on
hen, first and second on pullet, and fourth on cockerel. Then she
exhibited at the St. Joseph, Missouri, Poultry Show with even better
success.
"These prizes will add to the value of
every chicken I have, and to all my poultry products. They give me another
advertising point," she said.
"The shows gave me a fine opportunity to
meet possible customers and to make
friends for my business. I was on the job for days. I met scores of people
and distributed hundreds of cards. I learned a lot, too, in talks with
judges and experienced breeders."
The Tupper bungalow is neat and
attractive. In spite of her duties in the poultry house and apiary, Mrs.
Tupper serves appetizing meals. She finds time for church work and
neighborhood calls, and gives every Thursday to the Red Cross.
The housework is speeded up with such
conveniences as hot and cold water in kitchen and bathroom, and steam
heat. The kitchen is an efficient little workshop lined by cupboards and
shelves. Mrs. Tupper can sit before her kitchen cabinet and prepare a meal
without moving about for ingredients and utensils. A service wagon saves
steps between kitchen and dining-room.
The floors of the bungalow are of hard
wood. They are waxed a few times each year, and a little work each morning
with dust mop and carpet sweeper keeps them in good order. The washing is
sent out.
"I couldn't earn an income from the farm
if I had a farmhouse without modern improvements," Mrs. Tupper declared.
"Reducing drudgery to a minimum is only plain business sense. Laundry
work, scrubbing, and dishwashing have a low economic value. Such unskilled
labor eats up the time and strength one needs for the more profitable and
interesting tasks of farm management, accounting and correspondence,
advertising and marketing."
The Personality Sketch. We all like
to read about prominent and successful people. We want to know more about
the men and women who figure in the day's news, and even about interesting
persons whose success has not been great enough to be heralded in the press.
What appeals to us most about these individuals is, not mere biographical
facts such as appear in Who's Who, but the more intimate details of
character and personality that give us the key to their success. We want to
see them as living men and women. It is the writer's problem to present them
so vividly that we shall feel as if we had actually met them face to face.
The purpose of the personality sketch may
be (1) to give interesting information concerning either prominent or
little known persons, (2) to furnish readers
inspiration that may bear fruit in their own lives, (3) to give practical
guidance by showing how one individual has accomplished a certain thing.
Whether the aim is to afford food for thought, inspiration to action, or
guidance in practical matters, the treatment is essentially the same.
The recognized methods of describing
characters in fiction may be used to advantage in portraying real persons.
These are (1) using general descriptive terms, (2) describing personal
appearance, (3) telling of characteristic actions, (4) quoting their words,
(5) giving biographical facts, (6) citing opinions of others about them, (7)
showing how others react to them. By a judicious combination of several of
these methods, a writer can make his readers visualize the person, hear him
speak, watch him in characteristic actions, and understand his past life, as
well as realize what others think of him and how they act toward him.
Material for a personality sketch may be
obtained in one of three ways: (1) from a more or less intimate acquaintance
with the person to be described; (2) from an interview with the person,
supplemented by conversation with others about him; (3) from printed
sketches of him combined with information secured from others. It is easier
to write personality sketches about men and women whom we know well than it
is about those whom we have never met, or with whom we have had only a short
interview. Inexperienced writers should not attempt to prepare sketches of
persons whom they know but slightly. In a single interview a writer who is
observant, and who is a keen judge of human nature, may be able to get an
impression sufficiently strong to serve as the basis of a satisfactory
article, especially if the material obtained in the interview is
supplemented by printed sketches and by conversations with others.
Personality sketches sometimes include long interviews giving the person's
opinions on the subject on which he is an authority. In such articles the
sketch usually precedes the interview.
Examples of the Personality Sketch.
The first of the following sketches
appeared, with a half-tone portrait, in the department of "Interesting
People" in the American Magazine; the second was sent out by the
Newspaper Enterprise Association, Cleveland, Ohio, which supplies several
hundred daily newspapers with special features.
(1)
"Tommy"—Who Enjoys Straightening Out
ThingsBY SAMPSON RAPHAELSON
Six years ago a young Bulgarian
immigrant, dreamy-eyed and shabby, came to the University of Illinois
seeking an education. He inquired his way of a group of underclassmen and
they pointed out to him a large red building on the campus.
"Go there," they said gayly, "and ask
for Tommy."
He did, and when he was admitted to the
presence of Thomas Arkle Clark, Dean of Men, and addressed him in his
broken English as "Mis-terr Tommy," the dean did not smile. Although Mr.
Clark had just finished persuading an irascible father to allow his
reprobate sophomore son to stay at college, and although he was facing the
problem of advising an impetuous senior how to break an engagement with a
girl he no longer loved, he adapted himself to the needs and the
temperament of the foreigner instantly, sympathetically, and efficiently.
In five minutes the Bulgarian had a job,
knew what courses in English he ought to take, and was filled with a glow
of hope, inspiration, and security which only a genius in the art of
graciousness and understanding like "Tommy Arkle," as he is amiably called
by every student and alumnus of Illinois, can bestow.
This is a typical incident in the
extremely busy, richly human daily routine of the man who created the
office of Dean of Men in American universities. Slender, short,
well-dressed, his gray hair smartly parted, with kindly, clever, humorous
blue eyes and a smile that is an ecstasy of friendliness, "Tommy" sits
behind his big desk in the Administration Building from eight to five
every day and handles all of the very real troubles and problems of the
four thousand-odd men students at the University of Illinois.
He averages one hundred callers a day,
in addition to answering a heavy mail and attendance upon various
committee, board, and council meetings.
He is known all over the country as an authority on fraternities and their
influence, and a power for making that influence constantly better and
finer. In business, farmer, and school circles in the Middle West Mr.
Clark is famous for his whimsical, inspiring speeches. His quick,
shaft-like humor, his keen, devastating sarcasm, and his rare, resilient
sympathy have made him a personality beloved particularly by young
persons.
They still tell the story on the campus
of an ingenuous youngster who walked into the dean's office one fall, set
his suitcase on the floor, and drawing two one-dollar bills and a
fifty-cent piece from his pocket, laid the money on the big desk, saying:
"That's all the money I have. I've come
to work my way through. Will you help me to get a job?"
In a flash "Tommy" noted the boy's
eager, imaginative brown eyes, his wide, compact lips and strong jaw.
Reaching over, he took the two bills and pocketed them, leaving the
half-dollar.
"The traditional great men," said the
dean, "started their university careers with only fifty cents. I don't
want you to be handicapped, so I'll keep this two dollars. You can get
work at —— Green Street waiting on table for your meals, and the landlady
at —— Chalmers Street wants a student to fire her furnace in exchange for
room rent."
The boy earned his way successfully for
several months. Then suddenly he was taken sick. An operation was
necessary. Mr. Clark wired for a Chicago specialist and paid all expenses
out of his own pocket. The student recovered, and two years after he was
graduated sent "Tommy" a letter enclosing a check for five hundred
dollars. "To redeem my two dollars which you have in trust," the letter
said, "and please use the money as a medical fund for sick students who
need, but cannot afford, Chicago specialists."
The dean has an abnormal memory for
names and faces. Every year he makes a "rogues' gallery"—the photographs
of all incoming freshmen are taken and filed away. And many an humble,
unknown freshman has been exalted by the "Hello, Darby," or "Good morning,
Boschenstein"—or whatever his name happened to be—with which the dean
greeted him.
Mr. Clark once revealed to me the secret
of his life. Fifteen years ago he was professor of English and had strong
literary ambitions, with no little promise. There came the offer of the
office of Dean of Men. He had to choose between writing about peoples
lives or living those lives with people.
And he chose, with the result that at all times of the day and night it's
"Tommy this, and Tommy that"; an accident case may need him at two A.M. in
the hospital, or a crowd of roystering students may necessitate his
missing a night's sleep in order to argue an irate sheriff into the
conviction that they are not robbers and murderers. He has been known to
spend many evenings in the rooms of lonesome students who "need a friend."
"Tommy Arkle" is one of the Middle
West's finest contributions to the modern ideal of human service.
(2)
Two New Machine Guns are Invented for
the U.S. Army by the "Edison of Firearms"
BY HARRY B. HUNT
HARTFORD, CONN., NOV. 12.—"Well, Old J.M.
has done it again."
That is the chief topic of conversation
these days in the big shops of Hartford, New Haven and Bridgeport, where
the bulk of the rifles, pistols and machine guns for Uncle Sam's army is
being turned out.
For in these towns to say that "Old J.M.
has done it again" is the simplest and most direct way of stating that
John M. Browning has invented a new kind of firearm.
This time, however, "Old J.M." has done
it twice. He has invented not one, but two new guns. Both have been
accepted by the United States government, contracts for immense numbers of
each have been signed, and work of production is being pushed night and
day. The new weapons will be put into the field against Germany at the
earliest possible day.
Who is John Browning? You never heard of
him?
Well, Browning is the father of
rapid-fire and automatic firearms. His is the brain behind practically
every basic small firearm invention in the past 40 years. He has been to
the development of firearms what Edison has been to electricity.
"Unquestionably the greatest inventor of
firearms in the world," is the unanimous verdict of the gun experts of the
Colt, Remington and Winchester plants, whose business it is to study and
criticise every development in firearms.
But if Browning is our greatest gun
inventor, he is the most "gun-shy"
genius in the country when it comes to publicity. He would rather face a
machine gun than a reporter.
A few years ago a paper in his home
state—Utah—published a little story about his success as an inventor, and
the story was copied by the Hartford Courant.
"I'd rather have paid $1,000 cash than
have had that stuff printed," Browning says.
Friends, however, who believe that the
world should know something about this firearms wizard, furnish the
following sidelights on his career:
Browning comes from an old-stock Mormon
family of Ogden, Utah. As a young man he was a great hunter, going off
into the woods for a month or six weeks at a time, with only his gun for
company. He was only 24 when he worked out his ideas for a gun carrying a
magazine full of cartridges, which could be fired rapidly in succession.
He pounded out the parts for his first rapid-fire gun with hammer and cold
chisel.
Since that time, pump and "trombone"
shotguns, automatic pistols, rapid-fire rifles produced by the biggest
firearms manufacturers in the country have been Browning's products.
The United States army pistol is a
Browning invention.
A Browning pistol manufactured by the
Fabrique Nationale of Belgium was made the standard equipment for the
armies of Belgium, Russia, Spain, Italy and Serbia.
On completion of the one-millionth
pistol by the Fabrique Nationale, King Albert of Belgium knighted the
modest inventor, so he is now, officially, "Sir" John Browning.
Browning is tall, slender, slightly
stooped, 62, bald except for a rim of gray hair, and wears a closely
clipped gray moustache. His face is marked by a network of fine lines.
Although Browning will not talk of
himself or of his career as an inventor, he can't help talking when the
conversation is turned on guns.
"I always think of a gun as something
that is made primarily to shoot," he says. "The best gun is the simplest
gun. When you begin loading a gun up with a lot of fancy contraptions and
'safety devices,' you are only inviting trouble. You complicate the
mechanism and make that many more places for dirt and grit to clog the
action.
"You can make a gun so 'safe' that it
won't shoot."
Of Browning's new guns it is not, of
course, permissible to give any details. One, however, is a light
rapid-fire gun, weighing only 15
pounds, which can be fired from the shoulder like the ordinary rifle. Each
magazine carries 20 rounds and the empty magazine can be detached and
another substituted by pressing a button.
The heavier gun is a belt-fed machine,
capable of firing 600 shots a minute. Although it is water-cooled, it
weighs, water jacket and all, only 28 pounds. For airplane work, where the
firing is in bursts and the speed of the machine helps cool the gun, the
jacket is discarded and the gun weighs only 20 pounds.
Both guns are counted upon as valuable
additions to the equipment of our overseas forces.
The Narrative in the Third Person.
Although the interview, the personal experience article, and the confession
story are largely narrative, they are always told in the first person,
whereas the term "narrative article" as used in this classification is
applied only to a narrative in the third person. In this respect it is more
like the short story. As in the short story so in the narrative article,
description of persons, places, and objects involved serves to heighten the
effect.
Narrative methods may be employed to
present any group of facts that can be arranged in chronological order. A
process, for example, may be explained by showing a man or a number of men
engaged in the work involved, and by giving each step in the process as
though it were an incident in a story. The story of an invention or a
discovery may be told from the inception of the idea to its realization. A
political situation may be explained by relating the events that led up to
it. The workings of some institution, such as an employment office or a
juvenile court, may be made clear by telling just what takes place in it on
a typical occasion. Historical and biographical material can best be
presented in narrative form.
Suspense, rapid action, exciting
adventure, vivid description, conversation, and all the other devices of the
short story may be introduced into narrative articles to increase the
interest and strengthen the impression. Whenever, therefore, material can be
given a narrative form it is very
desirable to do so. A writer, however, must guard against exaggeration and
the use of fictitious details.
Examples of the Narrative Article.
How narration with descriptive touches and conversation may be effectively
used to explain a new institution like the community kitchen, or the methods
of recruiting employed in the army, is shown in the two articles below. The
first was taken from the New York World, and the second from the
Outlook.
(1)
NOW THE PUBLIC KITCHEN
BY MARIE COOLIDGE RASK
The Community Kitchen Menu
| The Community Kitchen Menu |
| Vegetable soup |
pint, 3¢ |
| Beef stew |
half pint, 4¢ |
| Baked beans |
half pint, 3¢ |
| Two frankfurters, one potato and cup full of boiled
cabbage |
all for 7¢ |
| Rice pudding, |
3¢ |
| Stewed peaches |
3¢ |
| Coffee or cocoa with milk |
half pint, 3¢ |
"My mother wants three cents' worth of
vegetable soup."
"And mine wants enough beef stew for
three of us."
Two battered tin pails were handed up by
small, grimy fingers. Two eager little faces were upturned toward the top
of the bright green counter which loomed before them. Two pairs of roguish
eyes smiled back at the woman who reached over the counter and took the
pails.
"The beef stew will be twelve cents,"
she said. "It is four cents for each half pint, you know."
"I know," answered the youth. "My mother
says when she has to buy the meat and all and cook it and put a quarter in
the gas meter, it's cheaper to get it here. My father got his breakfast
here, too, and it only cost him five cents."
"And was he pleased?" asked the woman,
carefully lowering the filled pail to the outstretched little hand.
"You
bet," chuckled the lad, as he turned and followed the little procession
down the length of the room and out through the door on the opposite side.
The woman was Mrs. William K.
Vanderbilt, jr.
The boy was the son of a 'longshoreman
living on "Death Avenue," in close proximity to the newly established
People's Kitchen, situated on the southeast corner of Tenth Avenue and
West Twenty-seventh Street, New York.
So it is here at last—the much talked
of, long hoped for, community kitchen.
Within three days after its doors had
been opened to the public more than 1,100 persons had availed themselves
of its benefits. Within three years, it is promised, the community kitchen
will have become national in character. Its possibilities for development
are limitless.
Way was blazed for the pioneer kitchen
by Edward F. Brown, executive secretary of the New York school lunch
committee.
The active power behind the cauldrons of
soup, cabbage and frankfurters, beans and rice pudding is vested in Mrs.
James A. Burden, jr., and Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, jr.
The evolution of the community kitchen
is going to be of interest to every housewife and to every wage earner in
all classes of society.
First of all, let it be distinctly
understood that the kitchen as inaugurated is not a charity. It is social
and philanthropic in character, and it will ultimately reduce the cost of
living by almost 50 per cent. This much has been demonstrated already to
the extent that the Tenth Avenue kitchen has not only paid expenses, but
has so overrun its confines that plans are in preparation for the
establishment of other and larger kitchens in rapid succession.
The object is to give to the purchaser
the maximum quantity of highest grade food, properly cooked, at minimum
cost. This cost includes rent, light, heat, power, interest on investment,
depreciation, cost of food materials, labor and supervision. The principle
is that of barter and sale on an equitable business basis.
The project as now formulated is to
establish for immediate use a small group of public kitchens having one
central depot. This depot will be in constant operation throughout the
twenty-four hours. Here the food will be prepared and distributed to the
smaller kitchens where, by means of steam tables, it can be kept hot and
dispensed. The character of the food to be supplied each
district will be chosen with regard to what the population is accustomed
to, that which is simple and wholesome, which contains bulk, can be
prepared at minimum cost, can be conveniently dispensed and easily carried
away.
Opposite a large school building, in a
small room that had been at one time a saloon, the kitchen of the century
was fitted up and formally opened to the public.
Three long green tables with green
painted benches beside them encircle the room on two sides. Their use was
manifest the second day after the kitchen was opened.
At 4 o'clock in the morning, from
various tenement homes near by, sturdy 'longshoremen and laborers might
have been seen plodding silently from their respective homes, careful not
to disturb their wives and families, and heading straight for the new
kitchen on the corner. From trains running along "Death Avenue" came
blackened trainmen after their night's work. They, too, stopped at the
corner kitchen. By the time the attendant arrived to unlock the doors
forty men were in line waiting for breakfast.
Ten minutes later the three tables were
fully occupied.
"Bread, cereal and coffee for five
cents!" exclaimed one of the men, pushing the empty tray from him, after
draining the last drop of coffee in his mug. "This kitchen's all right."
Noon came. The children from the school
building trooped in.
"My mamma works in a factory," said one.
"I used to get some cakes at a bakery at noontime. Gee! There's raisins in
this rice puddin', ain't there?" He carried the saucerful of pudding over
to the table. "Only three cents," he whispered to the little girl beside
him. "You better get some, too. That'll leave you two cents for a cup of
cocoa."
"Ain't it a cinch!" exclaimed the little
girl.
Behind the counter the women who had
made these things possible smiled happily and dished out pudding, beans
and soup with generous impartiality. The daughter of Mrs. Vanderbilt
appeared.
"I'm hungry, mother," she cried. "I'll
pay for my lunch."
"You'll have to serve yourself," was the
rejoinder of the busy woman with the tin pail in her hand. "There's a tray
at the end of the counter—but don't get in the way."
So rich and poor lunched together.
"Oh, but I'm tired!" exclaimed a woman,
who, satchel in hand, entered, late in the afternoon, "It's hard to go
home and cook after canvassing all day.
Will you mind if I eat supper here?"
Then the women and children poured in
with pails and dishes and pans.
"We're getting used to it now," said
one. "It's just like a store, you know, and it saves us a lot of work—"
"And expense! My land!" cried another.
"Why, my man has only been working half time, and the pennies count when
you've got children to feed and clothe. When I go to work by the day it's
little that's cooked at home. Now—" She presented a dish as the line moved
along. "Beef stew for four," she ordered, "and coffee in this pitcher,
here."
(2)
GATHERING IN THE RAW RECRUIT
BY KINGSLEY MOSES
Men Wanted for the United States Army
A tall, gaunt farmer boy with a very
dirty face and huge gnarled hands stood open-mouthed before the brilliant
poster displayed before the small-town recruiting office. In his rather
dull mind he pictured himself as he would look, straight and dignified, in
the khaki uniform, perhaps even with the three stripes of the sergeant on
his arm.
"Fifteen dollars a month," he thought to
himself, "and board and clothes and lodgings and doctor's bills. Why,
that's more than I'm gettin' now on the farm! I'd see the world; I might
even get to learn a regular trade." He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, I ain't gettin' nowhere now, that's sure," he concluded, and slowly
climbed the stairs.
This boy had not come to his decision in
a moment. His untrained but thoroughly honest mind worked slowly. He had
been pondering the opportunities of army life for many weeks. The idea had
come to him by chance, he thought.
Over a month ago he had been plowing the
lower forty of Old Man Huggins's farm. The road to the mountains lay along
one side of the field, and as the boy turned and started to plow his
furrow toward the road he noticed that a motor cycle had stopped just
beyond the fence. "Broke down," the boy commented to
himself, as he saw the tan-clad rider dismounting. Over the mule's huge
back he watched as he drew nearer. "Why, the rider was in uniform; he must
be a soldier!"
Sure enough, when the fence was reached
the boy saw that the stranger was dressed in the regulation khaki of Uncle
Sam, with the U.S. in block letters at the vent of the collar and two
stripes on the left sleeve.
"Broke down?" the boy queried, dropping
his plow-handles.
The corporal grunted and continued to
potter with the machine.
"You in the army?" the boy continued,
leaning on the fence.
"You bet!" assented the soldier. Then,
looking up and taking in the big, raw-boned physique of the youngster,
"Ever think of joinin'?"
"Can't say's I did."
"Got any friends in the army?"
"Nope."
"Fine life." The motor cycle was
attracting little of the recruiting officer's attention now, for he was a
recruiting officer, and engaged in one of the most practical phases of his
work.
"Them soldiers have a pretty easy life,
don't they?" Evidently the boy was becoming interested.
The recruiting officer laid down his
tools, pulled out a pipe, and sat down comfortably under a small sycamore
tree at the roadside.
"Not so very easy," he replied, "but
interesting and exciting." He paused for a minute to scrutinize the
prospective recruit more closely. To his experienced eye the boy appeared
desirable. Slouchy, dirty, and lazy-looking, perhaps; but there were
nevertheless good muscles and a strong body under those ragged overalls.
The corporal launched into his story.
For twenty minutes the boy listened
open-mouthed to the stories of post life, where baseball, football, and
boxing divided the time with drilling; of mess-halls where a fellow could
eat all he wanted to, free; of good-fellowship and fraternal pride in the
organization; of the pleasant evenings in the amusement rooms in quarters.
And then of the life of the big world, of which the boy had only dreamed;
of the Western plains, of Texas, the snowy ridges of the great Rockies,
New York, Chicago, San Francisco, the Philippines, Hawaii, the strange
glamour of the tropics, the great wildernesses of the frozen North.
"It seems 'most like as I'd like to
join," was the timid venture.
"What's your name?"
"Steve Bishop."
"All right, Steve, come in and see me
the next time you're in town," said the corporal, rising. "We'll talk it
over."
And, mounting his motor cycle, he was
gone down the road in a whirl of red dust. Nor did the farmer boy think to
wonder at the sudden recovery of the apparently stalled machine.
"Missionary work," explains the
corporal. "We never beg 'em to join; but we do sort of give 'em the idea.
Like joinin' the Masons, you know," he winked, giving me the grip.
So it happened that Steve Bishop mounted
the stairs that day, resolved to join the army if they would take him.
In the small, bare, but immaculately
clean room at the head of the stairs he found his friend the corporal
banging away at a typewriter. "How are you, Steve? Glad to see you," was
the welcome. "Sit down a minute, and we'll talk."
The soldier finished his page, lit his
pipe again, and leisurely swung round in his chair.
"Think you'll like to soldier with us?"
he said.
Unconsciously the boy appreciated the
compliment; it was flattering to be considered on a basis of equality with
this clean-cut, rugged man of the wide world.
"I reckon so," he replied, almost
timidly.
"Well, how old are you, Steve?"
"Twenty-one." The corporal nodded
approval. That was all right, then; no tedious formality of securing
signed permission from parent or guardian was necessary.
Then began a string of personal
questions as to previous employment, education, details of physical
condition, moral record (for the army will have no ex-jailbirds), etc.,
and finally the question, "Why do you want to join?"
"They don't know why I ask that," says
the corporal, "but I have a mighty good reason. From the way a boy answers
I can decide which branch of the service he ought to be connected with. If
he wants to be a soldier just for travel and adventure, I advise the
infantry or the cavalry; but if he seriously wants to learn and study, I
recommend him to the coast artillery or the engineers."
Then comes the physical examination, a
vigorous but not exacting course of sprouts designed to find out if the
applicant is capable of violent exertion and to discover any minor
weaknesses; an examination of eyes, ears, teeth, and nose; and, finally, a
cursory scrutiny for functional disorders.
"I'll take you, Steve," the corporal
finally says. "In about a week we'll send you to the barracks."
"But what am I goin' to do till then? I
ain't got a cent."
"Don't worry about that. You'll eat and
sleep at Mrs. Barrows's,"—naming a good, clean boarding-house in the town,
the owner of which has a yearly contract with the Government to take care
of just such embryo recruits; "in the daytime you can hang around town,
and the police won't bother you if you behave yourself. If they call you
for loafin' tell them you're waitin' to get into the army."
In a week the district recruiting
officer, a young lieutenant, drops in on his regular circuit. The men who
have been accepted by the non-commissioned officer are put through their
paces again, and so expert is the corporal in judging good material that
none of Steve's group of eight are rejected.
"All right," says the corporal when the
lieutenant has gone; "here's your tickets to the training station at
Columbus, Ohio, and twenty-eight cents apiece for coffee on the way. In
these boxes you'll find four big, healthy lunches for each one of you.
That'll keep you until you get to Columbus."
One of the new recruits is given charge
of the form ticket issued by the railway expressly for the Government; is
told that when meal-time comes he can get off the train with the others
and for fifty cents buy a big pail of hot coffee for the bunch at the
station lunch-room. Then the corporal takes them all down to the train,
tells them briefly but plainly what is expected in the way of conduct from
a soldier, and winds up with the admonition: "And, boys, remember this
first of all; the first duty of a soldier is this: do what you're told to
do, do it without question, and do it quick. Good-bye."
In twenty-four hours Steve and his
companions are at the training station, have taken the oath of allegiance,
and are safely and well on their way to full membership in the family of
Uncle Sam.
Value of a Plan. Just as a builder
would hesitate to erect a house without a carefully worked-out plan, so a
writer should be loath to begin an article before he has outlined it fully.
In planning a building, an architect considers how large a house his client
desires, how many rooms he must provide, how the space available may best be
apportioned among the rooms, and what relation the rooms are to bear to one
another. In outlining an article, likewise, a writer needs to determine how
long it must be, what material it should include, how much space should be
devoted to each part, and how the parts should be arranged. Time spent in
thus planning an article is time well spent.
Outlining the subject fully involves
thinking out the article from beginning to end. The value of each item of
the material gathered must be carefully weighed; its relation to the whole
subject and to every part must be considered. The arrangement of the parts
is of even greater importance, because much of the effectiveness of the
presentation will depend upon a logical development of the thought. In the
last analysis, good writing means clear thinking, and at no stage in the
preparation of an article is clear thinking more necessary than in the
planning of it.
Amateurs sometimes insist that it is
easier to write without an outline than with one. It undoubtedly does take
less time to dash off a special feature story than it does to think out all
of the details and then write it. In nine cases out of ten, however, when a
writer attempts to work out an article as he goes along, trusting that his
ideas will arrange themselves, the result is far from a clear, logical,
well-organized presentation of his subject. The common disinclination to
make an outline is usually based on the difficulty
that most persons experience in
deliberately thinking about a subject in all its various aspects, and in
getting down in logical order the results of such thought. Unwillingness to
outline a subject generally means unwillingness to think.
The Length of an Article. The
length of an article is determined by two considerations: the scope of the
subject, and the policy of the publication for which it is intended. A large
subject cannot be adequately treated in a brief space, nor can an important
theme be disposed of satisfactorily in a few hundred words. The length of an
article, in general, should be proportionate to the size and the importance
of the subject.
The deciding factor, however, in fixing
the length of an article is the policy of the periodical for which it is
designed. One popular publication may print articles from 4000 to 6000
words, while another fixes the limit at 1000 words. It would be quite as bad
judgment to prepare a 1000-word article for the former, as it would be to
send one of 5000 words to the latter. Periodicals also fix certain limits
for articles to be printed in particular departments. One monthly magazine,
for instance, has a department of personality sketches which range from 800
to 1200 words in length, while the other articles in this periodical contain
from 2000 to 4000 words.
The practice of printing a column or two
of reading matter on most of the advertising pages influences the length of
articles in many magazines. To obtain an attractive make-up, the editors
allow only a page or two of each special article, short story, or serial to
appear in the first part of the magazine, relegating the remainder to the
advertising pages. Articles must, therefore, be long enough to fill a page
or two in the first part of the periodical and several columns on the pages
of advertising. Some magazines use short articles, or "fillers," to furnish
the necessary reading matter on these advertising pages.
Newspapers of the usual size, with from
1000 to 1200 words in a column, have greater flexibility than magazines in
the matter of make-up, and can, therefore, use special
feature stories of various lengths. The
arrangement of advertisements, even in the magazine sections, does not
affect the length of articles. The only way to determine exactly the
requirements of different newspapers and magazines is to count the words in
typical articles in various departments.
Selection and Proportion. After
deciding on the length of his article, the writer should consider what main
points he will be able to develop in the allotted space. His choice will be
guided by his purpose in writing the article. "Is this point essential to
the accomplishment of my aim?" is the test he should apply. Whatever is
non-essential must be abandoned, no matter how attractive it may be. Having
determined upon the essential topics, he next proceeds to estimate their
relative value for the development of his theme, so that he may give to each
one the space and the prominence that are proportionate to its importance.
Arrangement of Material. The
order in which to present the main topics requires thoughtful study. A
logical development of a subject by which the reader is led, step by step,
from the first sentence to the last in the easiest and most natural way, is
the ideal arrangement. An article should march right along from beginning to
end, without digressing or marking time. The straight line, in writing as in
drawing, is the shortest distance between two points.
In narration the natural order is
chronological. To arouse immediate interest, however, a writer may at times
deviate from this order by beginning with a striking incident and then going
back to relate the events that led up to it. This method of beginning in
medias res is a device well recognized in fiction. In exposition the
normal order is to proceed from the known to the unknown, to dovetail the
new facts into those already familiar to the reader.
When a writer desires by his article to
create certain convictions in the minds of his readers, he should consider
the arrangement best calculated to lead them to form such conclusions. The
most telling effects are produced, not by stating his own conclusions as
strongly as possible, but rather by
skillfully inducing his readers to reach those conclusions by what they
regard as their own mental processes. That is, if readers think that the
convictions which they have reached are their own, and were not forced upon
them, their interest in these ideas is likely to be much deeper and more
lasting. It is best, therefore, to understate conclusions or to omit them
entirely. In all such cases the writer's aim in arranging his material
should be to direct his readers' train of thought so that, after they have
finished the last sentence, they will inevitably form the desired
conclusion.
With the main topics arranged in the
best possible order, the writer selects from his available material such
details as he needs to amplify each point. Examples, incidents, statistics,
and other particulars he jots down under each of the chief heads. The
arrangement of these details, in relation both to the central purpose and to
each other, requires some consideration, for each detail must have its
logical place in the series. Having thus ordered his material according to a
systematic plan, he has before him a good working outline to guide him in
writing.
Planning a Typical Article. The
process of gathering, evaluating, and organizing material may best be shown
by a concrete example. The publication in a New York paper of a news story
to the effect that the first commencement exercises were about to be held in
the only factory school ever conducted in the city, suggested to a special
feature writer the possibility of preparing an article on the work of the
school. To obtain the necessary material, he decided to attend the exercises
and to interview both the principal of the school and the head of the
factory. In thinking over the subject beforehand, he jotted down these
points upon which to secure data: (1) the origin and the purpose of the
school; (2) its relation to the work of the factory; (3) the methods of
instruction; (4) the kind of pupils and the results accomplished for them;
(5) the cost of the school; (6) its relation to the public school system. At
the close of the graduation exercises, he secured the
desired interviews with the teacher in
charge and with the head of the firm, copied typical examples from the
exhibition of the pupils' written work, and jotted down notes on the
decoration and furnishing of the schoolroom. Since the commencement
exercises had been reported in the newspapers, he decided to refer to them
only incidentally in his story.
After considering the significance of
the work of the school and what there was about it that would appeal to
different classes of readers, he decided to write his story for the magazine
section of the New York newspaper that he believed was most generally read
by business men who operated factories similar to the one described. His
purpose he formulated thus: "I intend to show how illiterate immigrant girls
can be transformed quickly into intelligent, efficient American citizens by
means of instruction in a factory school; this I wish to do by explaining
what has been accomplished in this direction by one New York factory." He
hoped that his article would lead readers to encourage the establishment of
similar schools as a means of Americanizing alien girls. The expository type
of article containing concrete examples, description, and interviews he
concluded to adopt as the form best suited to his subject.
The average length of the special
feature stories, in the magazine section of the paper to which he intended
to submit the article, proved to be about 2000 words. In order to accomplish
his purpose in an article of this length, he selected five main topics to
develop: (1) the reasons that led the firm to establish the school; (2) the
results obtained; (3) the methods of instruction; (4) the cost of the
school; (5) the schoolroom and its equipment.
"What part of my material will make the
strongest appeal to the readers of this newspaper?" was the question he
asked himself, in order to select the best point with which to begin his
article. The feature that would attract the most attention, he believed, was
the striking results obtained by the school in a comparatively short time.
In reviewing the several types of
beginnings to determine which would best suit the presentation of these
remarkable results, he found two possibilities: first, the summary lead with
a striking statement for the first sentence; and second, a concrete example
of the results as shown by one of the pupils. He found, however, that he did
not have sufficient data concerning any one girl to enable him to tell the
story of her transformation as an effective concrete case. He determined,
therefore, to use a striking statement as the feature of a summary lead.
From his interview with the head of the
firm, and from a formal statement of the purpose of the school printed on
the commencement program, he obtained the reasons why the school had been
established. These he decided to give verbatim in direct quotation
form.
To show most interestingly the results
of the teaching, he picked out four of the six written exercises that he had
copied from those exhibited on the walls of the schoolroom. The first of
these dealt with American history, the second with thrift and business
methods, and the third with personal hygiene. For the fourth he selected the
work of a woman of forty whose struggles to get into the school and to learn
to write the teacher had described to him.
Figures on the cost of the school he had
secured from the head of the firm according to his preliminary plan. These
covered the expense both to the employers and to the city.
His description of the schoolroom he
could base on his own observation, supplemented by the teacher's
explanations.
For his conclusion he determined to
summarize the results of this experiment in education as the firm stated
them on the commencement program, and to give his own impression of the
success of the school. Thus he sought to give final reinforcement to the
favorable impression of the school that he wished his article to create,
with the aim of leading readers to reach the conclusion that such schools
should be encouraged as invaluable aids to the Americanization of alien
girls.
Outlining the Article. Having
selected the main topics and having decided in a general way how he intended
to develop each one, he then fixed upon the best order in which to present
them.
After his introduction giving the
striking results of the school in a summary lead, it seemed logical to
explain the firm's purpose in undertaking this unusual enterprise. He
accordingly jotted down for his second topic, "Purpose in establishing the
school," with the two sub-topics, "Firm's statement on program" and "Head of
firm's statement in interview."
The methods of-instruction by which the
remarkable success was attained, impressed him as the next important point.
His readers, having learned the results and the purpose of the school, would
naturally want to know by what methods these girls had been transformed in
so short a time. As his third topic, therefore, he put down, "Methods of
instruction."
For his fourth division he had to choose
between (1) the results as shown by the pupils' written work, (2) the cost
of the school, and (3) the schoolroom and its equipment. From the point of
view of logical order either the results or the schoolroom might have been
taken up next, but, as all the explanations of the methods of instruction
were quoted directly in the words of the teacher, and as the pupils'
exercises were to be given verbatim, he thought it best to place his
own description of the schoolroom between these two quoted parts. Greater
variety, he foresaw, would result from such an arrangement. "The
schoolroom," then, became the fourth topic.
Since the pupils' work which he planned
to reproduce had been exhibited on the walls of the schoolroom, the
transition from the description of the room to the exhibits on the walls was
an easy and logical one.
By this process of elimination, the cost
of the school became the sixth division, to be followed by the summary
conclusion.
He then proceeded to fill in the details
needed to develop each of these main
topics, always keeping his general purpose in mind. The result of this
organization of material was the following outline:
I.
Summary lead
1. Striking results—time required
2. Commencement—when and where held
3. Graduates—number, nationality,
certificates
4. School—when and where established
5. Example to other firms
II. Purpose of school
1. Firm's statement on commencement
program
2. Head of firm's statement in interview
III. Methods of instruction
1. Practical education
2. Letter writing—geography, postal
regulations, correspondence
3. Arithmetic—money, expense accounts,
reports of work
4. Civics—history, biography, holidays,
citizenship, patriotism
5. Personal hygiene—cleanliness, physical
culture, first aid, food
6. Cotton goods—growing cotton, spinning,
shipping
7. Means of communication—telephone,
directory, map of city, routes of travel, telephone book
8. Study outside of classroom
IV. The schoolroom
1. Location—floor space, windows
2. Decorations—flowers, motto, photograph
of Miss Jessie Wilson
3. Furnishings—piano, phonograph
4. Library—reading to the girls, The
Promised Land, Mary Antin, library cards
V. Results shown by pupils' work
1. Italian's theme and her remarkable
progress
2. Russian's essay on saving
3. Polish girl's exercise about picture
4. Woman of forty and her work
VI. Cost of school
1.
Expense to firm
2. Cost to Board of Education—salaries and
supplies
3. Entire cost per pupil
4. Returns to firm outweigh cost, says
employer
VII. Summary conclusion
1. Results quoted from program
2. Impression made by girls receiving
diplomas
The Completed Article. Since the
establishment of a school in a factory was the novel feature of the
enterprise, he worked out a title based on this idea, with a sub-title
presenting the striking results accomplished by the school. The completed
article follows, with a brief analysis of the methods used in developing the
outline.
| How Alien Girls are being Changed
into Intelligent American Workers by Instruction during Working Hours |
| In from twenty to thirty-five weeks an
illiterate immigrant girl can be transformed into an intelligent,
efficient American citizen, in this city, without interfering with the
daily work by which she earns her living. Only forty-five minutes a
day in a factory schoolroom is required to accomplish such striking
results. |
I. SUMMARY LEAD 1. Striking results
Striking statement in two sentence to avoid unwieldy sentence.
|
| This has just been demonstrated at the
first commencement of the only school conducted in a New York factory.
The classes have been held on one of the upper floors of the white
goods factory of D. E. Sicher & Co., 49 West 21st Street, where the
graduation exercises were held last Thursday evening. |
2. Commencement Timeliness brought out immediately after striking
statement
Address has local interest
|
| Forty girls—Italians, Poles, Russians,
Hungarians, Austrians among the number—received the first
"certificates of literacy" ever issued by the Board of Education.
Twenty weeks ago many of these young women could not speak English;
many of them had never been to school a day in their lives. Every one
present on Thursday night felt that this was indeed a commencement for
these girls. |
3. Graduates Note concrete details
Striking results emphasized by device of contrast
Impression on audience of remarkable results
|
| It is due to the instruction of Miss
Florence Meyers, formerly a public school teacher, that the girls can
now speak English, write good letters, make out money-orders, cash
checks, and send telegrams. They have also been taught the principles
of our government, the importance of personal hygiene, and the
processes by which cotton goods used in their work are manufactured. |
Teacher's name has local interest Additional concrete details of
striking results
|
| The school was organized this year at
the suggestion of Dudley E. Sicher, head of the firm, in coöperation
with the Board of Education, and has been under the supervision of
Miss Lizzie E. Rector, Public School No. 4, Manhattan. |
4. School Principal and school have local interest.
|
| What has been accomplished in this
factory, which is the largest white goods muslin underwear plant in
the world, will doubtless serve as an example to be followed by other
firms. |
5. Example to other firms Veiled suggestion to readers
|
| Its purpose the firm expresses in these
words: "To hasten assimilation necessary to national unity, to promote
industrial betterment, by reducing the friction caused by failure to
comprehend directions, and to decrease the waste and loss of wage
incidental to the illiterate worker." |
II. PURPOSE OF SCHOOL 1. Firm's statement
Statement in general terms
|
| "When a girl understands English and has
been taught American business and factory methods," says Mr. Sicher,
"she doesn't hesitate and blunder; she understands what she is told
and she does it. |
2. Head of firm's statement
|
| "Intelligent employees do much better
work than illiterate ones, and since we can afford to pay them better
wages, they are much more contented. From a business point of view,
the school is a good investment." |
Statement in concrete terms
|
| The instruction that has accomplished
such remarkable results has been eminently practical. "There was no
time to spend in teaching the girls anything but the most necessary
things," explains Miss Meyers, "for I could have each one of them for
only forty-five minutes a day, and there was much to be done in that
time. |
III. METHODS OF INSTRUCTION 1. Practical education
Teacher's statement of her problem
|
| "Here was a girl, for example, who could
hardly say 'good morning.' Here was another who had never written a
word in her life, either in English or in any other language. The
problem was how to give each of them what she most needed in the short
time allotted every day. This essentially practical training I
organized under several subjects, each of which was broadly inclusive. |
Problem concretely shown Statement of general plan
|
| "When I undertook to teach letter
writing, it meant teaching the English language, as well as writing
and spelling. It meant teaching the geography of the country, the
postal regulations, and the forms of business and personal
correspondence. |
2. Letter writing
|
| "In teaching arithmetic, I use money and
show them how to make change by means of addition, subtraction, and
division. I also ask them to keep personal expense accounts and to
make out reports of the work that they do. |
3. Arithmetic
|
| "Civics included American history, the
lives of our statesmen—for these girls are so eager to be true
Americans that they want to know about our great men—the origin of
legal holidays, the merits of our system of government, the meaning of
citizenship, and the essence of patriotism. |
4. Civics
|
| "Hygiene is another important subject.
American standards of living, personal cleanliness, and sanitary
regulations have to be emphasized. To aid in counteracting the effects
of long hours at the sewing machines, we have physical culture
exercises. Instruction in first aid measures is also given so that
they will know what to do in case of an accident. The nutritive value
of different foods in relation to their cost is discussed to enable
them to maintain their health by a proper diet. |
5. Personal hygiene
|
| "As these young women are engaged in
making muslin underwear, it seemed desirable for them to know where
cotton grows, how it is spun, where the mills are and how it is
shipped to New York. After they understand the various processes
through which the material goes before it reaches them, they take much
more interest in their work, as a part of the manufacture of cotton
goods into clothing." |
6. Cotton goods
|
| The use of the telephone, the telegraph,
the subway, surface lines, and railways is another subject of
instruction. A dummy 'phone, telegraph blanks, the city directory,
maps with routes of rapid transit lines, and the telephone book, are
some of the practical laboratory apparatus and textbooks that are
employed. |
7. Means of communication Method of presentation in this paragraph
changed for variety
|
| "We encourage them to learn for
themselves outside of school hours many of the necessary things that
we have not time for in the classroom," says the teacher. |
8. Study outside of classroom
|
| To reach the schoolroom in which this
work has been carried on, you take the elevator to the last floor but
one of the factory building. There you find only a portion of the
floor space cleared for tables and chairs. It is a clean, airy room
with big windows opening on the street, made gay with boxes of
flowers. |
IV. THE SCHOOLROOM 1. Location
Note effect of using "you"
|
| Flags of many nations about the room
appropriately represent the many nationalities among the pupils. On
one wall hangs a card with the legend:
Four things come not back:
The spoken word
The sped arrow
The past life
The neglected opportunity.
|
2. Decorations Note character of decorations selected
|
| A photograph of Miss Jessie Wilson, now
Mrs. Francis B. Sayre, occupies the space between the two windows. The
picture was presented to the girls by Miss Wilson herself, just before
she was married, when a party of them with Miss Meyers went to
Washington to give her a white petticoat they had made themselves, as
a wedding present. After Miss Wilson had shown them through the White
House and they had seen her wedding presents, she gave them this
signed photograph. |
This shows enterprising spirit on the part of teacher, girls, and
firm
|
| A piano and a phonograph at one end of
the room make it possible for the girls to enjoy dancing during the
noon hours on three days of the week, and to have musicals on other
occasions. |
3.Furnishings
|
| Shelves filled with books line the walls
of a smaller office room opening off the schoolroom. On two days of
the week during the noon hour, the teacher read aloud to the girls
until they were able to read for themselves. Then they were permitted
to take books home with them. Besides this, they have been encouraged
to use the public libraries, after being shown how to make out
applications for library cards. |
4.Library
|
| "One girl is reading 'The Promised
Land,' by Mary Antin," Miss Meyers tells you, "and thinks it is a
wonderful book. She was so much interested in it that I asked her to
tell the others about it. Although a little shy at first, she soon
forgot herself in her eagerness to relate Miss Antin's experiences.
She told the story with such dramatic effect that she quite carried
away her classmates. If we had done no more than to teach this girl to
read a book that meant so much to her, I believe our school would have
justified its existence." |
Concrete example has "human interest," as related in the teacher's
own words
|
| Mary Antin herself accepted the girls'
invitation to attend the graduation exercises, and made a short
address. |
Is this paragraph out of logical order?
|
| The pupils' written work was exhibited
on the walls of the room on the occasion of the exercises, and showed
conclusively the proficiency that they have attained. |
V. RESULTS SHOWN BY PUPILS' WORK
|
| The greatest progress made by any of the
pupils was probably that of an Italian girl. Before coming to this
country, she had attended school and besides this she had been
teaching her father at night whatever she had learned during the day.
Her short essay on her adopted country read: |
1. Italian's theme and progress Example of greatest progress is
put first
|
|
This country is the United States of America. It is the land of
freedom and liberty, because the people govern themselves. All
citizens love their country, because they know that this freedom was
earned by men who gave their lives for it. The United States is in
North America. North America is one of the greatest divisions of the
earth. North America was discovered on October 12, 1492, by
Christopher Columbus.
|
Note use of narrow measure without quotation marks for examples
quoted
|
| The fact that Columbus, one of her
countrymen, had discovered the country in which she and her father had
found a new life, doubtless appealed to her keen imagination. |
Is this comment by the writer effective?
|
That a Russian girl appreciated the
lessons she had received in the value of opening a dime-savings
account, is indicated by this composition:
I must save money out of my earnings to put in the bank. I know that
money is safe in the bank. To deposit means to put money in the
bank.
Cashing a cheque means changing a cheque for money.
|
2. Russian's essay on saving
|
| How practical lessons in personal
hygiene may be emphasized in connection with the teaching of
composition was illustrated in an essay of a Polish girl written under
a picture of a woman combing her hair: |
3. Polish girl's essay
|
She wished to comb her hair. She takes the comb in her hand.
She combs her hair.
She wishes to brush her hair.
She takes the brush in her hand.
She brushes her hair.
She combs and brushes her hair every morning.
She washes her hair often with soap and water.
|
|
| The pathetic eagerness of one woman of
forty to learn to read and write was told by Miss Meyers in connection
with one of the pieces of work exhibited. |
4. Woman of forty and her work
|
| "She was an old woman; at least she
seems to me to be over fifty, although she gave her age as only
forty," explained the teacher. "She couldn't read or even write her
name. Despite her age, she begged for a long time to be permitted to
enter the school, but there were so many young girls who desired to
learn that they were given the preference. She pleaded so hard that
finally I asked to have her admitted on trial." |
"Human interest" appeal heightened by quoting teacherverbatim
|
| "It was hard work to teach her,"
continued Miss Meyers as she pointed to some of the woman's writing.
The first attempts were large, irregular letters that sprawled over
the sheet like the work of a child when it begins to write. After
twenty weeks of struggle, her work took on a form that, although still
crude, was creditable for one who had never written until she was over
forty. "Her joy at her success was great enough to repay me many times
over for my efforts to teach her," remarked Miss Meyers. |
Progress in penmanship could not be shown by quoting exercise
|
| The exact cost to the firm of conducting
the school, including the wages paid for the time spent by the girls
in the classroom, has been itemized by Mr. Sicher for the year just
closed, as follows: |
VI. COST OF SCHOOL 1. Expense to firm
|
| Floor space |
$175.00 |
| Rent, light, and heat |
105.00 |
| Janitor |
357.00 |
| Wages at 17¢ an hr., 40 girls |
375.00 |
| Total cost, 40 girls |
$672.00 |
| Total cost per girl |
16.80 |
|
Short table of figures is comprehensible and not uninteresting
|
| The Board of Education, for its part of
the school, paid out $560 for the teacher's salary and for supplies.
This was an expense of $14.80 for each pupil. |
2. Cost to Board of Education
|
| The entire cost for educating each one
of the forty girl workers, therefore, was only $31.60. |
3. Entire cost per pupil
|
| That this money has been well spent is
the opinion of the employer, for the school work increases the
efficiency in the factory sufficiently to make up for the time taken
out of working hours. |
4. Returns outweigh cost
|
| "I would rather have these girls in my
employ whom I can afford to pay from ten to twenty dollars a week,"
declares Mr. Sicher, "than many more whom I have to pay low wages
simply because they aren't worth higher ones. From a business point of
view, it saves space and space is money." |
Head of firm's statement given to convince readers
|
| That the result has been what the firm
had anticipated in establishing the school is shown by the following
statement which was made on the commencement program: "It is the
present belief of the firm that the workers who have been thus trained
have gained from 20 to 70 per cent in efficiency." |
VII. SUMMARY CONCLUSION 1. Results quoted from program
Note appeal of "efficiency" to practical readers
|
| How much the girls themselves have
gained more vital to them even than efficiency was very evident to
everyone who looked into their faces as they received the certificates
that recognize them as "Literate American Citizens." |
2. Impression given by girls Note patriotic appeal in closing
phrase, which was a happy choice.
|
Another Article on the Same Subject.
This commencement at the factory school furnished another writer, Nixola
Greeley Smith, with material for a special feature story which was sent out
by a syndicate, the Newspaper Enterprise Association, for publication in
several hundred newspapers. Her story contains only 375 words and is thus
less than one fifth the length of the other article. The author centers the
interest in one of the pupils, and shows the value of the school in terms of
this girl's experience. The girl's own account of what the school has meant
to her makes a strong "human interest" appeal. By thus developing one
concrete example effectively, the author is able to arouse more interest in
the results of the school than she would have done if in the same space she
had attempted to give a greater number of facts about it. Unlike the longer
article, her story probably would not suggest to the reader the possibility
of undertaking a similar enterprise, because it does not give enough details
about the organization and methods of the school to show how the idea could
be applied elsewhere.
The beginning of the shorter story was
doubtless suggested by the presence at the exercises of Mary Antin, the
author of "The Promised Land," who addressed the girls. The first sentence
of it piques our curiosity to know how "the promised land" has kept its
promise, and the story proceeds to tell us. The article, with an analysis of
its main points, follows:
| "The promised land" has kept its promise
to Rebecca Meyer! |
I. STORY OF REBECCA MEYER
|
| Eight months ago an illiterate Austrian
immigrant girl, unable to speak or write English, went to work in a
New York garment factory. |
1. Striking statement beginning Note effective use of device of
contrast
|
| To-day, speaking and writing fluently
the language of her adopted country, proficient in other studies, she
proudly cherishes the first "certificate of literacy" issued by a
factory—a factory which has paid her for going to school during
working hours! |
Second and third paragraphs show striking results in one concrete
case.
|
| It was Rebecca Meyer who received this
first certificate, at the graduation exercises held on the top floor
of the big women's wear factory of D.E. Sicher & Co. It was Rebecca
Meyer who delivered the address of welcome to the members of the board
of education, the members of the firm, her fellow employees, and all
the others gathered at these exercises—the first of their kind ever
held in any commercial establishment, anywhere! |
2. Commencement Note that Rebecca is the central figure
Dash used to set off unique element
|
| "Isn't it wonderful!" she said. "When I
came from Austria, I hoped to find work. That was all. How I should
learn to speak the English language, I did not know. It might take me
years, I thought. That I should go to school every day, while I
worked—who could dream of such a thing? It could not be in any other
country except America." |
3. Rebecca's statement Slightly unidiomatic English is suggestive
|
| Dudley E. Sicher, head of the firm, in
whose workrooms a regularly organized class of the New York public
schools has held its sessions all winter, stood smiling in the
background. Mr. Sicher is president of the Cotton Goods Manufacturers'
Association. It was he who conceived the idea, about a year ago, of
increasing the efficiency of his women employees by giving them an
education free of cost, during working hours. |
II. STORY OF THE SCHOOL 1. Origin of school
Note method of introducing head of firm
|
| "One of the first and most noticeable
results of the factory school has been a marked decrease in the
friction and the waste of time caused by the inability of employees to
comprehend directions. A girl who understands English, and has been
enabled thereby to school herself in factory methods and conditions,
doesn't hesitate and blunder; she understands, and does. And what
then? Why, higher pay." |
2. Results of school Statement of head of firm
|
| No wonder Rebecca Meyer is grateful for
the 45 minutes a day in which button-sewing has given place to
study—no wonder she thinks America must be the wonderland of all the
world! |
III. CONCLUSION Rebecca again made the central figure
Appeal to reader's pride in his country.
|
Articles Composed of Units. The
study of the two special feature stories on the factory school shows how
articles of this type are built up out of a number of units, such as
examples, incidents, and statistics. A similar study of the other types of
articles exemplified in Chapter V will show that they also are made up of
various kinds of units. Again, if we turn to the types of beginnings
illustrated in Chapter VII, we shall find that they, too, are units, which
in some cases might have been used in the body of the article instead of as
an introduction. Since, then, every division of a subject may be regarded as
a unit that is complete in itself whatever its position in the article, each
of the several kinds of units may be studied separately. For this purpose we
may discuss five common types of units: (1) examples, (2) incidents, (3)
statistics, (4) scientific and technical processes, and (5) recipes and
directions.
Methods of Developing Units. In
order to present these units most effectively, and to vary the form of
presentation when occasion demands, a writer needs to be familiar with the
different methods of developing each one of these types. Four common methods
of handling material within these units
are: (1) exposition, narration, or description in the writer's own words;
(2) dialogue; (3) the interview; (4) direct or indirect quotation.
Statistics and recipes may also be given in tabular form.
When a unit may be developed with equal
effectiveness by any one of several methods, a writer should choose the one
that gives variety to his article. If, for example, the units just before
and after the one under consideration are to be in direct quotation, he
should avoid any form that involves quoted matter.
Examples. In all types of
articles the concrete example is the commonest and most natural means of
explaining a general idea. To most readers, for instance, the legal
provisions of an old age pension law would be neither comprehensible nor
interesting, but a story showing how a particular old man had been benefited
by the law would appeal to practically every one. That is, to explain the
operation and advantages of such a law, we give, as one unit, the concrete
example of this old man. Actual examples are preferable to hypothetical
ones, but the latter may occasionally be used when real cases are not
available. Imaginary instances may be introduced by such phrases as, "If,
for example," or "Suppose, for instance, that."
To explain why companies that insure
persons against loss of their jewelry are compelled to investigate
carefully every claim filed with them, a writer in the Buffalo News
gave several cases in which individuals supposed that they were entitled
to payment for losses although subsequent investigation showed that they
had not actually sustained any loss. One of these cases, that given below,
he decided to relate in his own words, without conversation or quotation,
although he might have quoted part of the affidavit, or might have given
the dialogue between the detective and the woman who had lost the pin. No
doubt he regarded the facts themselves, together with the suspense as to
the outcome of the search, as sufficiently interesting to render
unnecessary any other device for creating interest.
Another woman of equal wealth and equally
undoubted honesty lost a horseshoe diamond pin. She and her maid looked
everywhere, as they thought, but failed to find it. So she made her "proof
of loss" in affidavit form and asked the surety company with which she
carried the policy on all her jewelry to replace the article.
She said in her affidavit that she had
worn the pin in a restaurant a few nights before and had lost it that
night, either in the restaurant or on her way there or back. The
restaurant management had searched for it, the restaurant help had been
questioned closely, the automobile used that night had been gone over
carefully, and the woman's home had been ransacked. Particular attention
had been given to the gown worn by the woman on that occasion; every inch
of it had been examined with the idea that the pin, falling from its
proper place, had caught in the folds.
The surety company assigned one of its
detectives to look for the pin. From surface indications the loss had the
appearance of a theft—an "inside job." The company, however, asked that
its detective be allowed to search the woman's house itself. The request
was granted readily. The detective then inquired for the various gowns
which the woman had worn for dress occasions within the preceding several
weeks.
This line of investigation the owner
of the pin considered a waste of time, since she remembered distinctly
wearing the pin to the restaurant on that particular night, and her
husband also remembered seeing it that night and put his memory in
affidavit form. But the detective persisted and with the help of a maid
examined carefully those other gowns.
In the ruffle at the bottom of one of
them, worn for the last time at least a week before the visit to the
restaurant, she found the pin. The woman and her husband simply had been
mistaken—honestly mistaken. She hadn't worn the pin to the restaurant, and
her husband hadn't seen it that night. The error was unintentional, but it
came very near costing the surety company a large sum of money.
The benefits of a newly established
clinic for animals were demonstrated in a special feature article in the
New York Times by the selection of several animal patients as typical
cases. Probably the one given below did not seem
to the writer to be sufficiently striking
if only the bare facts were given, and so he undertook to create sympathy by
describing the poor, whimpering little dog and the distress of the two young
women. By arousing the sympathies of the readers, he was better able to
impress them with the benefits of the clinic.
The other day Daisy, a little fox
terrier, was one of the patients. She was a pretty little thing, three
months old, with a silky coat and big, pathetic eyes. She was escorted to
the clinic by two hatless young women, in shawls, and three children. The
children waited outside in the reception room, standing in a line,
grinning self-consciously, while the women followed Daisy into the
examination room. There she was gently muzzled with a piece of bandage,
and the doctor examined her. There was something the matter with one hind
leg, and the poor little animal whimpered pitifully, as dogs do, while the
doctor searched for a broken bone. It was too much for one of the women.
She left the room, and, standing outside the door, put her fingers in her
ears, while the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Well, I wouldn't cry for a dog," said a
workman, putting in some S.P.C.A. receiving boxes, with a grin, while the
three children—and children are always more or less little savages—grinned
sympathetically. But it was a very real sorrow for Daisy's mistress.
There was no reason for alarm; it was
only a sprain, caused by her mistress' catching the animal by the leg when
she was giving her a bath. Her friends were told to take her home, bathe
the leg with warm water, and keep her as quiet as possible. Her mistress,
still with a troubled face, wrapped her carefully in the black shawl she
was wearing, so that only the puppy's little white head and big, soft eyes
peeped out, and the small procession moved away.
In a special feature story designed to
show how much more intelligently the first woman judge in this country could
deal with cases of delinquent girls in the juvenile court than could the
ordinary police court judge, a writer selected several cases that she had
disposed of in her characteristic way. The first case, which follows, he
decided could best be reported verbatim, as by that method he
could show most clearly the kindly attitude
of the judge in dealing with even the least appreciative of girls.
The first case brought in the other day
was that of a girl of 16, who hated her home and persisted in running
away, sometimes to a married sister, and sometimes to a friend. She was
accompanied by her mother and older sister, both with determined lower
jaws and faces as hard as flint. She swaggered into the room in an
impudent way to conceal the fact that her bravado was leaving her.
"Ella," said Miss Bartelme, looking up
from her desk, "why didn't you tell me the truth when you came in here the
other day? You did not tell me where you had been. Don't you understand
that it is much easier for me to help you if you speak the truth right
away?"
Ella hung her head and said nothing.
The older sister scowled at the girl and muttered something to the mother.
"No," refused the mother, on being
questioned. "We don't want nothing more to do with her."
"Humph," snorted Ella, "you needn't
think I want to come back. I don't want nothing more to do with you,
either."
Miss Bartelme often lets the family
fight things out among themselves; for in this way, far more than by
definite questioning, she learns the attitude of the girl and the family
toward each other, and indirectly arrives at most of the actual facts of
the case.
"How would you like to go into a good
home where some one would love you and care for you?" asked the judge.
"I don't want nobody to love me."
"Why, Ella, wouldn't you like to have
a kind friend, somebody you could confide in and go walking with and who
would be interested in you?"
"I don't want no friends. I just want
to be left alone."
"Well, Ella," said the judge,
patiently, ignoring her sullenness, "I think we shall send you back to
Park Ridge for a while. But if you ever change your mind about wanting
friends let us know, because we'll be here and shall feel the same way as
we do now about it."
To explain to readers of the Kansas
City Star how a bloodhound runs down a criminal, a special feature
writer asked them to imagine that a crime had been committed at a particular
corner in that city and that a bloodhound had been brought to track the
criminal; then he told them what would
happen if the crime were committed, first, when the streets were deserted,
or second, when they were crowded. In other words, he gave two imaginary
instances to illustrate the manner in which bloodhounds are able to follow a
trail. Obviously these two hypothetical cases are sufficiently plausible and
typical to explain the idea.
If a bloodhound is brought to the scene
of the crime within a reasonable length of time after it has been
committed, and the dog has been properly trained, he will unfailingly run
down the criminal, provided, of course, that thousands of feet have not
tramped over the ground.If, for
instance, a crime were committed at Twelfth and Walnut streets at 3
o'clock in the morning, when few persons are on the street, a well-trained
bloodhound would take the trail of the criminal at daybreak and stick to
it with a grim determination that appears to be uncanny, and he would
follow the trail as swiftly as if the hunted man had left his shadow all
along the route.
But let the crime be committed at noon
when the section is alive with humanity and remain undiscovered until
after dark, then the bloodhound is put at a disadvantage and his wonderful
powers would fail him, no doubt.
Incidents. Narrative articles,
such as personal experience stories, confessions, and narratives in the
third person, consist almost entirely of incidents. Dialogue and description
are very frequently employed in relating incidents, even when the greater
part of the incident is told in the writer's own words. The incidents given
as examples of narrative beginnings on pages 135-37 are sufficient to
illustrate the various methods of developing incidents as units.
Statistics. To make statistical
facts comprehensible and interesting is usually a difficult problem for the
inexperienced writer. Masses of figures generally mean very little to the
average reader. Unless the significance of statistics can be quickly
grasped, they are almost valueless as a means of explanation. One method of
simplifying them is to translate them into terms with which the average
reader is familiar. This may often be done by reducing
large figures to smaller ones. Instead of
saying, for example, that a press prints 36,000 newspapers an hour, we may
say that it prints 10 papers a second, or 600 a minute. To most persons
36,000 papers an hour means little more than a large number, but 10 papers
and one second are figures sufficiently small to be understood at a glance.
Statistics sometimes appear less formidable if they are incorporated in an
interview or in a conversation.
In undertaking to explain the advantages
of a coöperative community store, a writer was confronted with the problem
of handling a considerable number of figures. The first excerpt below shows
how he managed to distribute them through several paragraphs, thus avoiding
any awkward massing of figures. In order to present a number of comparative
prices, he used the concrete case, given below, of an investigator making a
series of purchases at the store.
(1)
(2)
Since to the average newspaper reader it
would not mean much to say that the cost of the public schools amounted to
several hundred thousand dollars a year, a special feature writer calculated
the relation of the school appropriation to the total municipal expenditure
and then presented the results as fractions of a dollar, thus:
How statistics may be effectively
embodied in an interview is demonstrated by the following excerpt from a
special feature story on a workmen's compensation law administered by a
state industrial board:
Judge J.B. Vaughn, who is at the head of
the board, estimates that the system of settling compensation by means of
a commission instead of by the regular courts has saved the state
$1,000,000 a year since its inception in 1913. "Under the usual court
proceedings," he says, "each case of an injured workman versus his
employer costs from $250 to $300. Under the workings of the industrial
board the average cost is no more than $20.
"In three and one-half years 8,000 cases
have come before us. Nine out of every ten have been adjusted by our eight
picked arbitrators, who tour the
state, visiting promptly each scene of an accident and adjusting the
compensation as quickly as possible. The tenth case, which requires a
lengthier or more painstaking hearing, is brought to the board.
"Seven million dollars has been in
this time ordered to be paid to injured men and their families. Of this no
charge of any sort has been entered against the workers or their
beneficiaries. The costs are taken care of by the state. Fully 90 per cent
of all the cases are settled within the board, which means that only 10
per cent are carried further into the higher courts for settlement."
Processes. To make scientific and
technical processes sufficiently simple to appeal to the layman, is another
problem for the writer of popular articles. A narrative-descriptive
presentation that enables the reader to visualize and follow the process,
step by step, as though it were taking place before his eyes, is usually the
best means of making it both understandable and interesting.
In a special feature story on methods of
exterminating mosquitoes, a writer in the Detroit News undertook to
trace the life history of a mosquito. In order to popularize these
scientific details, he describes a "baby mosquito" in a concrete, informal
manner, and, as he tells the story of its life, suggests or points out
specifically its likeness to a human being.
The baby mosquito is a regular little
water bug. You call him a "wiggler" when you see him swimming about in a
puddle. His head is wide and flat and his eyes are set well out at the
sides, while in front of them he has a pair of cute little horns or
feelers. While the baby mosquito is brought up in the water, he is an
air-breather and comes to the top to breathe as do frogs and musk-rats and
many other water creatures of a higher order.
Like most babies the mosquito larva
believes that his mission is to eat as much as he can and grow up very
fast. This he does, and if the weather is warm and the food abundant, he
soon outgrows his skin. He proceeds to grow a new skin underneath the old
one, and when he finds himself protected, he bursts out of his old clothes
and comes out in a spring suit. This molting process occurs several times
within a week or two, but the last time he takes on another form. He is
then called a pupa, and is in a
strange transition period during which he does not eat. He now slowly
takes on the form of a true mosquito within his pupal skin or shell.
After two or three days, or perhaps
five or six, if conditions are not altogether favorable, he feels a great
longing within him to rise to something higher. His tiny shell is floating
upon the water with his now winged body closely packed within. The skin
begins to split along the back and the true baby mosquito starts to work
himself out. It is a strenuous task for him and consumes many minutes.
At last he appears and sits dazed and
exhausted, floating on his old skin as on a little boat, and slowly
working his new wings in the sunlight, as if to try them out before
essaying flight. It is a moment of great peril. A passing ripple may swamp
his tiny craft and shipwreck him to become the prey of any passing fish or
vagrant frog. A swallow sweeping close to the water's surface may gobble
him down. Some ruthless city employe may have flooded the surface of the
pond with kerosene, the merest touch of which means death to a mosquito.
Escaping all of the thousand and one accidents that may befall, he soon
rises and hums away seeking whom he may devour.
A mechanical process, that of handling
milk at a model dairy farm, was effectively presented by Constance D. Leupp
in an article entitled, "The Fight for Clean Milk," printed in the
Outlook. By leading "you," the reader, to the spot, as it were, by
picturing in detail what "you" would see there, and then by following in
story form the course of the milk from one place to another, she succeeded
in making the process clear and interesting.
Here at five in the afternoon you may see
long lines of sleek, well-groomed cows standing in their cement-floored,
perfectly drained sheds. The walls and ceilings are spotless from constant
applications of whitewash, ventilation is scientifically arranged, doors
and windows are screened against the flies. Here the white-clad,
smooth-shaven milkers do their work with scrubbed and manicured hands. You
will note that all these men are studiously low-voiced and gentle in
movement; for a cow, notwithstanding her outward placidity, is the most
sensitive creature on earth, and there is an old superstition that if you
speak roughly to your cow she will earn no money for you that day.
As each pail is filled it is carried
directly into the milk-house; not into the bottling-room, for in that
sterilized sanctum nobody except the bottler is admitted, but into the
room above, where the pails are emptied into the strainer of a huge
receptacle. From the base of this receptacle it flows over the radiator in
the bottling-room, which reduces it at once to the required temperature,
thence into the mechanical bottler. The white-clad attendant places a tray
containing several dozen empty bottles underneath, presses a lever, and,
presto! they are full and not a drop spilled. He caps the bottles with
another twist of the lever, sprays the whole with a hose, picks up the
load and pushes it through the horizontal dumb-waiter, where another
attendant receives it in the packing-room. The second man clamps a metal
cover over the pasteboard caps and packs the bottles in ice. Less than
half an hour is consumed in the milking of each cow, the straining,
chilling, bottling, and storing of her product.
Practical Guidance Units. To give
in an attractive form complete and accurate directions for doing something
in a certain way, is another difficult problem for the inexperienced writer.
For interest and variety, conversation, interviews and other forms of direct
quotation, as well as informal narrative, may be employed.
Various practical methods of saving fuel
in cooking were given by a writer in Successful Farming, in what
purported to be an account of a meeting of a farm woman's club at which the
problem was discussed. By the device of allowing the members of the club to
relate their experiences, she was able to offer a large number of
suggestions. Two units selected from different portions of the article
illustrate this method:
"I save dollars by cooking in my
furnace," added a practical worker. "Potatoes bake nicely when laid on the
ledge, and beans, stews, roasts, bread—in fact the whole food list—may be
cooked there. But one must be careful not to have too hot a fire. I burned
several things before I learned that even a few red coals in the fire-pot
will be sufficient for practically everything. And then it does blacken
the pans! But I've solved that difficulty by bending a piece of tin and
setting it between the fire and the cooking vessel. This prevents burning,
too, if the fire should be hot.
Another plan is to set the vessel in an old preserving kettle. If this
outer kettle does not leak, it may be filled with water, which not only
aids in the cooking process but also prevents burning. For broiling or
toasting, a large corn popper is just the thing."
"My chief saving," confided the member
who believes in preparedness, "consists in cooking things in quantities,
especially the things that require long cooking, like baked beans or soup.
I never think of cooking less than two days' supply of beans, and as for
soup, that is made up in quantity sufficient to last a week. If I have no
ice, reheating it each day during warm weather prevents spoiling. Most
vegetables are not harmed by a second cooking, and, besides the saving in
fuel it entails, it's mighty comforting to know that you have your dinner
already prepared for the next day, or several days before for that matter.
In cold weather, or if you have ice, it will not be necessary to introduce
monotony into your meals in order to save fuel, for one can wait a day or
two before serving the extra quantity. Sauces, either for vegetables,
meats or puddings, may just as well be made for more than one occasion,
altho if milk is used in their preparation, care must be taken that they
are kept perfectly cold, as ptomaines develop rapidly in such foods. Other
things that it pays to cook in large portions are chocolate syrup for
making cocoa, caramel for flavoring, and apple sauce."
By using a conversation between a
hostess and her guest, another writer in the same farm journal succeeded in
giving in a novel way some directions for preparing celery.
"Your escalloped corn is delicious. Where
did you get your recipe?"Mrs.
Field smiled across the dining table at her guest. "Out of my head, I
suppose, for I never saw it in print. I just followed the regulation
method of a layer of corn, then seasoning, and repeat, only I cut into
small pieces a stalk or two of celery with each layer of corn."
"Celery and corn—a new combination,
but it's a good one. I'm so glad to learn of it; but isn't it tedious to
cut the celery into such small bits?"
"Not
at all, with my kitchen scissors. I just slash the stalk into several
lengthwise strips, then cut them crosswise all at once into very small
pieces."
"You always have such helpful ideas
about new and easy ways to do your work. And economical, too. Why, celery
for a dish like this could be the outer stalks or pieces too small to be
used fresh on the table."
"That's the idea, exactly. I use such
celery in soups and stews of all kinds; it adds such a delicious flavor.
It is especially good in poultry stuffings and meat loaf. Then there is
creamed celery, of course, to which I sometimes add a half cup of almonds
for variety. And I use it in salads, too. Not a bit of celery is wasted
around here. Even the leaves may be dried out in the oven, and crumbled up
to flavor soups or other dishes."
"That's fine! Celery is so high this
season, and much of it is not quite nice enough for the table, unless
cooked."
A number of new uses for adhesive
plaster were suggested by a writer in the New York Tribune, who, in
the excerpt below, employs effectively the device of the direct appeal to
the reader.
Aside from surgical "First Aid" and the
countless uses to which this useful material may be put, there are a great
number of household uses for adhesive plaster.
If your pumps are too large and slip at
the heel, just put a strip across the back and they will stay in place
nicely. When your rubbers begin to break repair them on the inside with
plaster cut to fit. If the children lose their rubbers at school, write
their names with black ink on strips of the clinging material and put
these strips inside the top of the rubber at the back.
In the same way labels can be made for
bottles and cans. They are easy to put on and to take off. If the garden
hose, the rubber tube of your bath spray, or your hot water bag shows a
crack or a small break, mend it with adhesive.
A cracked handle of a broom, carpet
sweeper, or umbrella can be repaired with this first aid to the injured.
In the same way the handles of golf sticks, baseball bats, flagstaffs and
whips may be given a new lease on life.
If your sheet music is torn or the
window shade needs repairing, or there is a cracked pane of glass in the
barn or in a rear window, apply a strip or patch of suitable size.
In an article in the Philadelphia
Ledger on "What Can I Do to Earn Money?" Mary Hamilton Talbot gave
several examples of methods of earning money, in one of which she
incorporated practical directions, thus:
A resourceful girl who loved to be
out-of-doors found her opportunity in a bed of mint and aromatic herbs.
She sends bunches of the mint neatly prepared to various hotels and cafés
several times a week by parcel post, but it is in the over-supply that she
works out best her original ideas. Among the novelties she makes is a
candied mint that sells quickly. Here is her formula: Cut bits of mint,
leaving three or four small leaves on the branch; wash well; dry and lay
in rows on a broad, level surface. Thoroughly dissolve one pound of loaf
sugar, boil until it threads and set from the fire. While it is still at
the boiling point plunge in the bits of mint singly with great care.
Remove them from the fondant with a fork and straighten the leaves neatly
with a hatpin or like instrument. If a second plunging is necessary, allow
the first coating to become thoroughly crystalized before dipping them
again. Lay the sweets on oiled paper until thoroughly dry. With careful
handling these mints will preserve their natural aroma, taste, and shape,
and will keep for any length of time if sealed from the air. They show to
best advantage in glass. The sweet-smelling herbs of this girl's garden
she dries and sells to the fancy goods trade, and they are used for
filling cushions, pillows, and perfume bags. The seasoning herbs she
dries, pulverizes, and puts in small glasses, nicely labeled, which sell
for 10 cents each, and reliable grocers are glad to have them for their
fastidious customers.
Importance of the Beginning. The
value of a good beginning for a news story, a special feature article, or a
short story results from the way in which most persons read newspapers and
magazines. In glancing through current publications, the average reader is
attracted chiefly by headlines or titles, illustrations, and authors' names.
If any one of these interests him, he pauses a moment or two over the
beginning "to see what it is all about." The first paragraphs usually
determine whether or not he goes any further. A single copy of a newspaper
or magazine offers so much reading matter that the casual reader, if
disappointed in the introduction to one article or short story, has plenty
of others to choose from. But if the opening sentences hold his attention,
he reads on. "Well begun is half done" is a saying that applies with
peculiar fitness to special feature articles.
Structure of the Beginning. To
accomplish its purpose an introduction must be both a unit in itself and an
integral part of the article. The beginning, whether a single paragraph in
form, or a single paragraph in essence, although actually broken up into two
or more short paragraphs, should produce on the mind of the reader a unified
impression. The conversation, the incident, the example, or the summary of
which it consists, should be complete in itself. Unless, on the other hand,
the introduction is an organic part of the article, it fails of its purpose.
The beginning must present some vital phase of the subject; it should not be
merely something attractive attached to the article to catch the reader's
notice. In his effort to make the beginning attractive, an inexperienced
writer is inclined to linger over it until it becomes disproportionately
long. Its length, however, should be proportionate to the
importance of that phase of the subject
which it presents. As a vital part of the article, the introduction must be
so skillfully connected with what follows that a reader is not conscious of
the transition. Close coherence between the beginning and the body of the
article is essential.
The four faults, therefore, to be
guarded against in writing the beginning are: (1) the inclusion of diverse
details not carefully coordinated to produce a single unified impression;
(2) the development of the introduction to a disproportionate length; (3)
failure to make the beginning a vital part of the article itself; (4) lack
of close connection or of skillful transition between the introduction and
the body of the article.
Types of Beginnings. Because of
the importance of the introduction, the writer should familiarize himself
with the different kinds of beginnings, and should study them from the point
of view of their suitability for various types of articles. The seven
distinct types of beginnings are: (1) summary; (2) narrative; (3)
description; (4) striking statement; (5) quotation; (6) question; (7) direct
address. Combinations of two or more of these methods are not infrequent.
Summary Beginnings. The general
adoption by newspapers of the summary beginning, or "lead," for news stories
has accustomed the average reader to finding most of the essential facts of
a piece of news grouped together in the first paragraph. The lead, by
telling the reader the nature of the event, the persons and things
concerned, the time, the place, the cause, and the result, answers his
questions, What? Who? When? Where? Why? How? Not only are the important
facts summarized in such a beginning, but the most striking detail is
usually "played up" in the first group of words of the initial sentence
where it catches the eye at once. Thus the reader is given both the main
facts and the most significant feature of the subject. Unquestionably this
news story lead, when skillfully worked out, has distinct advantages alike
for the news report and for the special article.
Summary Beginnings
(1)
(2)
(3)
Narrative Beginnings. To begin a
special feature article in the narrative form is to give it a story-like
character that at once arouses interest. It is impossible in many instances
to know from the introduction whether what follows is to be a short story or
a special article. An element of suspense may even be injected into the
narrative introduction to stimulate the reader's curiosity, and descriptive
touches may be added to heighten the vividness.
If the whole article is in narrative
form, as is the case in a personal experience or confession story, the
introduction is only the first part of a continuous story, and as such gives
the necessary information about the person involved.
Narrative beginnings that consist of
concrete examples and specific instances are popular for expository
articles. Sometimes several instances are related in the introduction before
the writer proceeds to generalize from them. The advantage of this inductive
method of explanation grows out of the fact that, after a general idea has
been illustrated by an example or two, most persons can grasp it with much
less effort and with much greater interest than when such exemplification
follows the generalization.
Other narrative introductions consist of
an anecdote, an incident, or an important event connected with the subject
of the article.
Since conversation is an excellent means
of enlivening a narrative, dialogue is often used in the introduction to
special articles, whether for relating an incident, giving a specific
instance, or beginning a personal experience story.
Narrative Beginnings
(1)
(The Outlook)
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON
BY EMMETT J. SCOTT AND LYMAN BEECHER
STOWE
It came about that in the year 1880,
in Macon County, Alabama, a certain ex-Confederate colonel conceived the
idea that if he could secure the Negro vote he could beat his rival and
win the seat he coveted in the State Legislature. Accordingly the colonel
went to the leading Negro in the town of Tuskegee and asked him what he
could do to secure the Negro vote, for Negroes then voted in Alabama
without restriction. This man, Lewis Adams by name, himself an ex-slave,
promptly replied that what his race most wanted was education, and what
they most needed was industrial education, and that if he (the colonel)
would agree to work for the passage of a bill appropriating money for the
maintenance of an industrial school for Negroes, he, Adams, would help to
get for him the Negro vote and the election. This bargain between an
ex-slaveholder and an ex-slave was made and faithfully observed on both
sides, with the result that the following year the Legislature of Alabama
appropriated $2,000 a year for the establishment of a normal and
industrial school for Negroes in the town of Tuskegee. On the
recommendation of General Armstrong, of Hampton Institute, a young colored
man, Booker T. Washington, a recent graduate of and teacher at the
Institute, was called from there to take charge of this landless,
buildingless, teacherless, and studentless institution of learning.
(2)
(3)
(4)
(New York Times)
NEW YORKER INVENTS NEW EXPLOSIVE AND
GIVES IT TO THE UNITED STATES
Nine young men recently rowed to the
middle of the Hudson River with a wooden box to which wires were attached,
lying in the bottom of the boat. They sank the box in deep water very
cautiously, and then rowed slowly back to land, holding one end of the
wire. Presently a column of water 40 feet through and 300 feet high shot
into the air, followed by a deafening detonation, which tore dead branches
from trees.
The nine young men were congratulating
one man of the group on the explosion when an irate farmer ran up, yelling
that every window in his farmhouse, nearly a mile away, had been
shattered. The party of young men didn't apologize then; they gathered
about the one who was being congratulated and recongratulated him.
The farmer did not know until later
that the force which broke his windows and sent the huge column of water
into the air was the War Department's newest, safest, and most powerful
explosive; that the young men composed the dynamite squad of the Engineer
Corps of the New York National Guard; and that the man they were
congratulating was Lieut. Harold Chase Woodward, the inventor of the
explosive.
(5)
(System)
WHY THE EMPLOYEES RUN OUR BUSINESS
A business of the workers, by the
workers, and for the workers—how it succeeds.
BY EDWARD A. FILENE
"I know I am right. Leave it to any
fair-minded person to decide."
"Good enough," I replied; "you name
one, I will name another, and let them select a third."
She agreed; we selected the umpires
and they decided against the store!
It had come about in this way. The
store rule had been that cashiers paid for shortages in their accounts
as—in our view—a penalty for
carelessness; we did not care about the money. This girl had been short in
an account; the amount had been deducted from her pay, and, not being
afraid to speak out, she complained:
"If I am over in my accounts, it is a
mistake; but if I am short, am I a thief? Why should I pay back the money?
Why can't a mistake be made in either direction?"
This arbitration—although it had
caused a decision against us—seemed such a satisfactory way of ending
disputes that we continued the practice in an informal way. Out of it grew
the present arbitration board, which is the corner-stone of the relation
between our store and the employees, because it affords the machinery for
getting what employees are above all else interested in—a square deal.
Descriptive Beginnings. Just as
description of characters or of scene and setting is one method of beginning
short stories and novels, so also it constitutes a form of introduction for
an article. In both cases the aim is to create immediate interest by vivid
portrayal of definite persons and places. The concrete word picture, like
the concrete instance in a narrative beginning, makes a quick and strong
appeal. An element of suspense or mystery may be introduced into the
description, if a person, a place, or an object is described without being
identified by name until the end of the portrayal.
The possibilities of description are not
limited to sights alone; sounds, odors and other sense impressions, as well
as emotions, may be described. Frequently several different impressions are
combined. To stir the reader's feelings by a strong emotional description is
obviously a good method of beginning.
A descriptive beginning, to be clear to
the rapid reader, should be suggestive rather than detailed. The average
person can easily visualize a picture that is sketched in a few suggestive
words, whereas he is likely to be confused by a mass of details.
Picture-making words and those imitative of sounds, as well as figures of
speech, may be used to advantage in descriptive beginnings. For the
description of feelings, words with a rich emotional connotation are
important.
Descriptive Beginnings
(1)
(Munsey's Magazine)
OUR HIGHEST COURT
BY HORACE TOWNER
"The Honorable the Supreme Court of
the United States!"
Nearly every week-day during the
winter months, exactly at noon, these warning words, intoned in a resonant
and solemn voice, may be heard by the visitor who chances to pass the
doors of the Supreme Court Chamber in the Capitol of the United States.
The visitor sees that others are entering those august portals, and so he,
too, makes bold to step softly inside.
If he has not waited too long, he
finds himself within the chamber in time to see nine justices of our
highest court, clad in long, black robes, file slowly into the room from
an antechamber at the left.
Every one within the room has arisen,
and all stand respectfully at attention while the justices take their
places. Then the voice of the court crier is heard again:
"Oyez, oyez, oyez! All persons
having business with the Supreme Court of the United States are admonished
to draw near and give their attention, for the court is now sitting."
Then, after a slight pause:
"God save the United States and this
honorable court!"
The justices seat themselves; the
attorneys at the bar and visitors do likewise. The Supreme Court of the
United States, generally held to be the most powerful tribunal on earth,
is in session.
(2)
(Collier's Weekly)
JAMES WHITCOMB BROUGHER, A PREACHER TO
THE PROCESSION
BY PETER CLARK MACFARLANE
Imagine the Hippodrome—the largest
playhouse of New York and of the New World! Imagine it filled with people
from foot-lights to the last row in
the topmost gallery—orchestra, dress circle, and balconies—a huge
uprising, semicircular bowl, lined with human beings. Imagine it thus, and
then strip the stage; take away the Indians and the soldiers, the
elephants and the camels; take away the careening stage coaches and the
thundering hoofs of horses, and all the strange conglomeration of dramatic
activities with which these inventive stage managers are accustomed to
panoply their productions. Instead of all this, people the stage with a
chorus choir in white smocks, and in front of the choir put a lean,
upstanding, shock-headed preacher; but leave the audience—a regular
Hippodrome audience on the biggest Saturday night. Imagine all of this, I
say, and what you have is not the Hippodrome, not the greatest play in the
New World, nor any playhouse at all, but the Temple Baptist Church of Los
Angeles, California, with James Whitcomb Brougher, D.D., in the pulpit.
(3)
(4)
(5)
(Good Housekeeping)
NEW ENGLAND MILL SLAVES
BY MARY ALDEN HOPKINS
In the pale light of an early winter
morning, while a flat, white moon awaited the dawn and wind-driven clouds
flung faint scudding shadows across the snow, two little girls, cloaked,
shawled, hooded out of all recognition, plodded heavily along a Vermont
mountain road. Each carried a dangling dinner pail.
The road was lonely. Once they passed
a farmhouse, asleep save for a yellow light in a chamber. Somewhere a cock
crowed. A dog barked in the faint distance.
Where the road ascended the mountain—a
narrow cut between dark, pointed firs and swaying white-limbed birches—the
way was slushy with melting snow. The littler girl, half dozing along the
accustomed way, slipped and slid into puddles.
At the top of the mountain the two
children shrank back into their mufflers, before the sweep of the wet,
chill wind; but the mill was in sight—beyond the slope of bleak pastures
outlined with stone walls—sunk deep in the valley beside a rapid mountain
stream, a dim bulk already glimmering with points of light. Toward this
the two little workwomen slopped along on squashy feet.
They were spinners. One was fifteen.
She had worked three years. The other
was fourteen. She had worked two years. The terse record of the National
Child Labor Committee lies before me, unsentimental, bare of comment:
"They both get up at four fifteen A.M.
and after breakfast start for the mill, arriving there in time not to be
late, at six. Their home is two and one-half miles from the mill. Each
earns three dollars a week—So they cannot afford to ride. The road is
rough, and it is over the mountains."
(6)
(Providence Journal)
HOW TO SING THE NATIONAL SONGS
To Interpret the Text Successfully
the Singer Must Memorize, Visualize, Rhythmize, and Emphasize
BY JOHN G. ARCHER
The weary eye of the toastmaster looks
apologetically down long rows of tables as he says with a
sorry-but-it-must-be-done air, "We will now sing 'The Star Spangled
Banner'"; the orchestra starts, the diners reach frantically for their
menus and each, according to his musical inheritance and patriotic fervor,
plunges into the unknown with a resolute determination to be in on the
death of the sad rite.
Some are wrecked among the dizzy
altitudes, others persevere through uncharted shoals, all make some kind
of a noisy noise, and lo, it is accomplished; and intense relief sits
enthroned on every dewy brow.
In the crowded church, the minister
announces the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," and the organist, armed with
plenary powers, crashes into the giddy old tune, dragging the congregation
resistingly along at a hurdy gurdy pace till all semblance of text or
meaning is irretrievably lost.
Happy are they when the refrain,
"Glory, Glory, Hallelujah," provides a temporary respite from the shredded
syllables and scrambled periods, and one may light, as it were, and catch
up with himself and the organist.
At the close of an outdoor public
meeting the chairman, with fatuous ineptitude, shouts that everybody will
sing three verses of "America."
Granting that the tune is pitched comfortably, the first verse marches
with vigor and certitude, but not for long; dismay soon smites the crowd
in sections as the individual consciousness backs and fills amid half
learned lines.
The trick of catching hopefully at a
neighbor's phrase usually serves to defeat itself, as it unmasks the
ignorance of said neighbor, and the tune ends in a sort of polyglot
mouthing which is not at all flattering to the denizens of an enlightened
community.
These glimpses are not a whit
over-drawn, and it is safe to say that they mirror practically every
corner of our land to-day. Why is it, then, that the people make such a
sorry exhibition of themselves when they attempt to sing the patriotic
songs of our country? Is it the tunes or the words or we ourselves?
Beginning with a Striking Statement.
When the thought expressed in the first sentence of an article is
sufficiently unusual, or is presented in a sufficiently striking form, it at
once commands attention. By stimulating interest and curiosity, it leads the
average person to read on until he is satisfied.
A striking statement of this sort may
serve as the first sentence of one of the other types of beginning, such as
the narrative or the descriptive introduction, the quotation, the question,
or the direct address. But it may also be used entirely alone.
Since great size is impressive, a
statement of the magnitude of something is usually striking. Numerical
figures are often used in the opening sentences to produce the impression of
enormous size. If these figures are so large that the mind cannot grasp
them, it is well, by means of comparisons, to translate them into terms of
the reader's own experience. There is always danger of overwhelming and
confusing a person with statistics that in the mass mean little or nothing
to him.
To declare in the first sentence that
something is the first or the only one of its kind immediately arrests
attention, because of the universal interest in the unique.
An unusual prediction is another form of
striking statement. To be told at the beginning of an article of some
remarkable thing that the future holds in
store for him or for his descendants, fascinates the average person as much
as does the fortune-teller's prophecy. There is danger of exaggeration,
however, in making predictions. When writers magnify the importance of their
subject by assuring us that what they are explaining will "revolutionize"
our ideas and practices, we are inclined to discount these exaggerated and
trite forms of prophecy.
A striking figure of speech—an unusual
metaphor, for example—may often be used in the beginning of an article to
arouse curiosity. As the comparison in a metaphor is implied rather than
expressed, the points of likeness may not immediately be evident to the
reader and thus the figurative statement piques his curiosity. A comparison
in the form of a simile, or in that of a parable or allegory, may serve as a
striking introduction.
A paradox, as a self-contradictory
statement, arrests the attention in the initial sentence of an article.
Although not always easy to frame, and hence not so often employed as it
might be, a paradoxical expression is an excellent device for a writer to
keep in mind when some phase of his theme lends itself to such a striking
beginning.
Besides these readily classified forms
of unusual statements, any novel, extraordinary expression that is not too
bizarre may be employed. The chief danger to guard against is that of making
sensational, exaggerated, or false statements, merely to catch the reader's
notice.
Striking Statement Beginnings
(1)
(2)
(3)
(4)
(5)
(6)
(Harper's Weekly)
THE SPAN OF LIFE
BY WALTER E. WEYL
You who begin this sentence may not
live to read its close. There is a chance, one in three or four billions,
that you will die in a second, by the tick of the watch. The chair upon
which you sit may collapse, the car in which you ride may collide, your
heart may suddenly cease. Or you may survive the sentence and the article,
and live twenty, fifty, eighty years longer.
No one knows the span of your life,
and yet the insurance man is willing to bet upon it. What is life
insurance but the bet of an unknown number of yearly premiums against the
payment of the policy? * * * * The length of your individual life is a
guess, but the insurance company bets on a sure thing, on the average
death rate.
(7)
(8)
(Kansas City Star)
A KANSAS TOWN FEELS ITS OWN PULSE
Lawrence, Kas., was not ill. Most of
its citizens did not even think it was ailing, but there were some anxious
souls who wondered if the rosy exterior were not the mockery of an
internal fever. They called in physicians, and after seven months spent in
making their diagnosis, they have prescribed for Lawrence, and the town is
alarmed to the point of taking their medicine.
That is the medical way of saying that
Lawrence has just completed the most thorough municipal survey ever
undertaken by a town of its size, and in so doing has found out that it is
afflicted with a lot of ills that all cities are heir to. Lawrence,
however, with Kansas progressiveness, proposes to cure these ills.
Prof. F.W. Blackmar, head of the
department of sociology at the University of Kansas, and incidentally a
sort of city doctor, was the first "physician" consulted. He called his
assistant, Prof. B.W. Burgess, and Rev. William A. Powell in consultation,
and about one hundred and fifty club women were taken into the case. Then
they got busy. That was April 1. This month they completed the
examination, set up an exhibit to illustrate what they had to report, and
read the prescription.
(9)
(Popular Science Monthly)
BREAKING THE CHAIN THAT BINDS US TO
EARTH
BY CHARLES NEVERS HOLMES
Man is chained to this Earth, his
planet home. His chain is invisible, but the ball is always to be seen—the
Earth itself. The chain itself is apparently without weight, while the
chain's ball weighs about 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons!
(10)
(11)
(12)
(Leslie's Weekly)
WHAT ELECTRICITY MEANS TO YOU
ONE CENT'S WORTH OF ELECTRICITY AT
TEN CENTS PER KILOWATT-HOUR WILL OPERATE:
Hardly as old as a grown man, the
electrical industry—including railways, telephones and telegraphs—has
already invested $8,125,000,000 in the business of America. Its utility
companies alone pay Uncle Sam $200,000,000 every year for taxes—seven out
of every ten use it in some form every day. It is unmistakably the most
vital factor to-day in America's prosperity. Its resources are boundless.
As Secretary of the Interior Lane expresses it, there is enough
hydro-electric energy running to waste to equal the daily labor of
1,800,000,000 men or 30 times our adult population.
Beginning with a Quotation. Words
enclosed in quotation marks or set off in some distinctive form such as
verse, an advertisement, a letter, a menu, or a sign, immediately catch the
eye at the beginning of an article. Every conceivable source may be drawn on
for quotations, provided, of course, that what is quoted has close
connection with the subject. If the quotation expresses an extraordinary
idea, it possesses an additional source of interest.
Verse quotations may be taken from a
well-known poem, a popular song, a nursery rhyme, or even doggerel verse.
Sometimes a whole poem or song prefaces an article. When the verse is
printed in smaller type than the article, it need not be enclosed in
quotation marks. In his typewritten manuscript a writer may indicate this
difference in size of type by single-spacing the lines of the quotation.
Prose quotations may be taken from a
speech or an interview, or from printed material such as a book, report, or
bulletin. The more significant the quoted statement, the more effective will
be the introduction. When the quotation consists of several sentences or of
one long sentence, it may comprise the first paragraph, to be followed in
the second paragraph by the necessary explanation.
Popular sayings, slogans, or current
phrases are not always enclosed in quotation marks, but are often set off in
a separate paragraph as a striking form of beginning.
The most conspicuous quotation
beginnings are reproductions of newspaper clippings, advertisements, price
lists, menus, telegrams, invitations, or parts of legal documents.
These are not infrequently reproduced as
nearly as possible in the original form and may be enclosed in a frame, or
"box."
Quotation Beginnings
(1)
(New York Evening Post)
"DIGNIFIED AND STATELY"
Being an Account of Some High and
Low Jinks Practiced About This Time on College Class Days
BY EVA ELISE VOM BAUR
Singing these words, 'round and 'round
the campus they marched, drums beating time which no one observed, band
clashing with band, in tune with nothing but the dominant note—the joy of
reunion. A motley lot of men they are—sailors and traction engineers,
Pierrots, soldiers, and even vestal virgins—for the June Commencement is
college carnival time.
Then hundreds upon thousands of men,
East, West, North and South, drop their work and their worries, and
leaving families and creditors at home, slip away to their respective alma
maters, "just to be boys again" for a day and a night or two.
(2)
(3)
(4)
(5)
(The Delineator)
HOW TO START A CAFETERIA
BY AGNES ATHOL
"If John could only get a satisfactory
lunch for a reasonable amount of money!" sighs the wife of John in every
sizable city in the United States, where work and home are far apart.
"He hates sandwiches, anyway, and has
no suitable place to eat them; and somehow he doesn't feel that he does
good work on a cold box lunch. But those clattery quick-lunch places which
are all he has time for, or can afford, don't have appetizing cooking or
surroundings, and all my forethought and planning over our good home meals
may be counteracted by his miserable lunch. I believe half the explanation
of the 'tired business man' lies in the kind of lunches he eats."
Twenty-five cents a day is probably
the outside limit of what the great majority of men spend on their
luncheons. Some cannot spend over fifteen. What a man needs and so seldom
gets for that sum is good, wholesome, appetizing food, quickly served. He
wants to eat in a place which is quiet and not too bare and ugly. He wants
to buy real food and not table decorations. He is willing to dispense with
elaborate service and its accompanying tip, if he can get more food of
better quality.
The cafeteria lunch-room provides a
solution for the mid-day lunch problem and, when wisely located and well
run, the answer to many a competent woman or girl who is asking: "What
shall I do to earn a living?"
(6)
(7)
Beginning with a Question. Every
question is like a riddle; we are never satisfied until we know the answer.
So a question put to us at the beginning of an article piques our curiosity,
and we are not content until we find out how the writer answers it.
Instead of a single question, several
may be asked in succession. These questions may deal with different phases
of the subject or may repeat the first question in other words. It is
frequently desirable to break up a long question into a number of short ones
to enable the rapid reader to grasp the idea more easily. Greater prominence
may be gained for each question by giving it a separate paragraph.
Rhetorical questions, although the
equivalent of affirmative or negative statements, nevertheless retain enough
of their interrogative effect to be used advantageously for the beginning of
an article.
That the appeal may be brought home to
each reader personally, the pronoun "you," or "yours," is often embodied in
the question, and sometimes readers are addressed by some designation such
as "Mr. Average Reader," "Mrs. Voter,"
"you, high school boys and girls."
The indirect question naturally lacks
the force of the direct one, but it may be employed when a less striking
form of beginning is desired. The direct question, "Do you know why the sky
is blue?" loses much of its force when changed into the indirect form, "Few
people know why the sky is blue"; still it possesses enough of the riddle
element to stimulate thought. Several indirect questions may be included in
the initial sentence of an article.
Question Beginnings
(1)
(2)
(3)
(4)
(5)
(6)
(7)
(8)
(9)
Addressing the Reader Directly. A
direct personal appeal makes a good opening for an article. The writer seems
to be talking to each reader individually instead of merely writing for
thousands. This form of address may seem to hark back to the days of the
"gentle reader," but its appeal is perennial. To the pronoun "you" may be
added the designation of the particular class of readers
addressed, such as "You, mothers," or "You,
Mr. Salaried Man." The imperative verb is perhaps the strongest form of
direct address. There is danger of overdoing the "do-this-and-don't-do-that"
style, particularly in articles of practical guidance, but that need not
deter a writer from using the imperative beginning occasionally.
Direct Address Beginnings
(1)
(2)
(3)
(4)
Style Defined. Style, or the
manner in which ideas and emotions are expressed, is as important in special
feature writing as it is in any other kind of literary work. A writer may
select an excellent subject, may formulate a definite purpose, and may
choose the type of article best suited to his needs, but if he is unable to
express his thoughts effectively, his article will be a failure. Style is
not to be regarded as mere ornament added to ordinary forms of expression.
It is not an incidental element, but rather the fundamental part of all
literary composition, the means by which a writer transfers what is in his
own mind to the minds of his readers. It is a vehicle for conveying ideas
and emotions. The more easily, accurately, and completely the reader gets
the author's thoughts and feelings, the better is the style.
The style of an article needs to be
adapted both to the readers and to the subject. An article for a boys'
magazine would be written in a style different from that of a story on the
same subject intended for a Sunday newspaper. The style appropriate to an
entertaining story on odd superstitions of business men would be unsuitable
for a popular exposition of wireless telephony. In a word, the style of a
special article demands as careful consideration as does its subject,
purpose, and structure.
Since it may be assumed that any one who
aspires to write for newspapers and magazines has a general knowledge of the
principles of composition and of the elements and qualities of style, only
such points of style as are important in special feature writing will be
discussed in this chapter.
The elements of style are: (1) words,
(2) figures of speech, (3) sentences, and (4) paragraphs. The kinds of
words, figures, sentences, and paragraphs
used, and the way in which they are combined, determine the style.
Words. In the choice of words for
popular articles, three points are important: (1) only such words may be
used as are familiar to the average person, (2) concrete terms make a much
more definite impression than general ones, and (3) words that carry with
them associated ideas and feelings are more effective than words that lack
such intellectual and emotional connotation.
The rapid reader cannot stop to refer to
the dictionary for words that he does not know. Although the special feature
writer is limited to terms familiar to the average reader, he need not
confine himself to commonplace, colloquial diction; most readers know the
meaning of many more words than they themselves use in everyday
conversation. In treating technical topics, it is often necessary to employ
some unfamiliar terms, but these may readily be explained the first time
they appear. Whenever the writer is in doubt as to whether or not his
readers will understand a certain term, the safest course is to explain it
or to substitute one that is sure to be understood.
Since most persons grasp concrete ideas
more quickly than abstract ones, specific words should be given the
preference in popular articles. To create concrete images must be the
writer's constant aim. Instead of a general term like "walk," for example,
he should select a specific, picture-making word such as hurry, dash, run,
race, amble, stroll, stride, shuffle, shamble, limp, strut, stalk. For the
word "horse" he may substitute a definite term like sorrel, bay, percheron,
nag, charger, steed, broncho, or pony. In narrative and descriptive writing
particularly, it is necessary to use words that make pictures and that
reproduce sounds and other sense impressions. In the effort to make his
diction specific, however, the writer must guard against bizarre effects and
an excessive use of adjectives and adverbs. Verbs, quite as much as nouns,
adjectives, and adverbs, produce clear, vivid images when skillfully
handled.
Some words carry with them associated
ideas and emotions, while others do
not. The feelings and ideas thus associated with words constitute their
emotional and intellectual connotation, as distinct from their logical
meaning, or denotation. The word "home," for example, denotes simply one's
place of residence, but it connotes all the thoughts and feelings associated
with one's own house and family circle. Such a word is said to have a rich
emotional connotation because it arouses strong feeling. It also has a rich
intellectual connotation since it calls up many associated images. Words and
phrases that are peculiar to the Bible or to the church service carry with
them mental images and emotions connected with religious worship. In a
personality sketch of a spiritual leader, for example, such words and
phrases would be particularly effective to create the atmosphere with which
such a man might very appropriately be invested. Since homely, colloquial
expressions have entirely different associations, they would be entirely out
of keeping with the tone of such a sketch, unless the religious leader were
an unconventional revivalist. A single word with the wrong connotation may
seriously affect the tone of a paragraph. On the other hand, words and
phrases rich in appropriate suggestion heighten immeasurably the
effectiveness of an article.
The value of concrete words is shown in
the following paragraphs taken from a newspaper article describing a gas
attack:
There was a faint green vapor, which
swayed and hung under the lee of the raised parapet two hundred yards
away. It increased in volume, and at last rose high enough to be caught by
the wind. It strayed out in tattered yellowish streamers toward the
English lines, half dissipating itself in twenty yards, until the steady
outpour of the green smoke gave it reinforcement and it made headway.
Then, creeping forward from tuft to tuft, and preceded by an acrid and
parching whiff, the curling and tumbling vapor reached the English lines
in a wall twenty feet high.As the
grayish cloud drifted over the parapet, there was a stifled call from some
dozen men who had carelessly let their protectors drop. The gas was
terrible. A breath of it was like a wolf at the throat, like hot ashes in
the windpipe.
The yellowish waves of gas became more
greenish in color as fresh volumes poured out continually from the squat
iron cylinders which had now been raised and placed outside the trenches
by the Germans. The translucent flood flowed over the parapet, linking at
once on the inner side and forming vague, gauzy pools and backwaters, in
which men stood knee deep while the lighter gas was blown in their faces
over the parapet.
Faults in Diction. Since
newspaper reporters and correspondents are called upon day after day to
write on similar events and to write at top speed, they are prone to use the
same words over and over again, without making much of an effort to "find
the one noun that best expresses the idea, the one verb needed to give it
life, and the one adjective to qualify it." This tendency to use trite,
general, "woolly" words instead of fresh, concrete ones is not infrequently
seen in special feature stories written by newspaper workers. Every writer
who aims to give to his articles some distinction in style should guard
against the danger of writing what has aptly been termed "jargon." "To write
jargon," says Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch in his book, "On the Art of Writing,"
"is to be perpetually shuffling around in the fog and cotton-wool of
abstract terms. So long as you prefer abstract words, which express other
men's summarized concepts of things, to concrete ones which lie as near as
can be reached to things themselves and are the first-hand material for your
thoughts, you will remain, at the best, writers at second-hand. If your
language be jargon, your intellect, if not your whole character, will almost
certainly correspond. Where your mind should go straight, it will dodge; the
difficulties it should approach with a fair front and grip with a firm hand
it will be seeking to evade or circumvent. For the style is the man, and
where a man's treasure is there his heart, and his brain, and his writing,
will be also."
Figures of Speech. To most
persons the term "figure of speech" suggests such figures as metonymy and
synecdoche, which they once learned to define, but never thought of using
voluntarily in their own writing. Figures
of speech are too often regarded as
ornaments suited only to poetry or poetical prose. With these popular
notions in mind, a writer for newspapers and magazines may quite naturally
conclude that figurative expressions have little or no practical value in
his work. Figures of speech, however, are great aids, not only to clearness
and conciseness, but to the vividness of an article. They assist the reader
to grasp ideas quickly and they stimulate his imagination and his emotions.
Association of ideas is the principle
underlying figurative expressions. By a figure of speech a writer shows his
readers the relation between a new idea and one already familiar to them. An
unfamiliar object, for example, is likened to a familiar one, directly, as
in the simile, or by implication, as in the metaphor. As the object brought
into relation with the new idea is more familiar and more concrete, the
effect of the figure is to simplify the subject that is being explained, and
to make it more easy of comprehension.
A figure of speech makes both for
conciseness and for economy of mental effort on the part of the reader. To
say in a personality sketch, for example, that the person looks "like
Lincoln" is the simplest, most concise way of creating a mental picture. Or
to describe a smoothly running electric motor as "purring," instantly makes
the reader hear the sound. Scores of words may be saved, and clearer, more
vivid impressions may be given, by the judicious use of figures of speech.
As the familiar, concrete objects
introduced in figures frequently have associated emotions, figurative
expressions often make an emotional appeal. Again, to say that a person
looks "like Lincoln" not only creates a mental picture but awakes the
feelings generally associated with Lincoln. The result is that readers are
inclined to feel toward the person so described as they feel toward Lincoln.
Even in practical articles, figurative
diction may not be amiss. In explaining a method of splitting old kitchen
boilers in order to make watering troughs, a writer in a farm journal
happily described a cold chisel as "turning
out a narrow shaving of steel and rolling
it away much as the mold-board of a plow turns the furrow."
The stimulating effect of a paragraph
abounding in figurative expressions is well illustrated by the following
passage taken from a newspaper personality sketch of a popular pulpit
orator:
His mind is all daylight. There are no
subtle half-tones, or sensitive reserves, or significant shadows of
silence, no landscape fading through purple mists to a romantic distance.
All is clear, obvious, emphatic. There is little atmosphere and a lack of
that humor that softens the contours of controversy. His thought is simple
and direct and makes its appeal, not to culture, but to the primitive
emotions. * * * * His strenuousness is a battle-cry to the crowd. He keeps
his passion white hot; his body works like a windmill in a hurricane; his
eyes flash lightnings; he seizes the enemy, as it were, by the throat,
pommels him with breathless blows, and throws him aside a miserable wreck.
Sentences. For rapid reading the
prime requisite of a good sentence is that its grammatical structure shall
be evident; in other words, that the reader shall be able at a glance to see
the relation of its parts. Involved sentences that require a second perusal
before they yield their meaning, are clearly not adapted to the newspaper or
magazine. Short sentences and those of medium length are, as a rule, more
easily grasped than long ones, but for rapid reading the structure of the
sentence, rather than its length, is the chief consideration. Absolute
clearness is of paramount importance.
In hurried reading the eye is caught by
the first group of words at the beginning of a sentence. These words make
more of an impression on the reader's mind than do those in the middle or at
the end of the sentence. In all journalistic writing, therefore, the
position of greatest emphasis is the beginning. It is there that the most
significant idea should be placed. Such an arrangement does not mean that
the sentence need trail off loosely in a series of phrases and clauses.
Firmness of structure can and should be maintained even though the strongest
emphasis is at the beginning. In
revising his article a writer often finds that he may greatly increase the
effectiveness of his sentences by so rearranging the parts as to bring the
important ideas close to the beginning.
Length of the Sentence. Sentences
may be classified according to length as (1) short, containing 15 words or
less; (2) medium, from 15 to 30 words; and (3) long, 30 words or more. Each
of these types of sentence has its own peculiar advantages.
The short sentence, because it is easily
apprehended, is more emphatic than a longer one. Used in combination with
medium and long sentences it gains prominence by contrast. It makes an
emphatic beginning and a strong conclusion for a paragraph. As the last
sentence of an article it is a good "snapper." In contrast with longer
statements, it also serves as a convenient transition sentence.
The sentence of medium length lends
itself readily to the expression of the average thought; but when used
continuously it gives to the style a monotony of rhythm that soon becomes
tiresome.
The long sentence is convenient for
grouping details that are closely connected. In contrast with the rapid,
emphatic short sentence, it moves slowly and deliberately, and so is well
adapted to the expression of dignified and impressive thoughts.
To prevent monotony, variety of sentence
length is desirable. Writers who unconsciously tend to use sentences of
about the same length and of the same construction, need to beware of this
uniformity.
The skillful use of single short
sentences, of series of short sentences, of medium, and of long sentences,
to give variety, to express thoughts effectively, and to produce harmony
between the movement of the style and the ideas advanced, is well
illustrated in the selection below. It is the beginning of a personality
sketch of William II, the former German emperor, published in the London
Daily News before the world war, and written by Mr. A.G. Gardiner, the
editor of that paper.
When I think of the Kaiser I think of a
bright May morning at Potsdam. It is the Spring Parade, and across from
where we are gathered under the windows of the old palace the household
troops are drawn up on the great parade ground, their helmets and banners
and lances all astir in the jolly sunshine. Officers gallop hither and
thither shouting commands. Regiments form and reform. Swords flash out and
flash back again. A noble background of trees frames the gay picture with
cool green foliage. There is a sudden stillness. The closely serried ranks
are rigid and moveless. The shouts of command are silenced.
"The Kaiser."
He comes slowly up the parade ground
on his white charger, helmet and eagle flashing in the sunshine, sitting
his horse as if he lived in the saddle, his face turned to his men as he
passes by.
"Morgen, meine Kinder." His salutation
rings out at intervals in the clear morning air. And back from the ranks
in chorus comes the response: "Morgen, Majestät."
And as he rides on, master of a
million men, the most powerful figure in Europe, reviewing his troops on
the peaceful parade ground at Potsdam, one wonders whether the day will
ever come when he will ride down those ranks on another errand, and when
that cheerful response of the soldiers will have in it the ancient ring of
doom—"Te morituri salutamus."
For answer, let us look at this
challenging figure on the white charger. What is he? What has he done?
By the three short sentences in the
first paragraph beginning "Officers gallop," the author depicts the rapid
movement of the soldiers. By the next three short sentences in the same
paragraph beginning, "There is a sudden stillness," he produces an
impression of suspense. To picture the Kaiser coming up "slowly," he uses a
long, leisurely sentence. The salutations "ring out" in short, crisp
sentences. The more serious, impressive thought of the possibility of war
finds fitting expression in the long, 64-word sentence, ending with the
sonorous—"ring of doom," "Te morituri salutamus."
The transition between the introduction
and the body of the sketch is accomplished by the last paragraph consisting
of three short sentences, in marked contrast with the climactic effect with
which the description closed.
Paragraphs. The paragraph is a
device that aids a writer to convey to readers his thoughts combined in the
same groups in which they are arranged in his own mind. Since a small group
of thoughts is more easily grasped than a large one, paragraphs in
journalistic writing are usually considerably shorter than those of ordinary
English prose. In the narrow newspaper column, there is room for only five
or six words to a line. A paragraph of 250 words, which is the average
length of the literary paragraph, fills between forty and fifty lines of a
newspaper column. Such paragraphs seem heavy and uninviting. Moreover, the
casual reader cannot readily comprehend and combine the various thoughts in
so large a group of sentences. Although there is no standard column width
for magazines, the number of words in a line does not usually exceed eight.
A paragraph of 250 words that occupies 30 eight-word lines seems less
attractive than one of half that length. The normal paragraph in
journalistic writing seldom exceeds 100 words and not infrequently is much
shorter. As such a paragraph contains not more than four or five sentences,
the general reading public has little difficulty in comprehending it.
The beginning of the paragraph, like the
beginning of the sentence, is the part that catches the eye. Significant
ideas that need to be impressed upon the mind of the reader belong at the
beginning. If his attention is arrested and held by the first group of
words, he is likely to read on. If the beginning does not attract him, he
skips down the column to the next paragraph, glancing merely at enough words
in the paragraph that he skips to "get the drift of it." An emphatic
beginning for a paragraph will insure attention for its contents.
Revision. It is seldom that the
first draft of an article cannot be improved by a careful revision. In going
over his work, word by word and sentence by sentence, the writer will
generally find many opportunities to increase the effectiveness of the
structure and the style. Such revision, moreover, need not destroy the ease
and naturalness of expression.
To improve the diction of his article,
the writer should eliminate (1) superfluous words, (2) trite phrases, (3)
general, colorless words, (4) terms unfamiliar to the average reader, unless
they are explained, (5) words with a connotation inappropriate to the
context, (6) hackneyed and mixed metaphors. The effectiveness of the
expression may often be strengthened by the addition of specific,
picture-making, imitative, and connotative words, as well as of figures of
speech that clarify the ideas and stimulate the imagination.
Sentences may frequently be improved (1)
by making their grammatical structure more evident, (2) by breaking up long,
loose sentences into shorter ones, (3) by using short sentences for
emphasis, (4) by varying the sentence length, (5) by transferring important
ideas to the beginning of the sentence.
Every paragraph should be tested to
determine whether or not it is a unified, coherent group of thoughts,
containing not more than 100 words, with important ideas effectively massed
at the beginning.
Finally, revision should eliminate all
errors in grammar, spelling, punctuation, and capitalization. Every minute
spent in improving an article adds greatly to its chances of being accepted.
Importance of Head and Title.
Headlines or titles, illustrations, and names of authors are the three
things that first catch the eye of the reader as he turns over the pages of
a newspaper or magazine. When the writer's name is unknown to him, only the
illustrations and the heading remain to attract his attention.
The "attention-getting" value of the
headline is fully appreciated not only by newspaper and magazine editors but
by writers of advertisements. Just as the striking heads on the front page
of a newspaper increase its sales, so, also, attractive titles on the cover
of a magazine lead people to buy it, and so, too, a good headline in an
advertisement arouses interest in what the advertiser is trying to sell.
A good title adds greatly to the
attractiveness of an article. In the first place, the title is the one thing
that catches the eye of the editor or manuscript reader, as he glances over
the copy, and if the title is good, he carries over this favorable
impression to the first page or two of the article itself. To secure such
favorable consideration for a manuscript among the hundreds that are
examined in editorial offices, is no slight advantage. In the second place,
what is true of the editor and the manuscript is equally true of the reader
and the printed article. No writer can afford to neglect his titles.
Variety in Form and Style.
Because newspapers and magazines differ in the size and the "make-up" of
their pages, there is considerable variety in the style of headlines and
titles given to special feature articles. Some magazine sections of
newspapers have the full-size page of the regular edition; others have pages
only half as large. Some newspapers use large eight-column display heads on
their special articles, while others
confine their headlines for feature stories to a column or two. Some papers
regularly employ sub-titles in their magazine sections, corresponding to the
"lines," "banks," and "decks" in their news headlines. This variety in
newspapers is matched by that in magazines. Despite these differences,
however, there are a few general principles that apply to all kinds of
titles and headlines for special feature articles.
Characteristics of a Good Title.
To accomplish their purpose most effectively titles should be (1)
attractive, (2) accurate, (3) concise, and (4) concrete.
The attractiveness of a title is
measured by its power to arrest attention and to lead to a reading of the
article. As a statement of the subject, the title makes essentially the same
appeal that the subject itself does; that is, it may interest the reader
because the idea it expresses has timeliness, novelty, elements of mystery
or romance, human interest, relation to the reader's life and success, or
connection with familiar or prominent persons or things. Not only the idea
expressed, but the way in which it is expressed, may catch the eye. By a
figurative, paradoxical, or interrogative form, the title may pique
curiosity. By alliteration, balance, or rhyme, it may please the ear. It
permits the reader to taste, in order to whet his appetite. It creates
desires that only the article can satisfy.
In an effort to make his titles
attractive, a writer must beware of sensationalism and exaggeration. The
lurid news headline on the front page of sensational papers has its
counterpart in the equally sensational title in the Sunday magazine section.
All that has been said concerning unwholesome subject-matter for special
feature stories applies to sensational titles. So, too, exaggerated,
misleading headlines on news and advertisements are matched by exaggerated,
misleading titles on special articles. To state more than the facts warrant,
to promise more than can be given, to arouse expectations that cannot be
satisfied—all are departures from truth and honesty.
Accuracy in titles involves, not merely
avoidance of exaggerated and misleading
statement, but complete harmony in tone and spirit between title and
article. When the story is familiar and colloquial in style, the title
should reflect that informality. When the article makes a serious appeal,
the title should be dignified. A good title, in a word, is true to the
spirit as well as to the letter.
Conciseness in titles is imposed on the
writer by the physical limitations of type and page. Because the width of
the column and of the page is fixed, and because type is not made of rubber,
a headline must be built to fit the place it is to fill. Although in framing
titles for articles it is not always necessary to conform to the strict
requirements as to letters and spaces that limit the building of news
headlines, it is nevertheless important to keep within bounds. A study of a
large number of titles will show that they seldom contain more than three or
four important words with the necessary connectives and particles. Short
words, moreover, are preferred to long ones. By analyzing the titles in the
publication to which he plans to send his article, a writer can frame his
title to meet its typographical requirements.
The reader's limited power of rapid
comprehension is another reason for brevity. A short title consisting of a
small group of words yields its meaning at a glance. Unless the reader
catches the idea in the title quickly, he is likely to pass on to something
else. Here again short words have an advantage over long ones.
Concreteness in titles makes for rapid
comprehension and interest. Clean-cut mental images are called up by
specific words; vague ones usually result from general, abstract terms.
Clear mental pictures are more interesting than vague impressions.
Sub-titles. Sub-titles are often
used to supplement and amplify the titles. They are the counterparts of the
"decks" and "banks" in news headlines. Their purpose is to give additional
information, to arouse greater interest, and to assist in carrying the
reader over, as it were, to the beginning of the article.
Since sub-titles follow immediately
after the title, any repetition of important words is usually avoided. It is
desirable to maintain the same tone in both title and sub-title.
Occasionally the two together make a continuous statement. The length of the
sub-title is generally about twice that of the title; that is, the average
sub-title consists of from ten to twelve words, including articles and
connectives. The articles, "a," "an," and "the," are not as consistently
excluded from sub-titles as they are from newspaper headlines.
Some Types of Titles. Attempts to
classify all kinds of headlines and titles involve difficulties similar to
those already encountered in the effort to classify all types of beginnings.
Nevertheless, a separation of titles into fairly distinct, if not mutually
exclusive, groups may prove helpful to inexperienced writers. The following
are the nine most distinctive types of titles: (1) label; (2) "how" and
"why" statement; (3) striking statement, including figure of speech,
paradox, and expression of great magnitude; (4) quotation and paraphrase of
quotation; (5) question; (6) direct address, particularly in imperative
form; (7) alliteration; (8) rhyme; (9) balance.
The label title is a simple, direct
statement of the subject. It has only as much interest and attractiveness as
the subject itself possesses. Such titles are the following:
(1)
RAISING GUINEA PIGS FOR A LIVING
One Missouri Man Finds a Ready Market for All He Can Sell
(2)
HUMAN NATURE AS SEEN BY A PULLMAN PORTER
(3)
THE FINANCIAL SIDE OF FOOTBALL
(4)
CONFESSIONS OF AN UNDERGRADUATE
(5)
BEE-KEEPING ON SHARES
(6)
A COMMUNITY WOOD-CHOPPING DAY
(7)
WHAT A WOMAN ON THE FARM THINKS OF PRICE FIXING
The "how-to-do-something" article may be
given a "how" title that indicates the character of the contents; for
example:
(1)
HOW I FOUND HEALTH IN THE DENTIST'S CHAIR
(2)
HOW TO STORE YOUR CAR IN WINTER
(3)
HOW A FARMER'S WIFE MADE $55 EXTRA
(4)
HOW TO SUCCEED AS A WRITER
Woman Who "Knew She Could Write" Tells How She Began and
Finally Got on the Right Road
The "how" title may also be used for an
article that explains some phenomenon or process. Examples of such titles
are these:
(1)
HOW A NETTLE STINGS
(2)
HOW RIPE OLIVES ARE MADE
(3)
HOW THE FREIGHT CAR GETS HOME
Articles that undertake to give causes
and reasons are appropriately given "why" titles like the following:
(1)
WHY CAVIAR COSTS SO MUCH
(2)
WHY I LIKE A ROUND BARN
(3)
WHY THE COAL SUPPLY IS SHORT
A title may attract attention because of
the striking character of the idea it expresses; for example:
(1)
WANTED: $50,000 MEN
(2)
200 BUSHELS OF CORN PER ACRE
(3)
FIRE WRITES A HEART'S RECORD
(4)
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SECOND HELPINGS
The paradoxical form of title piques
curiosity by seeming to make a self-contradictory statement, as, for
example, the following:
(1)
SHIPS OF STONE
Seaworthy Concrete Vessels an Accomplished Fact
(2)
CHRISTIAN PAGANS
(3)
A TELESCOPE THAT POINTS DOWNWARD
(4)
SEEING WITH YOUR EARS
(5)
MAKING SAILORS WITHOUT SHIPS
(6)
HOW TO BE AT HOME WHILE TRAVELING
(7)
CANAL-BOATS THAT CLIMB HILLS
A striking figure of speech in a title
stimulates the reader's imagination and arouses his interest; for example:
(1)
PULLING THE RIVER'S TEETH
(2)
THE OLD HOUSE WITH TWO FACES
(3)
THE HONEY-BEE SAVINGS BANK
(4)
RIDING ON BUBBLES
(5)
THE ROMANCE OF NITROGEN
A familiar quotation may be used for the
title and may stand alone, but often a sub-title is desirable to show the
application of the quotation to the subject, thus:
(1)
THE SHOT HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD
America's First Victory in France
(2)
"ALL WOOL AND A YARD WIDE"
What "All Wool" Really Means and Why Shoddy is Necessary
(3)
THE SERVANT IN THE HOUSE
And Why She Won't Stay in the House
A well-known quotation or common saying
may be paraphrased in a novel way to attract attention; for example:
(1)
FORWARD! THE TRACTOR BRIGADE
(2)
IT'S LO, THE RICH INDIAN
(3)
LEARNING BY UNDOING
(4)
THE GUILELESS SPIDER AND THE WILY FLY
Entomology Modifies our Ideas of the Famous Parlor
Since every question is like a riddle, a
title in question form naturally leads the reader to seek the answer in the
article itself. The directness of appeal may be heightened by addressing the
question to the reader with "you," "your," or by presenting it from the
reader's point of view with the use of "I," "we," or "ours." The sub-title
may be another question or an affirmation, but should not attempt to answer
the question. The following are typical question titles and sub-titles:
(1)
WHAT IS A FAIR PRICE FOR MILK?
(2)
HOW MUCH HEAT IS THERE IN YOUR COAL?
(3)
WHO'S THE BEST BOSS?
Would You Rather Work For a Man or For a Machine?
(4)
"SHE SANK BY THE BOW"—BUT WHY?
(5)
HOW SHALL WE KEEP WARM THIS WINTER?
(6)
DOES DEEP PLOWING PAY?
What Some Recent Tests Have Demonstrated
(7)
SHALL I START A CANNING BUSINESS?
The reader may be addressed in an
imperative form of title, as well as in a question, as the following titles
show:
(1)
BLAME THE SUN SPOTS
Solar Upheavals That Make Mischief on the Earth
(2)
EAT SHARKS AND TAN THEIR SKINS
(3)
HOE! HOE! FOR UNCLE SAM
(4)
DON'T JUMP OUT OF BED
Give Your Subconscious Self a Chance to Awake Gradually
(5)
RAISE FISH ON YOUR FARM
(6)
BETTER STOP! LOOK! AND LISTEN!
The attractiveness of titles may be
heightened by such combinations of sounds as alliteration and rhyme, or by
rhythm such as is produced by balanced elements. The following examples
illustrate the use of alliteration, rhyme, and balance:
(1)
THE LURE OF THE LATCH
(2)
THE DIMINISHING DOLLAR
(3)
TRACING TELEPHONE TROUBLES
(4)
BOY CULTURE AND AGRICULTURE
(5)
A LITTLE BILL AGAINST BILLBOARDS
(6)
EVERY CAMPUS A CAMP
(7)
LABOR-LIGHTENERS AND HOME-BRIGHTENERS
(8)
THE ARTILLERY MILL AT OLD FORT SILL
How Uncle Sam is Training His Field Artillery Officers
(9)
SCHOLARS VS. DOLLARS
(10)
WAR ON PESTS
When the Spray Gun's Away, Crop Enemies Play
(11)
MORE HEAT AND LESS COAL
(12)
GRAIN ALCOHOL FROM GREEN GARBAGE
How to Frame a Title. The
application of the general principles governing titles may best be shown by
means of an article for which a title is desired. A writer, for example, has
prepared a popular article on soil analysis as a means of determining what
chemical elements different kinds of farm land need to be most productive. A
simple label title like "The Value of Soil Analysis," obviously would not
attract the average person, and probably would interest only the more
enterprising of farmers. The analysis of soil not unnaturally suggests the
diagnosis of human disease; and the remedying of worn-out, run-down farm
land by applying such chemicals as phosphorus and lime, is analogous to the
physician's prescription of tonics for a run-down, anæmic person. These
ideas may readily be worked out as the following titles show:
(1)
PRESCRIBING FOR RUN-DOWN LAND
What the Soil Doctor is Doing to Improve Our Farms
(2)
THE SOIL DOCTOR AND HIS TONICS
Prescribing Remedies for Worn-Out Farm Land
(3)
DIAGNOSING ILLS OF THE SOIL
Science Offers Remedies for Depleted Farms
Other figurative titles like the
following may be developed without much effort from the ideas that soil
"gets tired," "wears out," and "needs to be fed":
(1)
WHEN FARM LAND GETS TIRED
Scientists Find Causes of Exhausted Fields
(2)
FIELDS WON'T WEAR OUT
If the Warnings of Soil Experts Are Heeded
(3)
BALANCED RATIONS FOR THE SOIL
Why the Feeding of Farm Land is Necessary for Good Crops
Importance of Good Manuscript.
After an article has been carefully revised, it is ready to be copied in the
form in which it will be submitted to editors. Because hundreds of
contributions are examined every day in editorial offices of large
publications, manuscripts should be submitted in such form that their merits
can be ascertained as easily and as quickly as possible. A neatly and
carefully prepared manuscript is likely to receive more favorable
consideration than a badly typed one. The impression produced by the
external appearance of a manuscript as it comes to an editor's table is
comparable to that made by the personal appearance of an applicant for a
position as he enters an office seeking employment. In copying his article,
therefore, a writer should keep in mind the impression that it will make in
the editorial office.
Form for Manuscripts. Editors
expect all manuscripts to be submitted in typewritten form. Every person who
aspires to write for publication should learn to use a typewriter. Until he
has learned to type his work accurately, he must have a good typist copy it
for him.
A good typewriter with clean type and a
fresh, black, non-copying ribbon produces the best results. The following
elementary directions apply to the preparation of all manuscripts: (1) write
on only one side of the paper; (2) allow a margin of about three quarters of
an inch on all sides of the page; (3) double space the lines in order to
leave room for changes, sub-heads, and other editing.
Unruled white bond paper of good quality
in standard letter size, 8½ by 11 inches, is the most satisfactory. A high
grade of paper not only gives the manuscript a good appearance but stands
more handling and saves the recopying of returned manuscripts. A carbon copy
should be made of every manuscript so
that, if the original copy goes astray in the mail or in an editorial
office, the writer's work will not have been in vain. The carbon copy can
also be used later for comparison with the printed article. Such a
comparison will show the writer the amount and character of the editing that
was deemed necessary to adapt the material to the publication in which it
appears.
A cover sheet of the same paper is a
convenient device. It not only gives the editorial reader some information
in regard to the article, but it protects the manuscript itself. Frequently,
for purposes of record, manuscripts are stamped or marked in editorial
offices, but if a cover page is attached, the manuscript itself is not
defaced. When an article is returned, the writer needs to recopy only the
cover page before starting the manuscript on its next journey. The form for
such a cover page is given below
To be paid for at usual
rates, or to be returned
with the ten (10) cents
in stamps enclosed, to
Arthur W. Milton,
582 Wilson Street,
Des Moines, Iowa.
|
Written for The Outlook
|
|
CONFESSIONS OF A FRESHMAN
Why I Was Dropped From College at the End of My
First Year
By Arthur W. Milton
(Note. This article is based on the writer's own
experience in a large Middle Western state university, and the
statistics have been obtained from the registrars of four state
universities. It contains 2,750 words.)
Four (4) Photographs are Enclosed, as follows:
- 1. How I Decorated My Room
- 2. I Spent Hours Learning to Play My Ukelele
- 3. When I Made the Freshman Team
- 4. Cramming For My Final Exams
|
The upper half of the first page of the
manuscript should be left blank, so that the editor may write a new title
and sub-title if he is not satisfied with those supplied by the author. The
title, the sub-title, and the author's name should be repeated at the
beginning of the article in the middle of the first page, even though they
have been given on the cover page. At the left-hand side, close to the top
of each page after the first, should be placed the writer's last name
followed by a dash and the title of the article, thus:
Milton—Confessions of a Freshman.
The pages should be numbered in the
upper right-hand corner. By these simple means the danger of losing a page
in the editorial offices is reduced to a minimum.
Typographical Style. Every
newspaper and magazine has its own distinct typographical style in
capitalization, abbreviation, punctuation, hyphenation, and the use of
numerical figures. Some newspapers and periodicals have a style book giving
rules for the preparation and editing of copy. A careful reading of several
issues of a publication
will show a writer the salient features of
its typographical style. It is less important, however, to conform to the
typographical peculiarities of any one publication than it is to follow
consistently the commonly accepted rules of capitalization, punctuation,
abbreviation, and "unreformed" spelling. Printers prefer to have each page
end with a complete sentence. At the close of the article it is well to put
the end mark (#).
When a special feature story for
newspaper publication must be prepared so hastily that there is no time to
copy the first draft, it may be desirable to revise the manuscript by using
the marks commonly employed in editing copy. These are as follows:
|
|
Three short lines under a letter or a word indicate
that it is to be set in capital letters; thus, American. |
|
|
Two short lines under a letter or a word indicate
that it is to be set in small capital letters; thus, NEW YORK TIMES. |
|
|
One line under a word or words indicates that it is
to be set in italics; thus, sine qua non. |
|
|
An oblique line drawn from right to left through a
capital letter indicates that it is to be set in lower case; thus, He
is a sophomore. |
|
|
A circle around numerical figures or abbreviations
indicates that they are to be spelled out; thus, There are ten in a
bushel. |
|
|
A circle around words or figures spelled out
indicates that they are to be abbreviated or that numerical figures
are to be used; thus, Prof. A.B. Smith is 60. |
|
|
A caret is placed at the point in the line where the
letters or words written above the line are to be inserted; thus, It
is not complimentary to him. |
|
|
A line encircling two or more words like an elongated
figure "8" indicates that the words are to be transposed; thus, to
study carefully. |
|
|
Half circles connecting words or letters indicate
that they are to be brought together; thus, tomorrow. |
|
|
A vertical line between parts of a word shows that
the parts are to be separated; thus, all right. |
|
|
A small cross or a period in a circle may be used to
show that a period is to be used; thus, U.S. 4 per cent. bonds. |
|
|
Quotation marks are often enclosed in half circles to
indicate whether they are beginning or end marks. |
|
|
The paragraph mark (¶) or the sign _| may be used to
call attention to the beginning of a new paragraph. |
Mailing Manuscripts. Since
manuscripts are written matter, they must be sent sealed as first-class mail
at letter rates of postage. For the return of rejected articles stamps may
be attached to the cover page by means of a clip, or a self-addressed
envelope with stamps affixed may be enclosed. The writer's name and address
should always be given on the envelope in which the manuscript is sent to
the publishers.
The envelope containing the article
should be addressed to the "Editor" of a magazine or to the "Sunday Editor"
of a newspaper, as nothing is gained by addressing him or
her by name. If a writer knows an editor
personally or has had correspondence with him in regard to a particular
article, it may be desirable to send the manuscript to him personally. An
accompanying letter is not necessary, for the cover page of the manuscript
gives the editor and his assistants all the information that they need.
Articles consisting of only a few pages
may be folded twice and mailed in a long envelope; bulkier manuscripts
should be folded once and sent in a manila manuscript envelope. Photographs
of sizes up to 5 x 7 inches may be placed in a manuscript that is folded
once, with a single piece of stout cardboard for protection. When larger
photographs, up to 8 x 10 inches, accompany the article, the manuscript must
be sent unfolded, with two pieces of cardboard to protect the pictures.
Manuscripts should never be rolled.
How Manuscripts are Handled. In
order to handle hundreds of manuscripts as expeditiously as possible, most
large editorial offices have worked out systems that, though differing
slightly, are essentially the same. When a manuscript is received, a record
is made of it on a card or in a book, with the name and address of the
author, the title and character of the contribution, and the time of its
receipt. The same data are entered on a blank that is attached to the
manuscript by a clip. On this blank are left spaces for comments by each of
the editorial assistants who read and pass upon the article.
After these records have been made, the
manuscript is given to the first editorial reader. He can determine by
glancing at the first page or two whether or not the article is worth
further consideration. Of the thousands of contributions of all kinds
submitted, a considerable proportion are not in the least adapted to the
periodical to which they have been sent. The first reader, accordingly, is
scarcely more than a skilled sorter who separates the possible from the
impossible. All manuscripts that are clearly unacceptable are turned over to
a clerk to be returned with a rejection slip.
When an article appears to have merit,
the first reader looks over it a second time and adds a brief comment, which
he signs with his initials. The manuscript is then read and commented on by
other editorial readers before it reaches the assistant editor. The best of
the contributions are submitted to the editor for a final decision. By such
a system every meritorious contribution is considered carefully by several
critics before it is finally accepted or rejected. Moreover, the editor and
the assistant editor have before them the comments of several readers with
which to compare their own impressions.
In newspaper offices manuscripts are
usually sorted by the assistant Sunday editor, or assistant magazine editor,
and are finally accepted or rejected by the Sunday or magazine editor.
Rejected Manuscripts. In
rejecting contributions, editorial offices follow various methods. The
commonest one is to send the author a printed slip expressing regret that
the manuscript is not acceptable and encouraging him to submit something
else. Some ingenious editors have prepared a number of form letters to
explain to contributors the various reasons why their manuscripts are
unacceptable. The editorial assistant who rejects an unsuitable article
indicates by number which of these form letters is to be sent to the author.
A few editors send a personal letter to every contributor. Sometimes an
editor in rejecting a contribution will suggest some publication to which it
might be acceptable. If a manuscript has merit but is not entirely
satisfactory, he may suggest that it be revised and submitted to him again.
Keeping a Manuscript Record.
Every writer who intends to carry on his work in a systematic manner should
keep a manuscript record, to assist him in marketing his articles to the
best advantage. Either a book or a card index may be used. The purpose of
such a record is to show (1) the length of time required by various
publications to make a decision on contributions; (2) the rate and the time
of payment of each periodical; (3) the present whereabouts
of his manuscript and the periodicals to
which it has already been submitted.
It is important for a writer to know how
soon he may expect a decision on his contributions. If he has prepared an
article that depends on timeliness for its interest, he cannot afford to
send it to an editor who normally takes three or four weeks to make a
decision. Another publication to which his article is equally well adapted,
he may find from his manuscript record, accepts or rejects contributions
within a week or ten days. Naturally he will send his timely article to the
publication that makes the quickest decision. If that publication rejects
it, he will still have time enough to try it elsewhere. His experience with
different editors, as recorded in his manuscript record, often assists him
materially in placing his work to the best advantage.
The rate and the time of payment for
contributions are also worth recording. When an article is equally well
suited to two or more periodicals, a writer will naturally be inclined to
send it first to the publication that pays the highest price and that pays
on acceptance.
A manuscript record also indicates where
each one of a writer's articles is at a given moment, and by what
publications it has been rejected. For such data he cannot afford to trust
his memory.
A writer may purchase a manuscript
record book or may prepare his own book or card index. At the top of each
page or card is placed the title of the article, followed by the number of
words that it contains, the number of illustrations that accompany it, and
the date on which it was completed. On the lines under the title are written
in turn the names of the periodicals to which the manuscript is submitted,
with (1) the dates on which it was submitted and returned or rejected; (2)
the rate and the time of payment; and (3) any remarks that may prove
helpful. A convenient form for such a page or card is shown on the next
page:
| Confessions of a Freshman. 2,750 Words. 4
Photos. Written, Jan. 18, 1919. |
| |
Sent |
Returned |
Accepted |
Paid |
Amount |
Remarks |
| The Outlook |
1/18/19 |
1/30/19 |
|
|
|
|
| The Independent |
1/31/19 |
2/10/19 |
|
|
|
|
| The Kansas City Star |
2/12/19 |
|
2/18/19 |
3/12/19 |
$9.50 |
$4 a col. |
Accepted Manuscripts.
Contributions accepted for publication are paid for at the time of their
acceptance, at the time of their publication, or at some fixed date in the
month following their acceptance or publication. Nearly all well-established
periodicals pay for articles when they are accepted. Some publications do
not pay until the article is printed, a method obviously less satisfactory
to a writer than prompt payment, since he may have to wait a year or more
for his money. Newspapers pay either on acceptance or before the tenth day
of the month following publication. The latter arrangement grows out of the
practice of paying correspondents between the first and the tenth of each
month for the work of the preceding month.
After a manuscript has been accepted, a
writer usually has no further responsibility concerning it. Some magazines
submit galley proofs to the author for correction and for any changes that
he cares to make. It is desirable to make as few alterations as possible to
avoid the delay and expense of resetting the type. Corrected proofs should
be returned promptly.
Unless specific stipulations are made to
the contrary by the author, an article on being accepted by a periodical
becomes its property and cannot be republished without its consent. Usually
an editor will grant an author permission
to reprint an article in book or pamphlet
form. By copyrighting each issue, as most magazines and some newspapers do,
the publishers establish fully their rights to an author's work.
Syndicating Articles. By sending
copies of his articles to a number of newspapers for simultaneous
publication, a writer of special feature stories for newspapers may add to
his earnings. This method is known as syndicating. It is made possible by
the fact that the circulation of newspapers is largely local. Since, for
example, Chicago papers are not read in New York, or Minneapolis papers in
St. Louis, these papers may well publish the same articles on the same day.
Organized newspaper syndicates furnish many papers with reading matter of
all kinds.
The same article must not, however, be
sent to more than one magazine, but a single subject may be used for two
entirely different articles intended for two magazines. If two articles are
written on the same subject, different pictures should be secured, so that
it will not be necessary to send copies of the same illustrations to two
magazines. Agricultural journals with a distinctly sectional circulation do
not object to using syndicated articles, provided that the journals to which
the article is sent do not circulate in the same territory.
If a writer desires to syndicate his
work, he must conform to several requirements. First, he must make as many
good copies as he intends to send out and must secure separate sets of
photographs to accompany each one. Second, he must indicate clearly on each
copy the fact that he is syndicating the article and that he is sending it
to only one paper in a city. A special feature story, for instance, sent to
the Kansas City Star for publication in its Sunday edition, he would
mark, "Exclusive for Kansas City. Release for Publication, Sunday, January
19." Third, he must send out the copies sufficiently far in advance of the
release date to enable all of the papers to arrange for the publication of
the article on that day. For papers with magazine sections that are made up
a week or more before the day of
publication, articles should be in the office of the editor at least two
weeks before the release date. For papers that make up their Sunday issues
only a few days in advance, articles need be submitted only a week before
the publication day.
Selling Articles to Syndicates.
The syndicates that supply newspapers with various kinds of material,
including special feature stories, are operated on the same principle that
governs the syndicating of articles by the writer himself. That is, they
furnish their features to a number of different papers for simultaneous
publication. Since, however, they sell the same material to many papers,
they can afford to do so at a comparatively low price and still make a fair
profit. To protect their literary property, they often copyright their
features, and a line of print announcing this fact is often the only
indication in a newspaper that the matter was furnished by a syndicate.
Among the best-known newspaper syndicates are the Newspaper Enterprise
Association, Cleveland, Ohio; the McClure Newspaper Syndicate, New York; and
the Newspaper Feature Service, New York. A number of large newspapers, like
the New York Evening Post, the Philadelphia Ledger, and the
New York Tribune, syndicate their popular features to papers in other
cities.
A writer may submit his special feature
stories to one of the newspaper syndicates just as he would send it to a
newspaper or magazine. These organizations usually pay well for acceptable
manuscripts. It is not as easy, however, to discover the needs and general
policy of each syndicate as it is those of papers and magazines, because
frequently there is no means of identifying their articles when they are
printed in newspapers.
Value of Illustrations. The
perfecting of photo-engraving processes for making illustrations has been
one of the most important factors in the development of popular magazines
and of magazine sections of newspapers, for good pictures have contributed
largely to their success. With the advent of the half-tone process a
generation ago, and with the more recent application of the rotogravure
process to periodical publications, comparatively cheap and rapid methods of
illustration were provided. Newspapers and magazines have made extensive use
of both these processes.
The chief value of illustrations for
special articles lies in the fact that they present graphically what would
require hundreds of words to describe. Ideas expressed in pictures can be
grasped much more readily than ideas expressed in words. As an aid to rapid
reading illustrations are unexcelled. In fact, so effective are pictures as
a means of conveying facts that whole sections of magazines and Sunday
newspapers are given over to them exclusively.
Illustrations constitute a particularly
valuable adjunct to special articles. Good reproductions of photographs
printed in connection with the articles assist readers to visualize and to
understand what a writer is undertaking to explain. So fully do editors
realize the great attractiveness of illustrations, that they will buy
articles accompanied by satisfactory photographs more readily than they will
those without illustrations. Excellent photographs will sometimes sell
mediocre articles, and meritorious articles may even be rejected because
they lack good illustrations. In preparing his special feature stories, a
writer will do well to consider carefully the number and character of the
illustrations necessary to give his work the strongest possible appeal.
Securing Photographs.
Inexperienced writers are often at a loss to know how to secure good
photographs. Professional photographers will, as a rule, produce the best
results, but amateur writers often hesitate to incur the expense involved,
especially when they feel uncertain about selling their articles. If prints
can be obtained from negatives that photographers have taken for other
purposes, the cost is so small that a writer can afford to risk the
expenditure. Money spent for good photographs is usually money well spent.
Every writer of special articles should
become adept in the use of a camera. With a little study and practice, any
one can take photographs that will reproduce well for illustrations. One
advantage to a writer of operating his own camera is that he can take
pictures on the spur of the moment when he happens to see just what he
needs. Unconventional pictures caught at the right instant often make the
best illustrations.
The charges for developing films and for
making prints and enlargements are now so reasonable that a writer need not
master these technicalities in order to use a camera of his own. If he has
time and interest, however, he may secure the desired results more nearly by
developing and printing his own pictures.
Satisfactory pictures can be obtained
with almost any camera, but one with a high-grade lens and shutter is the
best for all kinds of work. A pocket camera so equipped is very convenient.
If a writer can afford to make a somewhat larger initial investment, he will
do well to buy a camera of the so-called "reflex" type. Despite its greater
weight and bulk, as compared with pocket cameras, it has the advantage of
showing the picture full size, right side up, on the top of the camera,
until the very moment that the button is pressed. These reflex cameras are
equipped with the fastest types of lens and shutter, and thus are
particularly well adapted to poorly lighted and rapidly moving objects.
A tripod should be used whenever
possible. A hastily taken snap shot
often proves unsatisfactory, whereas, if the camera had rested on a tripod,
and if a slightly longer exposure had been given, a good negative would
doubtless have resulted.
Requirements for Photographs. All
photographs intended for reproduction by the half-tone or the rotogravure
process should conform to certain requirements.
First: The standard size of photographic
prints to be used for illustrations is 5 x 7 inches, but two smaller sizes,
4 x 5 and 3½ x 5½, as well as larger sizes such as 6½ x 8½ and 8 x 10, are
also acceptable. Professional photographers generally make their negatives
for illustrations in the sizes, 5 x 7, 6½ x 8½, and 8 x 10. If a writer uses
a pocket camera taking pictures smaller than post-card size (3½ x 5½), he
must have his negatives enlarged to one of the above standard sizes.
Second: Photographic prints for
illustrations should have a glossy surface; that is, they should be what is
known as "gloss prints." Prints on rough paper seldom reproduce
satisfactorily; they usually result in "muddy" illustrations. Prints may be
mounted or unmounted; unmounted ones cost less and require less postage, but
are more easily broken in handling.
Third: Objects in the photograph should
be clear and well defined; this requires a sharp negative. For newspaper
illustrations it is desirable to have prints with a stronger contrast
between the dark and the light parts of the picture than is necessary for
the finer half-tones and rotogravures used in magazines.
Fourth: Photographs must have life and
action. Pictures of inanimate objects in which neither persons nor animals
appear, seem "dead" and unattractive to the average reader. It is necessary,
therefore, to have at least one person in every photograph. Informal,
unconventional pictures in which the subjects seem to have been "caught"
unawares, are far better than those that appear to have been posed. Good
snap-shots of persons in characteristic surroundings are always preferable
to cabinet photographs. "Action
pictures" are what all editors and all readers want.
Fifth: Pictures must "tell the story";
that is, they should illustrate the phase of the subject that they are
designed to make clear. Unless a photograph has illustrative value it fails
to accomplish the purpose for which it is intended.
Captions for Illustrations. On
the back of a photograph intended for reproduction the author should write
or type a brief explanation of what it represents. If he is skillful in
phrasing this explanation, or "caption," as it is called, the editor will
probably use all or part of it just as it stands. If his caption is
unsatisfactory, the editor will have to write one based on the writer's
explanation. A clever caption adds much to the attractiveness of an
illustration.
A caption should not be a mere label,
but, like a photograph, should have life and action. It either should
contain a verb of action or should imply one. In this and other respects, it
is not unlike the newspaper headline. Instead, for example, of the label
title, "A Large Gold Dredge in Alaska," a photograph was given the caption,
"Digs Out a Fortune Daily." A picture of a young woman feeding chickens in a
backyard poultry run that accompanied an article entitled "Did You Ever
Think of a Meat Garden?" was given the caption "Fresh Eggs and Chicken
Dinners Reward Her Labor." To illustrate an article on the danger of the pet
cat as a carrier of disease germs, a photograph of a child playing with a
cat was used with the caption, "How Epidemics Start." A portrait of a
housewife who uses a number of labor-saving devices in her home bore the
legend, "She is Reducing Housekeeping to a Science." "A Smoking Chimney is a
Bad Sign" was the caption under a photograph of a chimney pouring out smoke,
which was used to illustrate an article on how to save coal.
Longer captions describing in detail the
subject illustrated by the photograph, are not uncommon; in fact, as
more and more pictures are being used,
there is a growing tendency to place a short statement, or "overline," above
the illustration and to add to the amount of descriptive matter in the
caption below it. This is doubtless due to two causes: the increasing use of
illustrations unaccompanied by any text except the caption, and the effort
to attract the casual reader by giving him a taste, as it were, of what the
article contains.
Drawings for Illustrations.
Diagrams, working drawings, floor plans, maps, or pen-and-ink sketches are
necessary to illustrate some articles. Articles of practical guidance often
need diagrams. Trade papers like to have their articles illustrated with
reproductions of record sheets and blanks designed to develop greater
efficiency in office or store management. If a writer has a little skill in
drawing, he may prepare in rough form the material that he considers
desirable for illustration, leaving to the artists employed by the
publication the work of making drawings suitable for reproduction. A writer
who has had training in pen-and-ink drawing may prepare his own
illustrations. Such drawings should be made on bristol board with black
drawing ink, and should be drawn two or three times as large as they are
intended to appear when printed. If record sheets are to be used for
illustration, the ruling should be done with black drawing ink, and the
figures and other data should be written in with the same kind of ink.
Typewriting on blanks intended for reproduction should be done with a fresh
record black ribbon. Captions are necessary on the back of drawings as well
as on photographs.
Mailing Photographs and Drawings.
It is best to mail flat all photographs and drawings up to 8 x 10 in size,
in the envelope with the manuscript, protecting them with pieces of stout
cardboard. Only very large photographs or long, narrow panoramic ones should
be rolled and mailed in a heavy cardboard tube, separate from the
manuscript. The writer's name and address, as well as the title of the
article to be illustrated, should be written on the back of every photograph
and drawing.
As photographs and drawings are not
ordinarily returned when they are used with an article that is accepted,
writers should not promise to return such material to the persons from whom
they secure it. Copies can almost always be made from the originals when
persons furnishing writers with photographs and drawings desire to have the
originals kept in good condition.
AN OUTL |