Although my journalist’s style guide has a whole section on avoiding clichés, I’m excited to share with you my awesome journey towards local newspaper stardom.
Earlier in the week prospects had seemed to be shifting downwards. An editorial encounter, at which I had intended to pitch an investigative project about vaping in schools, brought this well and truly home.
The drift of this went:
‘.…local rags can’t carry reporters with airy, ill thought out ideas…..where’s the research? ..by election coming up….get out on the streets and ask people how they think life can improve …if anyone mention vapes, that’s a bonus for you. ’
Fair enough.
So I hastened to capture the zeitgeist via this line of questioning :
‘Soon there will be an election. What would you like to tell the new MP? What needs to change and how can you get involved?’
Lots of people were happy to chat including a youngish man with union flags tattooed on his eyeballs (I’m not judging), who used his index finger to make stabbing motions as he lectured.
‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong with round here. Immigrants is what’s wrong. When we get the new MP in place, mass deportation is the first priority.’
‘Who knew?’ I thought, as Index Finger stomped off in a cloud of indecent invective.
Most people were less dogmatic but equally concerned about matters such as climate change (a popular worry) and homelessness; there was no shortage of problems in need of an airing. The part of my question about their part in remedying the problem seemed to remind folk that, apart from a bit of light recycling, they had few options for changing anything very much.
Two women highlighted this:
‘We do our best by sorting our rubbish and saving petrol..’
‘..But it’s such a huge problem that world leaders need to take charge.’
Later, aiming for a decent bit of copy by tomorrow’s deadline, I shuffled through the day’s rough notes. Rather than focusing on particular problems, I wrote about the perceived lack of opportunity to discuss and influence local matters. In some cases people had reached for others to blame (Index Finger). Mostly there was a feeling of control slipping quietly away. It all went into the article.
The piece was duly published with little editorial intervention, and I threw myself half -heartedly into the general churn of local events.
I was surprised by joy the day a large package of letters and emails appeared, responding to my vox pop piece. Writers seemed to be interested and willing to discuss matters facing our town (Overport, since you ask).
The editor was now suggesting a page in the paper and possibly a section of the online edition. A Good Life For Overport was the headline and people talked over local problems and ways to address them. It became permanent feature.
Stardom arrived via a Guardian article about the by elections. Candidates were directed to read the Good Life in Overport pages. Yessss.
