follows each play, telling what play was made, who had the ball, and
what the result was. It keeps a record of all the time taken out, the
changes in players, the injuries, etc. A typical running account reads
something like this:
| Siwash advanced the ball two yards by a|
|line plunge. Kelley carried the ball |
|around left end for five yards to the |
|Tigers' 50-yard line. The Tigers gained |
|the ball on a fumble after a fake punt |
|and lined up on their own 45-yard line. |
|Time called. Score at end of first half, |
|0 to 0. |
At the end of the running account are tables, usually set in smaller
type, giving the line-up of the two teams and the tabulated results of
the game. Some papers arrange the tables as follows:
|Siwash: Tigers: |
| |
|Smith...........left end.......Jones |
| |
|Brown.........left tackle......Green-Wood|
| |
|McCarthy.......left guard......Connor |
| |
|Hall (Capt.).....centre........Jacobs |
| |
|Etc. |
Other papers use this system which brings the opposing players together:
|Siwash: Tigers: |
| |
|l. e........Smith : Williams.......r. e. |
| |
|l. t........Brown : Jackson........r. t. |
| |
|l. g.....McCarthy : Cook (Capt.)...r. g. |
| |
|c....(Capt.) Hall : Jacobs............c. |
| |
|Etc. |
The tabulated results at the end may be something like this:
|Score by periods: |
| |
|Tigers....................0 2 1 3--6 |
| |
|Siwash....................0 0 0 0--0 |
| |
|Touchdown--Brown. Goal from touchdown-- |
|O'Brien. Umpire--Enslley, Purdue. |
|Referee--Holt, Lehigh. Field |
|judge--Hackensaa, Chicago. Head |
|linesman--Seymour, Delaware. Time of |
|periods--fifteen minutes. |
Dispatches and stories on baseball games and track meets are usually
accompanied by tables of results, similar to the above but arranged in a
slightly different way. The form may be learned from any reputable
sporting sheet.
XV
HUMAN INTEREST STORIES
In our study of newspaper writing up to this point we have been entirely
concerned with forms, rules, and formulas; every kind of story which we
have studied has had a definite form which we have been charged to
follow. We have been commanded always to put the gist of the story in
the first sentence and to answer the reader's customary questions in the
same breath. Now we have come to a class of newspaper stories in which
we are given absolute freedom from conventional formulas. In fact, the
human interest story is different from other newspaper stories largely
because of its lack of forms and rules. It does not begin with the gist
of its news--perhaps because it rarely has any real news--and it answers
no customary questions in the first paragraph; its method is the natural
order of narrative. The human interest story stands alone as the only
literary attempt in the entire newspaper and, as such, a discussion of
it can hardly tell more than what it is, without any great attempt to
tell how to write it. For our purposes, the distinguishing marks of the
human interest story are its lack of real news value and of conventional
form, and its appeal to human emotions.
The human interest story has grown out of a number of causes. Up to a
very recent time newspapers have been content with printing news in its
barest possible form--facts and nothing but facts. Their appeal has been
only to the brain. But gradually editors have come to realize that, if
many monthly magazines can exist on a diet of fiction that appeals only
to the emotions, a newspaper may well make use of some of the material
for true stories of emotion that comes to its office. They have realized
that newsiness is not the only essential, that a story does not always
have to possess true news value to be worth printing--it may be
interesting because it appeals to the reader's sympathy or simply
because it entertains him. Hence they began to print stories that had
little value as news but, however trivial their subject, were so well
written that they presented the humor and pathos of everyday life in a
very entertaining way. The sensational newspapers took advantage of the
opportunity but they shocked their readers in that they tried to appeal
to the emotions through the kind of facts that they printed, rather
than through the presentation of the facts. They did not see that the
effectiveness of the emotional appeal depends upon the way in which a
human interest story is written, rather than upon the story itself.
Therefore they shocked their readers with extremely pathetic facts
presented in the usual newspaper way, while the journals which stood for
high literary excellence were able to handle trivial human interest
material very effectively. Now all the newspapers of the land have
learned the form and are printing effective human interest stories
every day.
Another reason behind the growth of the human interest story is the
curse of cynicism which newspaper work imprints upon so many of its
followers. Every editor knows that no ordinary reporter can work a
police court or hospital run day after day for any length of time
without losing his sensibilities and becoming hardened to the sterner
facts in human life. Misfortune and bitterness become so common to him
that he no longer looks upon them as misfortune and misery, but just as
news. Gradually his stories lose all sympathy and kindliness and he
writes of suffering men as of so many wooden ten-pins. When he has
reached this attitude of cynicism, his usefulness to his paper is almost
gone, for a reporter must always see and write the news from the
reader's sympathetic point of view. To keep their reporters'
sensibilities awake editors have tried various expedients which have
been more or less successful. One of these is the "up-lift run" for cub
reporters--a round of philanthropic news sources to teach them the
business of reporting before they become cynical. Another is the human
interest story. If a reporter knows that his paper is always ready and
glad to print human interest stories full of kindliness and human
sympathy, he is ever on the watch for human interest subjects and
consequently forces himself to see things in a sympathetic way. Thus he
unconsciously wards off cynicism. The search for human interest material
is a modification of the "sob squad" work of the sensational papers, on
more delicate lines.
A human interest story is primarily an attempt to portray human
feeling--to talk about men as men and not as names or things. It is an
attempt to look upon life with sympathetic human eyes and to put living
people into the reports of the day's news. If a man falls and breaks his
neck, a bald recital of the facts deals with him only as an animal or an
inanimate name. The fact is interesting as one item in the list of human
misfortunes, but no more. And yet there are many people to whom this
man's accident is more than an interesting incident--it is a very
serious matter, perhaps a calamity. To his family he was everything in
the world; more than a mere means of support, he was a living human
being whom they loved. The bald report of his death does not consider
them; it does not consider the man's own previous existence. But if we
could get into the hearts of his wife and his mother and his children,
we could feel something of the real significance of the accident. This
is what the human interest story tries to do. It does not necessarily
strive for any effect, pathetic or otherwise, but tries simply to treat
the victim of the misfortune as a human being. The reporter endeavors to
see what in the story made people cry and then tries to reproduce it. In
the same way in another minor occurrence, he attempts to reproduce the
side of an incident that made people laugh. Either incident may or may
not have had news value in its baldest aspect, but the sympathetic
treatment makes the resulting human interest story worth printing.
There are various kinds of human interest stories. The common ground in
them all is usually their lack of any intrinsic news value. Many a
successful human interest story has been printed although it contained
no one of the elements of news values that were outlined earlier in this
book. In fact, one of the uses of the human interest story is to
utilize newspaper by-products that have no news value in themselves.
Hence the human interest story has no news feature to be played up and,
since it does not contain any real news, it does not have to answer any
customary questions. In form it is much like a short story of fiction,
since it depends on style and the ordinary rules of narration. The
absence of a lead, more than any other characteristic, distinguishes the
human interest story from the news story, in form. We have worked hard
to learn to play up the gist of the news in our news stories; now we
come to a story which makes no attempt to play up its news--in fact, it
may leave its most interesting content until the end and spring it as a
surprise in the last line. To be sure, most human interest stories have
and indicate a timeliness. The story may have no news value but it is
always concerned with a recent event and usually tells at the outset
when the event occurred. Almost without exception, the examples quoted
in this chapter show their timeliness by telling in the first sentence
when the event occurred. So much for the outward form of the human
interest story.
=1. Pathetic Story.=--One of the many kinds of human interest stories is
the pathetic story. Although it does not openly strive for pathos, it is
pathetic in that it tells the story of a human misfortune, simply and
clearly, with all the details that made the incident sad. It is the
story that attempts to put the reader into the very reality of the pain
and sorrow of every human life. Sometimes it makes him cry, sometimes it
makes him shudder, and sometimes it disgusts him, but it always shows
him misfortune as it really is. It looks down behind the outward actions
and words into the hearts of its actors and shows us motives and
feelings rather than facts. But just as soon as any attempt at pathos
becomes evident, the story loses its effectiveness. Its only means are
clear perception and absolute truthfulness. Here is an example of a
pathetic human interest story taken from a daily paper:
| Rissa Sachs' child mind yesterday |
|evolved a tragic answer to the question, |
|"What shall be done with the children of |
|divorced parents?" |
| |
| She took her life. |
| |
| Rissa was 14 years old. The divorce |
|decree that robbed her of a home was less |
|than a week old. It was granted to her |
|mother, Mrs. Mellisa Sachs, by Judge |
|Brentano last Saturday. |
| |
| When the divorce case was called for |
|trial Rissa found that she would be |
|compelled to testify. Reluctantly she |
|corroborated her mother's story that her |
|father, Benjamin Sachs, had struck Mrs. |
|Sachs. It was largely due to this |
|testimony that the decree was granted and |
|the custody of the child awarded to Mrs. |
|Sachs. |
| |
| Then the troubles of the girl began in |
|real earnest. She loved her mother dearly. |
|But her father, who had been a companion |
|to her as well as a parent, was equally |
|dear to her. |
| |
| Both parents pleaded with her. Mrs. |
|Sachs told Rissa she could not live |
|without her. The father told the girl, in |
|a conversation in a downtown hotel several |
|days ago, that he would disown her unless |
|she went to live with him. |
| |
| Every hour increased the perplexities of |
|the situation for the child. She could not |
|decide to give up either of her parents |
|for fear of offending the other. So she |
|sacrificed her own life and gave up both. |
| |
| Thursday evening, on returning from |
|school to the Sachs home at 4529 Racine |
|avenue, Rissa talked long and earnestly |
|with her mother. Then she retired to her |
|room, turned on the gas and, clothed, lay |
|down upon her bed to await death and |
|relief from troubles that have driven |
|older heads to despair. |
| |
| At the inquest yesterday afternoon the |
|grief-stricken mother told the story of |
|her daughter's difficulties. She said that |
|Rissa had declared she could not live if |
|compelled to give up either of her |
|parents, but added that she never had |
|believed it.--_Chicago Record-Herald._ |
This is a pathetic human interest story in that it attempts to give the
human significance of an incident which in itself would have little news
value. Perhaps, in the matter of words, there is a slight straining for
pathos. The form, it will be noted, is decidedly different from that of
a news story on the same incident and, although the timeliness is given
in the first line, there is no attempt to present the gist of the story
in a formal lead. The source of the news is indicated in the last
paragraph.
=2. Humorous Story.=--Another kind of human interest story is the
humorous story. Its humor, like the pathos of a pathetic story, does not
come from an attempt to be funny, but from the truthful presentation of
a humorous incident, from the incongruity and ludicrousness of the
incident itself. The writer tries to see what elements in a given
incident made him laugh and then portrays them so clearly and truthfully
that his readers cannot help laughing with him. The subject may be the
most trivial thing in the world, not worth a line as a news story, and
yet it may be told in such a way that it is worth a half-column write-up
that will stand out as the gem of the whole edition. But after all the
effectiveness depends upon the humor in the original subject and the
truthfulness of the telling. The following humorous human interest
story, which occupied a place on the front page, was built up out of an
incident almost devoid of news value:
| One of Johnnie Wilt's original ideas |
|for entertaining his twin sister |
|Charlotte is to build a big bonfire on |
|the floor of their playroom. |
| |
| Johnnie, who is 4 years old, carried his |
|plan into execution at the Wilt home, 2474 |
|Lake View avenue, for the first time |
|yesterday afternoon, with results that |
|made a lasting impression upon his mind |
|and the finishings of the interior of the |
|house. |
| |
| The thing was suggested to him by a |
|bonfire he saw a man build in the street. |
|Charlotte hadn't seen the other fire. For |
|some reason Charlotte's feminine mind |
|refused to understand just what the fire |
|was like. |
| |
| Consequently nothing remained for |
|Johnnie to do but build a fire of his own. |
|He piled all of the newspapers and |
|playthings that could be found in the |
|middle of the room and then applied a |
|match. |
| |
| When the flames leaped to the ceiling, |
|however, and a cloud of smoke filled the |
|room, Johnnie began to doubt the wisdom of |
|the move. While Charlotte ran to tell a |
|maid he retreated to that haven of |
|youthful fugitives--the space beneath a |
|couch. |
| |
| The frightened maid summoned the fire |
|engines and the fire was soon |
|extinguished. But Mrs. Wilt discovered |
|that Johnnie had disappeared. She |
|telephoned to Charles T. Wilt, president |
|of the trunk company that bears his name, |
|and half hysterically told of the fire and |
|the disappearance of Johnnie. |
| |
| Just then there was a scrambling sound |
|from beneath the couch. Johnnie, looking |
|as serious as a 4-year-old face can look, |
|walked out. |
| |
| Mrs. Wilt seized him and, to an |
|accompaniment of "I-won't-do-it-agains," |
|crushed him to her bosom. Last reports |
|from the Wilt home were that Johnnie had |
|not yet been punished for his |
|deed.--_Chicago Record-Herald._ |
The student will notice how all the facts of the story and the answers
to the reader's questions are worked in here and there, how the content
of a news story lead is scattered throughout the entire account.
=3. Writing the Human Interest Story.=--It is one thing to be able to
distinguish material for a human interest story and another to be able
to write the story. The whole effectiveness of the story, as we have
seen, depends upon the way it is written. Many a poorly written,
ungrammatical news story is printed simply because it contains facts
that are of interest, regardless of the way in which they are presented.
But never is a poorly written human interest story printed; simply
because the facts in it have little interest themselves and the story's
usefulness depends entirely upon the presentation of the facts. Hence,
the human interest story, more than any other newspaper story, must be
well written. And yet there are no rules to assist in the writing of
such a story. In fact, its very nature depends upon originality and
newness in form and treatment.
In the first place, we cannot fall back upon the conventional lead for a
beginning, because a lead would be out of place. As we have said before,
the human interest story does not begin with a lead for the reason that
it has no striking news content to present in the lead. In many cases
the whole story depends upon cleverly arranged suspense; if the content
is given in a lead at the beginning suspense is of course impossible.
The human interest story has no more need of a lead than does a short
story--in some ways a human interest story is very much like a short
story--and a short story that gives its climax in the first paragraph
would hardly be written or read. But, just like the short story, a human
interest story must begin in an attractive way. In the study of short
story writing almost half of the study is devoted to learning how to
begin the story, on the theory that the reader is some sort of a
fugitive animal that must be lassoed by an attractive and interesting
beginning. The theory is of course a true one and it holds good in the
case of human interest stories.
But no rules can be laid down to govern the beginning of human interest
or short stories. Each story must begin in its own way--and each must
begin in a different way. Some writers of short stories begin with
dialogue, others with a clean-cut witticism, others with attractive
explanation or description, others with a clever apology. The list is
endless. This endless list is ready for the reporter who is trying to
write human interest stories. But the choosing must be his own. He must
select the beginning that seems best adapted to his story. As an
inspiration to reporters who are trying to write human interest stories,
a few beginnings clipped from daily papers are given here. Some are good
and some are bad; the goodness or badness in each case depends upon
individual taste. They can hardly be classified in more than a general
way for originality is opposed to all classifications. They are merely
suggestions.
A striking quotation or a bit of apt dialogue is commonly used to
attract attention to a story. Here are some examples:
| "Burglars," whispered Mrs. Vermilye to |
|herself and she took another furtive peek |
|out of the windows of her rooms on the |
|sixth floor of the, etc. |
| "Speaking of peanuts," observed the man |
|with the red whiskers, "they ain't the |
|only thing in the world what is small." |
|Etc. |
| "Ales, Wines, Liquors and Cigars!" You |
|see this sign in the windows of every |
|corner life-saving station. But what |
|would you say if you saw it blazing over |
|the entrance to the Colony Club, that |
|rendezvous for the little and big sisters |
|of the rich at Madison avenue and |
|Thirtieth street? Etc. |
+------------------------------------------+
|WANTED--Bright educated lady as secretary |
|to business man touring northwest states |
|and Alaska: give reference, ability; age, |
|description. Address E-640, care Bee. |
| |
| (7)-680 19x. |
+------------------------------------------+
| The above innocent appearing want ad in |
|_The Bee_, although alluring in its |
|prospects to a young woman desiring a |
|summer vacation, is the principal factor |
|in the arrest of one M. W. Williams, etc. |
A well-written first sentence in a human interest story often purports
to tell the whole story, like a news story lead, and really tells only
enough to make you want to read further. Here are a few examples:
| His son's suspicions and a can opener |
|convinced Andrew Sherrer last Saturday |
|that he had been fleeced out of $500 by |
|two clever manipulators of an ancient |
|"get-something-for-nothing" swindle. So |
|strong was the victim's confidence, etc. |
| There's a stubborn, unlaid ghost, a |
|gnome, a goblin, a swart fairy at the |
|least, who has settled down for the |
|winter in a perfectly respectable cellar |
|over in Brooklyn and whiles away the |
|dismal hours of the night by chopping |
|spectral cordwood with a phantom axe. |
|Instead of going to board with Mrs. |
|Pepper or another medium and being of |
|some use in the world and having a |
|pleasant, dim-lighted cabinet all its |
|own, this unhappy ghost--or ghostess--is |
|pestering Marciana Rose of 1496 Bergen |
|street, who owns the cellar and the house |
|over it--over both the ghost and the |
|cellar. Etc. |
| The gowk who calls up 3732 Rector today |
|will get a splinter in his finger if he |
|scratches his head. Nothing doing with |
|3732 Rector. From early morn till dewy |
|eve Mr. Fish, Mr. C. Horse, Mr. Bass, Mr. |
|Skate and other inmates of the aquarium |
|will be inaccessible by 'phone. Etc. |
| Under all the saffron banners and the |
|sprawling dragons clawing at red suns |
|over the roofs of Chinatown yesterday |
|there was a tension of unrest and of |
|speculation. It all had to do with the |
|luncheon to be given to his Imperial |
|Highness Prince Tsai Tao and the members |
|of his staff at the Tuxedo Restaurant, 2 |
|Doyers street, at noon to-morrow. Etc. |
| Man and wife, sitting side by side as |
|pupils, was the interesting spectacle |
|which provided the feature of the |
|elementary night school opening last |
|night. Etc. |
| Two young Germans of Berlin, neither |
|quite 18 years of age, had a perfectly |
|uncorking time aboard the White Star |
|liner Majestic, in yesterday. They were |
|favorites with the smoke-room stewards. |
|They learned later that man is born unto |
|trouble as the corks fly upward. Etc. |
| It was a long black overcoat with a |
|velvet collar, big cuffed sleeves, and |
|broad of shoulder, and looked decidedly |
|warm and comfy. It stood in one of the |
|large display windows of ----, and |
|covered the deficiencies of a waxy dummy, |
|who stared in a surprised sort of manner |
|out into the street and appeared to be |
|looking at nothing. Etc. |
| The bellboys put him up to it and then |
|Marcus caused a lot of trouble. Marcus is |
|a parrot who has been spending the winter |
|in one of the large Broadway hotels. Etc. |
| Lame, old, but uncomplaining, |
|remembering only his joy when a visitor |
|came to him, and forgetting to be bitter |
|because of the wrongs done him, meeting |
|his rescuer with a wag of the tail meant |
|to be joyful, a St. Bernard dog set an |
|example, etc. |
Some human interest stories begin, and effectively, too, with a direct
personal appeal to the reader; thus:
| If you've never seen anybody laugh with |
|his hands, you should have eased yourself |
|up against a railing at the Barnum and |
|Bailey circus in Madison Square Garden |
|yesterday afternoon and watched a band of |
|250 deaf mute youngsters, all bedecked in |
|their bestest, signalling all over the |
|Garden. Etc. |
| If you've ever sat in the enemy's camp |
|when the Blue eleven lunged its last yard |
|for a touchdown and had your hair ruffled |
|by the roar that swept across the |
|gridiron, you can guess how 1,500 Yale |
|men yelled at the Waldorf last night for |
|Bill Taft of '78. Etc. |
A question is often used at the beginning of a human interest story:
| A near-suicide or an accident. Which? |
|Keeper Bean is somewhat puzzled to say |
|which, but it is quite certain it will |
|not be tried again. At least, Keeper Bean |
|does not think it will. |
| |
| But, it was a sad, sad Sunday for the |
|little white-faced monkey. For hours he |
|lay as dead, etc. |
Many of these stories, animal or otherwise, begin with a name:
| Long Tom, a Brahma rooster that had |
|been the "bad inmate" of Jacob Meister's |
|farm at West Meyersville, N. J., for |
|three years, paid the penalty of his |
|crimes Christmas morning when he was |
|beheaded after his owner had condemned |
|him to death. Bad in life, he was good in |
|a potpie that day, etc. |