Skip to main content

Reporter's Notebook

When you're being interviewed by a professional journalist for publication, there are a few basic rules you should follow. This is not rocket science. This is not even taxicab-driving school. I had a couple experiences in the past few days that leave me muttering, smacking my palm against my forehead and wishing I could reach through the phone to knock some sense into the nitwit on the other end.

Instead, I'll share my wisdom (or warnings?) with you.

If someone asks you to answer a question, just answer it. Don't hem and haw and start over a quote 15 times, each time saying "strike that, please don't use that, I'd rather you forget I said that..." I've learned that if you go with your gut, you'll sound much more eloquent and much less scripted (and therefore much less brainless and idiotic).

After you've finished answering the questions, please do not say any of the following:
"Oh, you've understood what I mean. Feel free to adjust my quotes to make them sound better."
"Hey, don't let me sound stupid."
"I'm not sure if that makes any sense. What do you think? Can you say it better?"

Ok, people. This is me interviewing you. If I were going to interview myself, I wouldn't have called you.

Careful prefacing any interview with the phrase: "I got burned by the media in the past..."

We writer-types either want to prove to you that we all don't completely suck, or we want to reinforce just how moronic you really are. Generally, I've found that those who say they've been misquoted were actually quoted correctly and are simply stupid.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...