Lisa Hrabluk

I love my TweetDeck.

That and Radio 2 are my near-constant companions during the day; a nice little mash-up of old and new media.

Watching all those tweets and status updates scroll by has got me thinking about my j-school days at Ryerson and the proudly ink-stained, notebook-toting profs who drilled into our heads the inverted pyramid style of writing and sparse prose for those single column stories.

Sure we all wanted to explore literary narrative devices, but they kept pulling us back, demanding we write sentences that made every word count.

There’s an art to it and once upon a time, the very best practitioners put their work on display every morning. There on the front page screamed out headlines that were designed to draw us in and make us want to read more.

Its a lost art but I have a hunch its about to make a comeback.

My favourite tweeters and Facebook dwellers offer me wit, info and a little teaser. That’s what it takes to make me click the hotlink and see what lies beyond those 140 characters.

As for the rest, well, try as I might, I just can’t fake it – I’m just not that into you.

Hey, here are some quick observations and pieces of advice for those about to wade into the ocean of information that is today’s media world.

1. It all begins with ‘why’

Everyone thinks they’re interesting.

They’re wrong.

Interesting people have a story that connects with their audience and the easiest way to make that connection is to give people what they want. Maybe it is an important piece of information, a neat new product that fits into their lives, an event they want to attend or – and this is the award-winning journalism category – it grabs them emotionally.

Everything else is  Charlie Brown’s teacher – a droning noise in the background.

Before you pitch ask yourself: Why should anyone care?

After you’ve answered that question, fill in your story with the rest of the W5 family (Who, What, When and Where) and their geeky cousin, How.

2. Motherly advice

Reporters aren’t scary; they just play it up on TV… and in the newspaper and on radio.

No really, we’re nice people.

Harried, understaffed, stressed-out people who aren’t easily impressed.

No pressure.

Talking to a journalist shouldn’t be a horrible experience (unless of course you’ve made off with the company till – then you’re in for a rough ride.)

Here’s some simple tips to remember when you see a reporter headed your way:

Be polite. That means don’t begin the conversation with “I know what you media types are like…” or “You don’t want news, you want sensationalism”, or that old favourite “I know what sells papers.” Really? You do? Well share it with us buddy because we sure as heck can’t seem to sell ‘em these days.

Journalists hate when people talk to them like that. Sort of like walking into your lawyer’s office and telling a lawyer joke or telling your contractor that he’s no Mike Holmes.

Dress appropriately. Straighten your tie. Fix your collar. Would it kill you to wear a little lipstick? If you’re going to be on TV, make sure you look good. Your audience will assess what you have to say by what you’re wearing, so if you want to be respected, don’t show up looking like a slob. So don’t wear weird stripes or patterns that look cool in person but odd in TV’s 2D world.

Smile. A nice smile, not a goofy smile or a pasted on one. A real smile. Particularly when you are on the radio because you can hear a smile over the airwaves.

Tell it to me straight. People know when they are being lied to and when they’re not getting the whole story. So don’t lie and don’t avoid the question. Answer it to the best of your ability and don’t be afraid to say you don’t know that answer. If you don’t know something, offer to get them the answer or direct them to someone who can.

This is turning out to be a weird week.

Today I’m speaking at a Lunch n’ Learn session for young and new entrepreneurs at our local economic development agency. The topic is “Getting Press” and I’m supposed to explain how you grab the attention of reporters and editors so they’ll do a story on you and your business.

Meanwhile, earlier this week, I spoke to two journalist friends about life after the newsroom. One, in Ontario, was recently laid off from a newspaper and the second, out here in the Maritimes, is a bit worried about their future at CBC. Quite literally I got off the phone with one of them and five minutes later the other called.

So I’ve got one group asking my advice on how to get into the newsroom so they can make money for their business and the other wants to know how to make money after they’re kicked out of the newsroom.

I have the same answer for both and it ain’t the old newsroom.

Buzz, influence (and god willing) money lies in the hands of communities.

Traditional media organizations have defined community as the physical place where people live – the town, city, region or country – but tech and social media companies have expanded that definition to mean like-minded people who gather online or in person to talk about the things they share.

Twitter is a massive community; so is Facebook.

Amazon.com (and .ca) has proven a corporation can create a shared experience and turn customers into community members.

Media organizations – yeah, those companies that need to continue to exist so me and my colleagues can continue to earn a living as journalists – need to evolve into online communities. That means inviting others to contribute to the conversation. Hint: That’s not the comment boxes at the bottom of stories. That’s the domain of ranters and that’s why the rest of us stay away.

I’m actually more optimistic about the future of news gathering and analysis than most of my colleagues. I think the music industry and iTunes offers a hint of where we are headed. People are willing to pay for certain things, particularly production quality and authenticity (straight from the source, or creator).

In the past the media organization was the assurance of both. In this new world, the journalist fills that role. That will mean writers and journalists are going to have to take those pitching skills they honed in story meetings and use it to generate business – and audiences. Some will get to do it within a newsroom, albeit a smaller one. Most, I predict, will do it from their homes – pitching to a variety of different places and, most likely in a variety of different forms.

That’s a scary new world for those of us who have spent our careers in newsroom working to deadline.

It’s also really exciting and I intend to enjoy the ride.

Damn, I fell down the well of online information and it took me a while to climb out.

I’ve got a vase of lilies blooming beside me, the sun is shining on my keyboard and I came across this neat little web project yesterday, courtesy of bookninja, that go me thinking.

Project Bookmark Canada is going to mark the spots across the country that are imagined by writers and then described in their books and poems.

Michael Ondaatje & Toronto mayor David Miller will launch the initiative Thursday, April 23 by installing one of the bookmarks – a permanent marker that describes the book and the passage that references the area. The first bookmark is going in at the Bloor viaduct, which is referenced in Ondaatje’s In the Skin of a Lion.

Its a cool idea. I just finished reading Old City Hall by Robert Rotenberg, which is set in Toronto and makes a point of mentioning Toronto landmarks, and – don’t laugh – I just read the Twilight series, and while it is a bit overwrought, author Stephenie Meyer, does make the Pacific Northwest region one of the central characters in her vampire love story.

Some other books that stand out for me are:

• Wayne Johnson helped me understand Newfoundland in a far deeper way than any history book with his novel Colony of Unrequited Dreams;
• Robertson Davies was inspired by Kingston for his Salterton Trilogy, Toronto for the Deptford Trilogy and U of T for his Cornish Trilogy – and I wanted to experience all of them;
• Stephen Leacock’s Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town is a book I reread and which has sat on my desk, next to my computer since my early days in journalism;
• Elizabeth Hay took me way up north in Late Nights on Air and of, course,
• David Adam Richards has captured the poverty of rural New Brunswick in his ongoing study of Miramichi in his novels.

If I were to put up a bookmark in Saint John, I would put it in the deep South End, to mark poet Alden Nowlan’s place in Canadian literature with his piece “Britain Street”.

This is a street at war.
The smallest children
battle with clubs
till the blood comes,
shout ‘fuck you!’
like a rallying cry ––

while mothers shriek
from doorsteps and windows
as though the very names
of their young were curses:

‘Brian! Marlene!
Damn you! God damn you!’

or waddle into the street
to beat their own with switches:
‘I’ll teach you, Brian!
I’ll teach you, God damn you!’

On this street
even the dogs
would rather fight
than eat.

I have lived here nine months
and in all that time
have never once heard
a gentle word spoken.

I like to tell myself
that is only because
gentle words are whispered
and harsh words shouted.

Where would you put a bookmark?