An open letter from journalists at NPR

Martha note: This letter was in this morning's Washington Post. It meant a lot to me, as someone who works as a public radio journalist, and I just thought I'd pass it along. 

The text of Cathy Rec's Civic Soapbox, "Personal Problems," is posted immediately below the letter.

Thursday, March 10, 2011; 8:17 PM

Below is the full text of an open letter signed by journalists at National Public Radio.

Dear Listeners and Supporters,

We, and our colleagues at NPR News, strive every day to bring you the highest quality news programs possible. So, like you, we were appalled by the offensive comments made recently by NPR's now former Senior Vice President for Development. His words violated the basic principles by which we live and work: accuracy and open-mindedness, fairness and respect.

Those comments have done real damage to NPR. But we're confident that the culture of professionalism we have built, and the journalistic values we have upheld for the past four decades, will prevail. We are determined to continue bringing you the daily journalism that you've come to expect and rely upon: fair, fact-based, in-depth reporting from at home and around the world.

With your support we have no doubt NPR will come out of this difficult period stronger than ever.

Thank you,

Robert Siegel
Michele Norris
Melissa Block
Renee Montagne
Scott Simon
Liane Hansen
Guy Raz
Michel Martin
Neal Conan
Susan Stamberg
Nina Totenberg
Linda Wertheimer
Daniel Zwerdling
John Ydstie
Richard Harris
Tom Gjelten
Howard Berkes
Mike Shuster
Laura Sullivan
Lynn Neary
Jacki Lyden
Mara Liasson
Cokie Roberts
John Burnett

The bad apple's dirty laundry, thoroughly and publicly washed . . .

It occurred to me that before I took a look at reaction to Ron Schiller's now-infamous lunch conversation, I should first report what the man said.  This was lifted from npr.org's constantly updated blog, two-way, which covers breaking news.:

Ron Schiller, at THE lunch

NPR's soon-to-be-departing senior vice president for fundraising Ron Schiller is seen and heard on a videotape released this morning telling two men who were posing as members of a fictitious Muslim Education Action Center Trust that: 

— "The Tea Party is fanatically involved in people's personal lives and very fundamental Christian 

— I wouldn't even call it Christian. It's this weird evangelical kind of move." 

— "Tea Party people" aren't "just Islamaphobic, but really xenophobic, I mean basically they are, they believe in sort of white, middle-America gun-toting. I mean, it's scary. They're seriously racist, racist people." 

— "I think what we all believe is if we don't have Muslim voices in our schools, on the air ... it's the same thing we faced as a nation when we didn't have female voices." In the heavily edited tape, that comment followed Schiller being told by one of the men that their organization "was originally founded by a few members of the Muslim Brotherhood in America." There's no sign in the edited tape that Schiller reacted in any way after being told of the group's alleged connection to an Islamic group that appeared to be connected with Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood. 

— That NPR "would be better off in the long run without federal funding," a position in direct conflict with the organization's official position. 

Schiller is also heard laughing when one of the men jokes that NPR should be known as "National Palestinian Radio."

There was also a David Folkenflik story last night on  All Things Considered, and Larry Abramson reports about it today on Morning Edition. NPR has pledged to cover continue following  developments.

Early last evening, Slate reported:

NPR has released more statements. First, Schiller walks the plank and says he resigned.

While the meeting I participated in turned out to be a ruse, I made statements during the course of the meeting that are counter to NPR’s values and also not reflective of my own beliefs. I offer my sincere apology to those I offended. I resigned from NPR, previously effective May 6th, to accept another job. In an effort to put this unfortunate matter behind us, NPR and I have agreed that my resignation is effective today

Next, NPR CEO Vivian Schiller -- no relation -- tries to wrap a bow around this.

Ron Schiller’s remarks are contrary to what NPR stands for and deeply distressing to reporters, editors and others who bring fairness, civility and respect for a wide variety of viewpoints to their work every day.

So here are a sprinkling of conservative reactions to the "Mr. Schilller Does Lunch" video  . . .

Cybercast News Service (CSN, founded as Conservative News Service) reports this reaction from Brent Bozell, founder and president of the Media Research Center, a conservative media watchdog group:

Leo Brent Bozell III

“NPR hates Middle America, plain and simple,” said Bozell in his statement.  “This week’s utterances from NPR officials underline that these taxpayer-funded bureaucrats loathe most of the taxpayers who feather their comfortable nest. Their contempt for ‘scary’ Middle Americans belies their ridiculous claims of concern for rural stations and their absurd declaration that somehow NPR is the epitome of fairness and balance.”

No wonder the radical left-wing billionaire George Soros has funneled $1.8 million into NPR,” said Bozell.  “They are doing his bidding and calling it ‘news.’”

Rush Limbaugh played the tape of Mr. Shiller's lunch conversation live on his radio program yesterday, sprinkling in such comments as

Rush Limbaugh

"... this guy Schiller is not a leader of anything.  He's a coward.  He's an effeminate little waif sitting up there waxing eloquent about how woe is the country because not everybody is as smart as he is -- while he's being duped! He's in the middle of being duped here by a couple of people who have set him up royally. ..." 

"...That is what's gonna come back and bite his tiny little geisha ah -- uh, butt.  We'd be better off without federal funding.  Ha! Now, he's out there admitting it, but his excuse will be, "Well, look, I'm trying to separate $5 million from these guys."  Of course I'm gonna tell 'em -- but this, behind closed doors, this is what's gonna gnaw at this guy's geisha butt, I guarantee you.  You're listening here to the intellectual Ron Schiller. ..."

Fox News reported that:

Jenny Beth Martin

The Tea Party Patriots slammed NPR for the Schiller comments Tuesday, calling on Congress to de-fund the radio network in light of the remarks.  

"Mr. Schiller's latest comments provoke a larger question -- how long will we as a nation be willing to tolerate the arrogance of the self-appointed ruling elite?" Tea Party Patriots coordinator Jenny Beth Martin said in a statement. 

Talking Points Memo, TPM, ("commentary on political events from a politically left perspective, by Joshua Micah Marshall") reported in its story,  "Tea Party Patriots Rally Against NPR," that:

In addition to his comments on the Tea Party, Schiller is shown in the video saying that NPR does not need federal funding, which the Patriots argue demonstrates that House Republican efforts to cut the news organization's funds are on the mark.

"Mr. Schiller himself candidly admits in the video that NPR doesn't need federal funding, and welcomes the opportunity to slant their reporting without the oversight of the taxpayer," Mark Meckler, national coordinator for Tea Party Patriots wrote in an e-mail to supporters today. "At a time when the country is upside down by more than a trillion dollars, can we really afford to provide huge subsidies to entities that openly state that they don't need the money? Let's take his advice and pass legislation that would defund the clearly biased news organization that is out of touch with Americans across the country."

The House, as I'm sure you're aware, recently passed a bill* that would defund the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which is a major source of funding for NPR affiliates such as WMRA. Without its network of affiliates broadcasting its programs, NPR would struggle to survive.

However, after googling "reaction Ron Shilller NPR," I was surprised to find that while the story of Mr. Schiller's lunch was everywhere, reaction to it was mostly confined to those who, like Mr. Limbaugh, react for a living.

To me this means that those who would defund NPR are contented to sit quietly and let NPR make their case for them. Right  now, NPR's current worst enemy appears to be its own management.

The public's reaction to the straight reporting of Mr. Schiller's lunch makes a pretty good case for this view of the situation.

This was posted by imkingdad on CNS:

If you've seen the video there is no way one can justify another dime of Taxpayer Money to these Left-wing criminals at PBS & NPR. 

About as Anti-American a bunch of folks as you'll ever find outside of a CPUSA meeting.

And this came from New York Times reader TomFl,

"I like NPR.  

After the Williams /Fox incident, how could an NPR executive be so dumb?  

Unbelievable. Another self inflicted wound." 

Your thoughts?

*link leads to an article posted this morning in The Atlantic on the same subject as this blog. 

The view from the top . . . of NPR, that is!

Martha note: I was about half-way through my daily blog post this morning, when Tom DuVal sent out an e-mail -- which is always a big event in my professional life. 

This particular e-mail contained the text of NPR CEO Vivian Schiller's speech last Monday before the National Press Club, during which, in my opinion, she makes a pretty good case for keeping NPR (and NPR stations) as part of our national conversation. 

So, on this day when we're asking you to put your money where your ears are by calling 1-800-677-9672 and helping us chip away at WMRA's recent fundraiser shortfall, Ms. Schiller's words seemed somehow more compelling than mine. It's long, but informative; well-worth reading if you're invested in NPR (and WMRA!) surviving these fiscally and politically challenging times.

Particularly interesting to me is the part Ms. Schiller didn't write: the e-mail from Lourdes Garcia-Navarro.

Lourdes Garcia-Navarro at work

I want to begin by reading an email from NPR reporter Lourdes Garcia-Navarro – Lulu we call her. She sent it to her editor after she and a newspaper colleague made their way into Eastern Libya. They were the second team of Western journalists to make it through.

She writes:

We basically pushed our way in.   We walked across the border and were incredibly lucky to find people to drive us and guide us. Yes, we had an unfortunate incident at a looted army base where people were nervous about being photographed and we were surrounded and a photographer from the WSJ had his camera smashed. But that has proved to be the exception.

Everywhere else we've gone we've been greeted with tears and shouts. This is a country that hasn’t been exposed to the western media. And everyone just said they were so relieved to see us. They were desperate to have their story told…

In Bayda, we were led to a huge hall that used to be the People's Revolutionary Council building where the first meeting of the new local government was being held. Everyone was stunned to see us. They gave us a standing ovation and started shouting and crying.

I know it’s corny, but I’ve never been prouder to be a journalist.

Lulu’s note is a potent reminder of the meaning and impact of a free press – and it’s at the core of NPR’s mission: powerful journalism in the public interest.

This is what I’d like talk about today. What NPR and public radio stand for. How we think about our audience. The nature of our funding model. And a vision for the future.

For well over a decade, the media conversation has been dominated by reports of shrinking newsrooms, collapsing business models, game-changing technologies.

But the breathlessness over the shifting media landscape can blur what the work of journalists is really about -- reporters on the ground. Working sources and chasing leads to tell stories that have meaning and impact. And bearing witness -- often at great personal risk.

All good news organizations, whether public or private, share in that critical work. For those of us in public media, it is our only mission.

It’s been 44 years since the passage of the Public Broadcasting Act, which established the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

Vivan Schiller addresses the audience at the NPC

For those too young to remember, that was a time when the big three broadcast networks had foreign bureaus all over the world – not to mention deep reporting staffs, and slots on the network schedule for hour-long documentaries. Yet even then, there was concern that commercial interests would drive the networks away from quality news and cultural programming.

And so public broadcasting was born.

NPR EXPANDS ITS REPORTING

I don’t need to tell this audience about the changes that have happened in our industry in the last 10 years – let alone the last 40. The economics of the news business are undergoing seismic change. Demand for news has never been higher. And yet mainstream news organizations continue to cut back the number of journalists available to report the news - particularly at the local level.

And so NPR has worked to try to fill that void in newsgathering capacity, and we’re working with our member stations that do the same.

What does this look like today?

• 17 bureaus overseas - far more than any of those “big three” has today. We are opening new bureaus – while still retaining a full-time presence in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Jerusalem, Cairo, East Africa, West Africa, China (two bureaus there actually) and other spots around the world. As we speak NPR journalists are in: Tunisia, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and Qatar and, as you heard a moment ago Libya – covering the world-altering events unfolding in the Middle East and North Africa.

• Closer to home: we have reporters on just about every beat imaginable - race and demographics, food safety, education, religion, rural affairs.

• We have entire units dedicated to science. To the arts – to books and music.

• Last year we launched NPR’s first investigative unit. It now has nine full-time staff.

We stay on the story when everyone else moves on.

• NPR’s Howard Berkes is still reporting on the Upper Big Branch mine of West Virginia --- where 29 workers died nearly a year ago.

• NPR’s Debbie Elliot lives near the Gulf of Mexico and continues to follow developments since the BP disaster.

• Danny Zwerdling has stayed with the story of returning soldiers suffering from traumatic brain injury.

We are the opposite of parachute journalism … our reporters have subject-matter expertise built up over years – sometimes decades.  

And member stations have the same, filling the growing void in local reporting.

Over 900 journalists spread across nearly 800 NPR member stations, serving communities large and small. And very small.

In fact, one-third of the stories you hear on NPR are produced by member station reporters. They define the character of public radio.  

• In Nashville, WPLN's Blake Farmer covers Fort Campbell – and the role it has played in the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts.

• In Stillwater, OK, KOSU's Gail Banzet has reported on the resurgence of meth labs in the Midwest; cut-backs in rural police departments, and cattle rustling, which has made a comeback in this tough economy.

• Frank Morris of KCUR in Kansas City is NPR’s go-to guy for agriculture – reporting on land prices, ethanol, and the rivalry between 'family-owned' and 'corporate' farms.  

Later this spring we are launching a project -- called the “Impact of Government” -- that aims to put at least two reporters in every state to examine the role of state government and its real impact on people’s lives.

But stations contribute more than just reporting. They provide critical, life-saving information in times of disaster – on the Gulf Coast, tornado alley, and the fire and landslide zones of California. 

This past January, a severe winter storm blanketed much of northern Arizona with as much as six feet of snow.  NPR member station KUYI on the Hopi reservation lost power for 48 hours. The Flagstaff station – 120 miles away – was knocked off the air. BUT KUYI stayed on the air thanks to two diesel generators that were funded -- with federal dollars. Without it, nearly 100,000 people over four counties would not have had access to vital information on emergency relief efforts, weather, and road conditions.  That’s just one story – there are hundreds more like it.

With journalists on the ground and transmitters that reach far beyond major population centers – they provide the kind of vital service that only free over-the-air broadcasting can deliver.

GROWING AUDIENCE

The result of this work -- is an expanding and deeply engaged audience.

Almost unique in American media, NPR’s audience – the audience for our traditional core service, radio – is growing. And has been growing for the past decade.

We just got our ratings for last Fall – and I’m pleased to report they mark another ALL TIME HIGH in the top 50 markets. That’s now four consecutive quarters of record ratings for NPR. 34 million people listen to an NPR member station every week. 34 million.

In the digital arena, we now reach 17 million people a month – 100 percent growth in the last two years. They come to us on npr.org, iPhone, iPad, Android and mobile. They connect to us on Facebook where we have a larger audience than any other American news outlet. And on Twitter – where we reach over 3 million.  And it’s not just about the numbers, but about the impact. NPR’s social media strategist Andy Carvin has become something of a one-man news platform – serving as a hub for eyewitness reports out of hot spots like Libya and Egypt and anywhere else that news breaks.

We are also growing in TRUST. According to a recent Pew report, NPR is the ONLY national news organization to see a meaningful increase in public trust over the last decade.

NPR’s audience is not a left and right coast phenomenon. We are urban and rural; north and south, red state and blue state. Our listeners are equally distributed throughout every part of America – because of our unique network of local member stations. Rooted in their communities, locally owned, operated, and staffed. These are citizens serving citizens.

Our listeners feel a personal connection to what we do. Not too long ago I was walking around a reception with Morning Edition host Steve Inskeep. Of course people don’t know who he is by looking at him -- we’re radio after all.  But as we mingled and introduced ourselves, I was struck by the reaction people had when they realized who he was. Not merely a media celebrity, but someone with whom they feel a deep personal connection. And always the same joke: “Steve Inskeep! I wake up with you every morning!” He’s a good sport about it – he laughs each time like it’s the first time he’s heard it.  (By the way, Steve just arrived in Cairo this morning. You’ll hear his reports from the region for the next two weeks.)

Our listeners tell us they appreciate the fact that our reporters -- report! (In fact, as you just heard – so do our hosts.) Our listeners tell us they come to us for the craftsmanship, the civility of our programming, the range of opinions, and diversity of stories.

Our reach has its limits of course, and our coverage -- its critics. We are working to expand the diversity of our audience, our staff, sources, and stories -- to do a better job speaking to people across the spectrum of thought, experience, and background.

And we’re paying aggressive attention to our ethical decision-making -- the standards and practices that journalism at our level demands.

In doing so we hope to develop an even larger following in the country – and better serve our mission to inform and enlighten.

REVENUE MODEL/DE-FUNDING

Let me now shift to our funding model. I want to do this not because I think you’re so fascinated with our balance sheet, but because it points to the depth and variety of our public support.

It is a success story – though often misunderstood.

NPR is successful, not because we’re smarter than anyone else -- we aren't. Nor because we have different values -- we don't. And certainly not because we don’t have to worry about the bottom line. Believe me, we do.

We are successful because of the investment that the American public has made in public media over 40 years and – this is critical– the way in which we’ve gradually been able to leverage that investment to build other sources of support.

Those sources include:

• Listeners, whose contributions make up the largest share of station revenue.

• Corporate underwriters, whose support is not simply a transaction; they want to be associated with the credibility and value of the NPR name.  

• We are supported by philanthropic individuals and institutions – who share our vision of an informed society.

• And finally, we rely on continued government funding. Grants to stations from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting represent 10% of the public radio station economy. It is not the largest share of the revenue – but it is a critical cornerstone of public media. [Note: it is about 17% of WMRA's budget.]

This money is particularly important for stations in rural areas. Their government funding is a larger share of revenue – 30%, 40%, 50% or more. These are areas where listeners may have no other access to free over-the-air news and information.

Modest as it is – government funding is critical because it allows taxpayers to leverage a small investment into a very large one. It is seed money. Station managers tell me that 10 percent plays a critical role in generating the other 90 percent that makes their broadcasts possible.

The fact that we have four sources of revenue – listeners, philanthropy, corporate, and government -- helps ensure that public media is not beholden to any one source of revenue. Indeed it is through this diversity of funding that we are able to maintain our journalistic independence.

With the nation facing continuing economic uncertainty, it is both right and necessary to scrutinize all federal spending. But if the public value for the money spent is the prism through which spending decisions are made -- public broadcasting stands strong.

The American people believe in federal funding for public broadcasting. A national survey conducted last month by a bipartisan polling team shows that 69% of Americans oppose the elimination of federal funding for public media. 

CONCLUSION

At a time when our industry is cutting back; when punditry is drowning real news and thoughtful analysis, NPR is moving continuously forward with quality reporting and storytelling delivered with respect for the audience -- what columnist James Wolcott recently called “The Sound of Sanity.”

When original reporting is in increasingly short supply – we continue to build – and not retreat from – a 44-year investment.

As guardians of that public trust, we have an obligation to address the current crisis in journalism and not simply fall victim to the turbulence of these times.

I’d like to acknowledge that NPR is not alone in this mission. Here at the head table with me are my colleagues from public broadcasting:

• Paula Kerger, the President & CEO of PBS which presents programming unique in the television landscape. Programming that expands the minds of children, documentaries that open up new worlds, and cultural content that exposes America to the worlds of music, theater, dance, and art.  

• Patrick Butler, the President & CEO of APTS whose job it is to advocate for public television and why it is more vital now than even 44 years ago. More recently Pat has also taken on the mantle of president of the Public Media Association - which represents both television AND radio stations.

• Pat Harrison - the President & CEO of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The private corporation created by Congress to serve as a steward of the federal government’s investment in public media.

I’d like to thank all of them and my other NPR, public media and journalism colleagues for joining us here today.

In closing…

At NPR, we have charted a vision for the future – one built around high-quality journalism, radio craftsmanship, and storytelling, smart use of social media, a seamless user experience across platforms – one that combines strong local and global reporting. It is a work in progress and always will be – but our growth in audience tells us we’re on the right track.

I’d like to end where we started -- in Libya. Recently on All Things Considered, Host Michele Norris spoke to a entrepreneur named Mohammed in the midst of a major protest in Zawiya, about 25 miles outside Tripoli. Throughout the conversation you could hear gunfire and chaos unfolding.  It was riveting to hear and brought the story home with clarity and immediacy.

When the interview was finished, Mohammed asked what “radio station” he was talking to. Michele told him she was with National Public Radio.

“Oh,” said the man. “NPR! I listen to that station most of the time. I have it on my waking clock!”

I love that phrase: a waking clock. Every day the women and men of NPR get up and go out into the world to bring back news that matters to people like Mohammed and people like you, and me. That is both a privilege and a responsibility. It's sometimes good to have a waking clock to remind us that what we do, matters.

Thank you.

Martha note #2: And thank-you for your support of WMRA. It does take a village to keep the station on the air! That number again 1-800-677-9672 or click here to support on-line.

Thoughts triggered by the NPR/Juan Williams messy divorce . . .

I'd bet the farm you are as aware as I am that NPR terminated Juan Williams' contract one week ago last night. And that you've already read a considerable amount of speculation about the increasingly discordant relationship between Mr. Williams and National Public Radio. And so it seems to me there's no need for me to rehash in this blog who said what, when, and to whom vis-a-vis the events leading up to the NPR-Williams divorce.

If you do need a refresher course on what happened, there was an excellent overview compiled by Tobin Harshaw at the end of last week on the New York Times "Opinionator" column -- along with some 25 pages of comments.

Juan Williams-gate took place when WMRA was a day-and-a-half away from wrapping up our Fall Festival of Fundraising. General Manager Tom DuVal was on the phone with listeners pretty constantly for a couple of days after the news broke, explaining something that it seems as though many modern-day news consumers consider a quaint concept: NPR's code of ethics. Basically, this code states, anyone who does any kind of journalistic work for NPR is enjoined to remain publicly neutral on controversial issues.

I posted notice of the termination on the station's Facebook page, and the comments from WMRA Community members were mixed. To give you an idea of what I mean by mixed, one listener claimed Williams' firing was "insane and stupid political correctness run amok." Another commented that "NPR is one of the last remaining vestiges of actual unbiased journalism. To maintain that unbiased aura, Williams needed to go." We had a good, interesting discussion, I think -- which is why WMRA has a Facebook page in the first place.

I've not been in the office for a couple of days, but still out and about in WMRA Land. Everywhere I've gone people have wanted to know what I, personally, thought of the situation. And I think the best way for me to comment is to say that I, personally, am not going to say what I think in public. Not on the air, not giving a talk, not teaching a class, not on this blog. Neither am I going to comment on this, or any other controversy on my personal Facebook page, because that, too, is a public forum. The only comments I make about controversial issues are made in private..

Why? Because I'm bound by the same code of ethics that Juan Williams was. Airing my personal opinion on any controversial issue would automatically make me less effective at what I do.

And what is that, you ask?

My job, as a person who works and writes in the National Public Radio system, is to listen, question, explore, and challenge. And then to present whatever I discover to you in an organized and understandable way. I'm a conveyor and a convener, not a preacher. I want to inform and engage; not entertain and convert.

I believe firmly in leaving the hard work of forming your opinion entirely up to you.

Please, let me know what you think of journalistic ethics. . .

Remember that NPR story I was working on . . .?

I blogged about doing an NPR story on first novels a couple of weeks ago, giving listener Arnie Kahn credit for nudging me into finding the time to do some on-air reporting again.

Well, the story finally got done, completed around the edges of my days now mostly spent editing, blogging and Facebooking, and it aired yesterday on Weekend Edition Sunday. "Two First Novels, 10 Years in the Making " took a look at former C'ville resident Jessica Francis Kane's first novel, The Report, and Susanna Daniel's first novel, Stiltsville.

Okay, gang, here's some inside scoop on reporting for NPR. Sometimes you get to take a break from saving the world through radio and just have fun. And I had fun with my first novel story.

Colin Harrison

Colin Harrison has long been one of my favorite noire thriller writers. He's published seven novels, all wildly successful critically and sales-wise. His latest book, Risk, began as one of those nifty serialized mystery/thrillers in The New York Times Magazine. He's also an editor with Simon & Schuster, so he was the perfect person to talk about both writing a first novel and editing them.

Writers are my rock stars -- I'm unabashedly delighted when I get to talk with one I enjoy reading. So I was flat-out psyched to talk with Colin Harrison. He could have been an old grump, of course, but no!  Mr. Harrison was a blast of an interview -- funny, generous, and just plain nice.

In the course of our conversation, he gabbled merrily on about his own first completed-but-never-published  novel. He described this opus as "terrible," and rightfully consigned to a life of "moldering away in our basement" in Brooklyn.

I immediately had an idea.

Most writers, in my experience, would rather walk naked down Broadway then let loose their "bad" work.
"I don't suppose there's a chance in hell, you'd let NPR have a page to put up on the website as part of the  build-out for the story?" I asked. (A build-out is web-only material attached to an on-air story.)

There was a long pause. And then a chuckle. "Sure," he said. "Why not."

So my part of the web build-out for the First Novel story tells of my conversation with Colin Harrison about his dreadful first novel. And, if you missed it on the NPR website yesterday, I thought you might get some fun out of reading it today.

The excerpt from Colin Harrison's really bad first completed novel is at the end.

Lessons In Novel Writing (Learned The Hard Way) 

by Martha Woodroof

Colin Harrison, author of seven uncommonly successful novels, has actually written eight. He describes his first, The Prince of the Power of the Air, as "a baggy, sloppy, erratic animal." And he views its universal rejection by everyone as a "fantastic stroke of luck."

"First of all," he says, "my style was very immature. I was still learning the most rudimentary techniques required of novelists. How do you get people in and out of a room? What's a chapter? What's a paragraph? How do you construct dialogue?  What's too much dialogue?"

Harrison has a great laugh, especially for a writer of dark, New York-centric thrillers that stay in your psyche like real experience. And he laughs a lot while talking about The Prince.

"I was trying to work out too many of my own personal questions on paper," he says, "and what happened is that I wrote a novel that was relevant to me and almost no one else."

While writing his first unpublishable novel — you can read an excerpt from it here — Harrison says he had to grapple mightily with the novel's form. That grappling, he says, is ongoing, as it is for any novelist trying to write something new. "I think each novelist, each time out, has to learn how to write a novel all over again. It's a literary form that requires struggle to comprehend and control."

Harrison began writing seriously in his teens. As for that first novel? "It was for me, as it is for every young novelist, an intensely personal, passionate, anxiety-stricken undertaking," he recalls. "It seemed like the impossible thing that I had to try to do. And you know, I was young and foolish and energetic enough to actually do it."

Harrison, who's also an editor for Simon and Schuster, says the first novels he publishes are written by people who know what they're doing. "That sounds obvious, but there is a lot of what I'll call 'accomplished mediocrity' out there," he explains. "Writers working hard, but writing what at the end of the day are not utterly fabulous novels. And my job as an editor is not to find middling novels."

So what makes for first-novel fabulous?  Manuscripts, Harrison says, that "have a kind of quick first step right into the story, and that are themselves all the way. They don't change rhetoric. They don't change direction. There's a clarity to them.  There's an authority to them." He wants to publish books that are "a great reading experience. I'm looking to be entertained. Thrilled. Made aghast. Horrified. Titillated. All that stuff."

Piece of cake, right?

---

Excerpt: 'The Prince of the Power of the Air'

By Colin Harrison

All is still, and the house is very cold. Then she remembers she is not due to work today. "Go home and have Christmas with your papa," Mrs. Lee has said. "A place like this ain't the place for you to be day like Christ-mas." She couldn't have convinced Mrs. Lee otherwise.  She shivers on her way down the stairs. In the kitchen she flicks on the radio.

"Icyroadsthismerrymorning and...cominguponWXLC..." Her father has not eaten breakfast. The back door is open.  The door has been open all night; a thin drift of snow has blown across the kitchen floor.  Jennifer pulls on a coat, her face tight and lips pinched.  Outside, the bright cold hits her face, waking her completely.  So cold, even for December, she thinks.  The bushes and trees are crusted with ice and dusted with snow.  The world has suddenly frozen solid and airless and dead.  Yet the sky is clear, a gold rising sun.  She sees the tractor is not in front of the barn, where it was when she had gone to sleep. Huge skid marks crisscross the shallow snow in a crazy spaghetti tangle; her father has been out during the night. Chunks of frozen mud lay aside the tracks.  Spinning his wheels in the mud, she thinks. Why did she not hear it? The snow muffled the sound, perhaps.  Was she so deeply, so trustfully asleep? The huge barn door is bolted shut, bolted with a sense of finality about it that makes her stand still.  Only the wind makes any sound, scraping along loose boards, up rusty tin rainspouts and across the ragged shingle roof of the barn.

From The Prince of the Power of the Air by Colin Harrison. Excerpted by permission of Colin Harrison.

The story of an NPR story . . .

Arnie Kahn

Thought you might be interested in knowing the way an NPR story develops when it originates at a local station. In this case, I'm the reporter and WMRA is the station.

From the beginning. . .

I know JMU psychology professor Arnie Kahn mostly from the campus gym, UREC, where we both go to work out. He and I occasionally chat about politics or NPR or the latest Civic Soapbox. I always value what Arnie has to say, either in person or as comments on the WMRA blog or Facebook page.

A couple of weeks ago, Arnie asked when I was going to start reporting again.

Hmmmmmm. . . to coin an expression. Arnie had just made me realize how long it had been since I'd done an actual on-air story. Maybe it was time to squeeze one in amidst all the writing, blogging, Facebooking, and editing?

 * * * * *

Jessica Francis Kane

A couple of years ago, Jessica Francis Kane did a fine Civic Soapbox called "Raising the Stakes."  She has since moved to New York City, but we kept in touch and she sent me a galley of her first novel, The Report, which tells the story of the 1943 Bethnal Green Tube Tragedy. During which, 173 Londoners were mysteriously crushed to death as they sought shelter from German bombs. The cause of the disaster has never been satisfactorily explained. And that lack of explanation  is what drives The Report.

Jessica's debut novel was recently shortlisted for the 2010 Flaherty-Dunnan First Novel Prize from the Center for Fiction, and was named a Winter 2010 Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers title. 

Hmmmm, again. This was a novel that deserved some national on-air attention. Yet it's terribly difficult to get a first novel on NPR's air. But how about a story on first novels? Why not put together a story focused on two first novels, one historical (Jessica's) and one more traditionally autobiographical (I chose Stiltsville by Susanna Daniel). HarperCollins Publicity Director Jane Beirn, who knows my taste in novels, had sent me a galley months ago. (The ending of this novel, by the way, made me cry.)

* * * * *

I sent a note pitching my story idea to Laura Bertran, the on-air editor with whom I now work at NPR. My suggestion was that I talk to both novelists about why, out of all the stories running around in their writerly heads, they'd chosen the ones they had for their first novels. I'd then talk to someone who's published a boatload of novels about what they remember of their own first one.. And lastly, I'd talk to someone who teaches at a prominent MFA writing program and get their thoughts on first novels in general.

Laura liked the idea.

The next step in getting the story commissioned was hers. Laura shopped the story around to the various shows -- all iterations of Morning Edition and All Things Considered. Late last week, I got word that Weekend Edition Sunday wanted it. Which meant -- huzzah! -- the story was a go.

Laura and I talked again, and she suggested also talking to a publicist for one of my chosen first novels, to see what she/he does differently to promote a first novel. And about whether the Kindle release is simultaneous or delayed.

* * * * *

Now onto production logistics. National interviews are mostly done through ISDN lines (Integrated Services Digital Network). This is a "phone" line that allows people thousands of miles apart to sound as though they're chatting in the same room. So, in order to do the interviews for this story, I had to find out where my interviewees are physically located, where the closest ISDN line is (most larger local stations, including, thankfully, WMRA have them), and then find a time when the ISDN line is available and the interviewee can come to the studio. All the while keeping track of different time zones -- which I usually manage to royally muddle.

Much e-mailing, phoning, scheduling and rescheduling later, I'm ready to go to work. 


I always prepare for interviews by reading everything I can find about my interviewee. I go into the studio with a list of questions, but as this is a short, pieced-together feature story, not a talk show, I'm only looking for about 45-seconds of really engaged conversation. With this in mind, I ask any of my questions I absolutely must have answers to, and then listen closely for what my interviewee likes talking about so as to let her/him lead the conversation.


After the interview I transcribe the tape, which is a pain in any body part you care to name, but, I've learned through long experience, saves time in the long run and makes for a better use of tape. When all the interviewing is done, I assemble the story. Piecing together my chosen snippets of  interviews with a script that I will later read as part of the piece.

Laura and I then have an edit, where I read my script over the phone and then play my actualities (those bright pieces of my interviews). She'll make suggestions, I'll rework the story; we'll have another edit. It usually takes about three edits to get things absolutely right. And the story is always better for Laura's editing.


Next, I go into WMRA's studio for an ISDN hook-up with NPR. I read my script over and over until whoever's at the other end likes the read. I then send all those pieces of bright conversation up to NPR through my computer. A very picky NPR technical person mixes all the sound together, and viola!, Weekend Edition Sunday has its story. 


My first interview for this story is this morning. I'll be talking to Jane Beirn, the HarperCollins publicist who sent me Stiltsville, who will be in a studio at NPR New York. So, I'd better stop blogging and get ready to start reporting again.


Hope you're happy, Arnie. I certainly am.

The man got skills. . .

 

David Kestenbaum, on high

I came to WMRA just over ten years ago to host All Things Considered and immediately became a David Kestenbaum groupie. When you are the local host of an NPR news show, you listen to every story. In my opinion, all were good, but some were terrific, and for me the terrific ceiling was pierced most consistently by David Kestenbaum.

At the time, he was an NPR science reporter (his Harvard PhD is in physics), but as public radio guru Jay Allison put it  in transom.org (Allison's showcase and workshop for new public radio), David Kestenbaum

somehow got hooked on public radio. He worked for WOSU in Ohio, and "really just did radio and slept.That was about it." He got very good at it, especially at the job of taking difficult subjects and making them interesting. In four minutes and thirty seconds.

Ten years ago when I joined his posse, David Kestenbaum was a science reporter. Science stories are not ones to which I automatically hyper-attend. There I'd be, Ms. ATC local host, listening to the news, waiting for the next announcer break. And whenever one of David's science stories came on, I'd focus in on it with the same laser-sharp attention I usually reserved for political or book pieces. Why? Because the guy was, to my mind, the most delightful, informative writer for public radio that ever spoke into a microphone. Plus, he appeared to be having a good time talking to his interviewees, and they appeared to be having a good time talking to him.

High praise, I know. And yes, I'm given to hyperbole. But I really do think, in this case, I mean exactly what I say. Jay Allison is not, in my opinion, going far enough in saying David makes difficult subjects interesting. In my opinion, through his writing, his delivery, and his story telling style, David makes difficult subjects entertaining, as well.

As I'm also not shy, I fired off an e-mail to Mr. (Dr.) Kestenbaum announcing that I was his groupie and explaining why. I got an immediate response in which he said he'd never had a groupie before and, as I remember it, rather liked the idea.

We began a desultory correspondence. Once, when I was wrestling with how long to spend on one of my own NPR stories, I wrote D.K. and asked him how long he took on his stories. He wrote back to say usually about a week. Unless he was going for art. If he was going for art, then the sky was the limit. Art, he ventured to say, was never done.

Once, when I was up in Washington, I went over to his cubicle and introduced myself. He jumped up and gave me a big hug. As I'd always thought he rather wrote like a hugger, I was not surprised.

About two years ago, David joined NPR's Planet Money team and began reporting (story-telling?) almost exclusively about financial issues. And low and behold, he brought the same quirky clarity to money that he'd brought to science.

Okay, you ask. Why is Martha writing a confessional about her status as David Kestenbaum's groupie?

Well, here's why.

Yesterday, on the way home, I heard a D.K. Planet Money story about Greece's debt which made me want to hug my car radio. Oh the writing! The writing! The quirkiness of setting and and delivery, and the clarity of story-telling! In my opinion that story just needed a dose of public praise.

In case you missed it, here's a transcript of the beginning minute or so of "Greece, Breaking the 'Orbital Pull of Stupid.'"

May 13, 2010 - MICHELE NORRIS, host:
To Greece now, where that country's economic outlook has improved, but it will take a long time before its books are in order. The Greek government is facing a problem a lot of ordinary people can relate to: too much debt and not enough money coming in. So David Kestenbaum with our Planet Money team called up a well-known personal finance guru to get some advice for Greece.

DAVID KESTENBAUM: If you've got credit card debt or teenagers who overspend, there is always one place you can go, one man you know can help you out.

(Soundbite of music)

(Soundbite of TV show, "The Dave Ramsey Show")

Unidentified Man: Live from Financial Peace Plaza, it's "The Dave Ramsey Show," (unintelligible) cash is king.

KESTENBAUM: Dave Ramsey, mega popular radio host, TV host, author of multiple books, balancer of family checkbooks. And starting right here, informal financial adviser for Greece.

Mr. DAVE RAMSEY (Host, Financial Adviser): Hi, how are you?

KESTENBAUM: Hi, good. Thank you so much for doing this. Greece, really, is not so different from the mothers, retirees, small business owners who call into his radio show behind on their bills. I explained to Dave that I have this friend--I'm calling because I have a friend who's in--he's in a lot, a lot, a lot of debt.

Mr. RAMSEY: Okay. How much?

KESTENBAUM: $405 billion.

Mr. RAMSEY: Wow, that's a little bit. So, what's his annual income?

KESTENBAUM: He's a pretty high wage earner, actually, $343 billion.

Mr. RAMSEY: So he owes more than he makes in a year? Wow. So, we're throwing around billions, but, I mean, let's just put that in perspective. This is a guy making $100,000 a year who owes 150,000 in credit card debt

(Soundbite of scream) . .

What followed was a wonderfully accessible presentation of one large aspect of the global financial mess.  It was vintage David Kestenbaum.

You go, guy! Much has changed in my life over the past ten years, but I am still your groupie!

In praise of musical giving . . .

Hallelujah! Ry Cooder has always had a restless musical soul. He just gets that music gives us access to parts of a culture -- indeed, to parts of ourselves and each other -- that are just not reachable or translatable otherwise. And he has the industry clout to get his chameleon-esque compositions recorded and so bring them to the rest of us.

 

Ry Cooder in the '60's

In the 60s Ry Cooder was, among a lot of other things, a session musician with the Stones. In the 70s, he began his signature mining of forgotten or neglected musical genres -- black gospel, calypso, white country. His 1979 album Bop Till You Drop was the first digitally recorded pop album, which should be of great interest to any sound geeks reading this.

During the 1980s, Ry Cooder went to the movies. He began in 1984 by scoring the soundtrack for Paris, Texas.  Several movies later, he dubbed all the slide guitar for the 1986 movie, Crossroads, a take on the life of Delta blues man, Robert Johnson, whom Eric Clapton has called  "the most important blues singer that ever lived." And one who may, or may not, have colluded with the Devil to become that way.

The 1990s took Ry Cooder to World Music. His recordings during that decade mixed traditional American musical genres with contemporary African and Indian sounds. In the late 90s he produced  Buena Vista Social Club, and we were invited to acquaint ourselves with the music of Compay Segundo, Rubén González, and Ibrahim Ferrer.

Ry Cooder's home (if he's had time to establish one) must be littered with Grammys.

So, you say, this is all very interesting, why am I blogging about Ry Cooder for WMRA? Because his latest collaborative recording, done with the Chieftans, is currently listenable for free on NPR as one of their First Listen offerings. 

 

Ry Cooder (left) with Paddy Maloney of The Chieftans

The album is called San Patricio. It's being released around St. Patrick's Day for a reason. It (as lifted from the NPR interview) . . .

. . . commemorates a little-known connection between Mexicans and the Irish. During the Mexican-American War of the 1840s, a group of disaffected Irish-American conscripts led by Capt. John Riley crossed the border to fight with the Mexicans. Riley put together a battalion named the "San Patricio," deserted the U.S. Army and joined the Mexicans to fight on what he saw as the side of justice.

Heaven forbid, I write about music you can listen to for free. All I'll say is I listened yesterday, and was filled with gratitude, yet again, that our world contains Ry Cooder's restless musical soul.

And that NPR offers us the great musical gift of First Listens.

Snowpocalypse at NPR . . .

 

Vivian Schiller at work (Photograph by Julian Dufort for Fastcompany.com)

NOTE: This e-mail from NPR's President and CEO, Vivian Schiller, went around to stations yesterday. Thought you might enjoy a festive report from the frozen NPR HQ!

Greetings from the NPR igloo --

It’s been a week of wild weather in DC, where we are now shoveling out from major snowstorm #2. While the news reports are full of cancellations and closings, NPR hasn’t missed a beat – despite reduced, emergency levels of staffing.

To keep our operations going and the programs on the air, NPR has been working full time on snow planning and snow operations since last Thursday. Led by Director of Engineering Shawn Fox and Director of Operations Charlie Mayer, our logistics group (a.k.a. the NPR Snow Patrol) has worked with staff to keep the behind-the-scenes work running smoothly despite the weather -- and with extraordinary good cheer.

More than a hundred core “essential” programming and operational staff have spent the night at local hotels when it was impossible for them to return home between shifts.

We rented three oversized SUVs for the week to provide emergency transportation to and from work for staff marooned without public transportation or a snow-worthy vehicle. They’ve been running almost non-stop, crammed with hosts, reporters, managers, technicians and executives all together. I hear the seat-warmers have been a hit.

The NPR can-do spirit is alive and well. Employees from across the organization have volunteered to take turns driving the transport vehicles. (See photo of News SVP Ellen Weiss turned chauffeur, below.) Some, including Labor Relations Director Paula Olson, drove their own 4X4s. By the way, Paula also managed to deliver hundreds of fresh baked cookies to the staff. Charlie Mayer even put his chainsaw skills to work to free weekend All Things Considered host Guy Raz’s front door from a fallen tree when he and Shawn Fox came to pick Guy up for work last Saturday. (Photos below.)

Fortunately the fabulous staff members of the small cafeteria that operates on our 7th floor agreed to brave the conditions and stay open through the weekend and both storms to provide NPR-paid hot meals to hungry staff members. NPR’s sidewalk/driveway snow removal operation sets the standard in our DC neighborhood thanks to Dave Tenney and our Facilities division.

Not all the action is at HQ. Hundreds of employees have been productively working from their snowed in homes. From across the region, staff members have joined conference calls, answered emails, and moved forward on projects in what has been the largest work-from-home operation we’ve ever attempted. Just two examples, Support Technician Michael Cullen helped to set up our crew at the Vancouver Olympics and is able to adjust our IP-based equipment there over the Internet from home. Support Technician Chris Nelson is working on audio clips for NPR programs and newscasts using his laptop at home.

As for me, I finally made it into the office. But until today I was snow-trapped at home waiting for the snowplows to visit our remote cul-de-sac. Luckily the Internet and phones are working so it was sort of like being in the office…but with fuzzy slippers. Here’s a link to a time-lapse of last weekends snow fall outside my back window. Let’s hope spring comes early this year. After this winter, I’m pretty sure we’ll need it.

-Vivian

Some of our DC crew …

 News SVP Ellen Weiss volunteers to drive an NPR shuttle….

The tree in front of Guy Raz’s house….