Narrative nonfiction

Vivid storytelling – a.k.a. as narrative writing and creative nonfiction – was once the norm. Mark Twain was a newspaperman, as well as a novelist. The “yellow papers” – led by Joseph Pulitzer's New York World and William Randolph Hearst's New York Journal – teemed with color (much of it tawdry tabloidism, but color nonetheless). The practice continued until WWII, when Ernie Pyle's compassionate columns resembled “letters home”.

Boston University Professor Mark Kramer observed in Literary Journalism: “James Agee, Ernest Hemingway, A. J. Liebling, Joseph Mitchell, Lillian Ross, and John Steinbeck tried out narrative essay forms,” he wrote. “Norman Mailer, Truman Capote, Tom Wolfe, and Joan Didion followed, and somewhere in there, the genre came into its own – that is, its writers began to identify themselves as part of a movement, and the movement began to take on conventions and to attract writers.”

Authors like Hunter Thompson and John McPhee applied these techniques – and won great renown. But newspapers – on the whole – fostered a drier, more factual style. “Storytelling went out the window,” complained Jack Hart, managing editor of The Oregonian. “We had only the inverted pyramid and the standard news feature: quote, transition, quote, transition, quote, transition, kicker ... you're outta there!”

Then New Journalism blazed and helped banish “the pale beige tone of the inverted pyramid,” Hart insisted. Best of all, readers connect more with this personable style. They comprehend complex topics easier, retain information and even buy more papers, according to Northwestern University's Readership Institute.

So what is this miracle fix, exactly? Experts bicker on the finer points, but George nutshelled it well: “Essentially, a good story is like a good work of fiction, with a beginning, a middle and an end, characters and conflict, dialogue, telling details, a narrative arc. The full range of literary techniques should be employed.” Kramer confirms this: "scene setting, dialogue, and sensory description can improve every article." Read more insights from top writers in Chip Scanlon's coverage of the the sixth annual Nieman Conference on Narrative Journalism.

Events unfold around a protagonist in narrative writing. Jon Franklin, author of the classic Writing for Story, declared that “a story consists of a sequence of actions that occur when a sympathetic character encounters a complicating situation that he confronts and solves.”

Hart broke down the plot arc thus:

1. Exposition: introduce the protagonist, the person who makes things happen (if you're stuck, start with the protagonist's name and a transitive verb).
2. Inciting incident: something knocks the protagonist off the status quo. “Think of a movie ... a Hollywood movie, not a Danish one,” he joked.
3. Rising action: the protagonist struggles with confrontations.
4. Point of insight. The solution or outcome clarifies.
5. Climax: the confrontation resolves.
6. Denouement: Wrap it up.

Hart considers the “point of insight” most valuable. “Here's what people are looking for in stories. They want to learn from the experiences of others how to be a more successful human being. Find the universal theme.”

Narrative writing is an advanced technique. Experiment, but don't panic if this new medium takes time to learn. Mimicry really is the best tool. Read stories – and watch films –with these techniques in mind. Then perhaps try a brief piece in the format. As the great writing coach Hart said, “narrative articles needn't be 100-inch goat-chokers”. The short length forces your concentration onto the plot – picking, choosing and crystallizing the essential elements – rather than a glut of expression.

Lisa Pollack, an editor for NPR's This American Life, discusses techniques useful to both print and broadcast journalism. “You need specific characters, events and reactions to them. Basically, you 'cast' the story: find the situation first, then a compelling subject.

“Unfold the story. Set the scenario and introduce suspense and tension. If nothing's at stake, nothing drives the story – and reader – forward. A tale with no sympathetic characters, where everything works out as expected, has no juice in it.

“By sympathetic, I don't mean the character did no wrong. Flaws make people sympathetic, make readers care and want to know what happens to them.”

Once the plot arc is in place, she recommends: “Step outside the story and examine its meaning. Understand what attracts you to the story.”

Michelle Hiskey, a reporter for The Atlanta Journal Constitution, takes this credo a step further. She urges: “Attach a ONE WORD theme to your story – i.e. greed, monopoly, trust, hunger, etc. – to keep you focused.”

Poynter's Writing Coach Chip Scanlan agrees: “Every story is about something. The best stories have a focus and a point. Try asking these questions: What's the news? What's the story? What information surprised me the most? What will surprise my reader or viewer? What one thing does my reader need to know?”

The “something” – the engine of a story – shouldn't merely be “Borneo” or “Boston”. Push deeper into the texture of the experience. Try imagining the place is a person. What would he or she say? Want? How was this character revealed? Hidden? And who best gives voice to all this?

For a blog, that answer often may be “myself,” but stop and consider other alternatives. Is there a person – or a concept – that could frame the tale far better? Remember that while we label ourselves writers, we also are reporters.