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book review
The sourcer’s apprentice
- The Journalist’s Handbook
Kim Fletcher
- Macmillan
- £14.99
It’s perhaps deliberate that Kim Fletcher named his journalism
handbook to give the impression that only one person is meant to
read it. To some degree the journalist is a solitary figure, and
as Fletcher’s no-nonsense advisory style to the aspiring hack
intimates, it’s you against the world. So get used to it.
Such
firm, but fair, advice could only come from the recently let go
editorial director of the Telegraph group and well-travelled Fleet
Street high flyer, who has worked for both the The Sunday Times
and Sunday Telegraph and who has edited The Independent on Sunday.
It’s a fact that Fletcher is an old boy from journalism’s
old school, but that hasn’t stopped him from recognising the
attributes of the new. So if you’ve ever questioned whether
journalism degrees are worth the paper they’re printed on,
hop straight to page 35 for the answer. Old sweats, he says, sneer
at these. It’s good to see this old sweat doesn’t see
himself as one. Although there’s no escaping such courses
these days, he adds, the skills they teach young journalists mean
that when they do enter the profession, they should be equipped
to contribute straight away.
Now that you’re fairly sure that your journalism qualification
is worthy of today’s media, you’d better prove there’s
some value to the few grand you invested in your education. But
in order to contribute, the wannabe hack needs a way of ‘getting
in’. Thankfully, this is explained in Chapter 3 of the same
name. However, ‘Getting On’ in journalism (Chapter 4),
is something else entirely, as Fletcher is only too quick to point
out. Not bothering to find out if the unisex name, Kim, belongs
to a man or woman, for instance, will result in basketball practice
with your letter and the waste paper basket.
It’s this kind of solid advice that the author does best.
What he doesn’t do so well are his Dos and Don’ts of
journalism. These rough diamonds, plucked from editors and journalists
from titles like Observer to Glamour magazine, could have shone
more brightly if only they had been compacted into a comprehensive
list. Some of the points, for example, about being precious about
one’s copy before it goes to the sub-editors, are repeated.
It’s a fact that ironically begs subbing.
There are similar gripes to be had with the seemingly indiscriminately
placed sections, ‘My Big Break’ and ‘Dream On’.
Not only do they float like non-contextualised voxpops, but they
are mostly composed of the same sources who dished out the Dos and
Don’ts. These industry tales are entertaining asides, certainly,
but it seems they were included for reasons known only to the author.
Similarly, the chapter on practical writing could have been more
practical; using subsections to aid assimilation of the great tips
contained within would have no doubt helped.
But enough advice for Fletcher. He does have plenty of his own,
including some neat methods of tightening up your news language.
Slack, dishonest and unenergetic journalists, he counsels, will
invariably be caught out by the language they choose. Phrases such
as ‘up to’, ‘set to’, ‘it was claimed
last night’ and words like ‘plans’ may be best
laid, but they’re laid on shaky journalistic foundations –
and are best avoided.
Given such advice in news writing, you’d be forgiven for
thinking The Journalist’s Handbook was written only with young
regional newspaper talent in mind. Not so: the freelancer, which
essentially everyone is to start with, gets an informational leg-up
too. A journalist is an everyman. You’re a salesman making
a pitch. And if you don’t pitch right – in that you
write political tomes rather than brisk comment pieces, or you write
about a rock star falling into a vat of formaldehyde when there
was a Rolling Stones review in the paper yesterday – the editor
will strike you out.
However, if you’re overflowing with ideas during journalism’s
low season parched August, intimates Fletcher, you’ll be off
for after-work drinks with the Ed. This is something to take note
of, then transcribe and keep tucked away. You’ll be glad you
did when an angry mother, whose sword-like slap is mightier than
your pen, takes issue with your piece about her alleged cathouse
activities (paraphrasing).
The second half of the guide moves away from the target reader’s
immediate concerns with getting in and getting paid, to offer advice
on the crucial issue of law. Set up predictably against the backdrop
of the David Kelly affair, ethics and real-life hypotheticals are
given sound treatment. In addition, the virtues of online versus
print journalism and the evolution of broadsheets into ‘compacts’
form welcome, up-to-speed mini-debates – each of which are
held together by the NCTJ Chairman’s colourful anecdotes and
insider knowledge.
Indeed, privileged information is the selling point of The Journalist’s
Handbook. In a way, it’s a shame there isn’t more of
it. But you’re a journalist. You’re meant to source
information. It’s not a word (yet), but you’re a sourcer.
By reading Fletcher’s immensely readable, authoritative, informative
and witty guide, you’ve become the sourcer’s apprentice.
The Journalist’s Handbook is by no means exhaustive. But
it’s a start, and this is exactly what a new journalist in
the industry needs. As Fletcher says, the most encouraging thing
about the newspaper business is that “there are more writers
than you think it can possibly want. But there is always room for
another good one.”
That’s good advice.
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