WHEN a reporter starts working in a new town they normally research and get in touch with local organisations and politicians to get themselves known and make a few contacts.
It was while I was doing this a few months ago that I stumbled across the website of Keith Kondakor of Nuneaton Friends of the Earth.
We had a quick chat and just as we were saying our goodbyes he asked me if I knew anything about plans for a hazardous waste materials plant at Judkins. I asked him to send me whatever information he had and said I'd look into it.
Little did I realise what a juggernaut this story would later become. The response to our Dump It! campaign has been incredible, attracting the support of three MPs, numerous borough and county councillors and, most importantly, thousands of people living in the town.
All of us here at the Trib would like to thank the people of Nuneaton, Bedworth and North Warwickshire for sending in their pledges and bombarding us with your letters about this deeply unpopular plant.
The passion and pride you have for this region makes me glad I picked up the phone all those weeks ago.
Like any job, being a reporter has its frustrations. One of the biggest is meeting people who have a go at us about not covering an issue in the area.
A lot of the time it's something we can't do a story on for obvious reasons ("My neighbour keeps putting his rubbish in my bin! I want you to DESTROY him by telling the WORLD what an utter, remorseless **** he is") but sometimes a valuable story will pass us by because no one dropped us a line.
We monitor the area's events thoroughly but still need residents to get in touch with us if something important is happening in the borough.
I've had phone calls from people blasting me for not reporting on an event or issue and when I ask them why they didn't call me up earlier they say: "I thought you'd know about it."
There's plenty we do know, but we can't know absolutely everything, so please do call us and let us know what's going on.
At the Tribune, our door - and phone line - are always open.
~ Sam Webb
The Tribune Office
...hard at work as always
Friday, 11 July 2008
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
It's time to suck up to a new boss
AFTER months of waiting, speculating and gossiping, the Tribune finally has a new editor - hurrah!
Surprisingly, it's not John "Scoop" Harris, who has been making some strong claims for the hotseat over the last few weeks.
These have consisted of only being five minutes late for work every day instead of 10, colour co-ordinating his ties, and taking long "lunch meetings".
He also promised to advocate new working hours which would see us start at 10am and finish by 3pm.
Alas, we don't work to set shifts, so he was always on to a loser.
Our working practices are far more ad hoc. Some days we might start at 7.30am and work right through to 6.30pm.
Other days we might start at 8.30am.
Then of course there's the night meetings and other evening jobs to factor in, plus sport commitments.
For instance, last Thursday I started at 8.30am, went home at 5pm, then headed off to the elections at 9pm.
I was there until 1.30am when it was back home to input all the results so they could be uploaded to our website ready for when everyone else was getting up.
A few hours sleep later and I was back in work to write up all the interviews from the night and start work on the next week's paper.
Working like this means on Thursdays and Fridays, our least busiest days of the week, we have less people around because we're all catching up on our time owing.
We do have an unusual way of letting everyone know it's time to go home, though.
Instead of the message going up that sufficient work has been done for the day, Mitch Irving, office stalwart, gets instructed to "blow the whistle".
This involves him sounding a referee's whistle as if it is full-time at a football match.
A couple of Christmasses ago, Mitch's secret Santa bought him an old-fashioned bike horn - one of those ones with the rubber ball on the end that you squeeze - so he likes to have a good honk on that intermittently as well.
Yes, we're a little bit strange, but we're creative people so we can get away with it.
Hopefully, new editor Simon Holden won't be changing the going home hooter - although those 10am to 3pm days sound interesting...
~ Emma Ray
Surprisingly, it's not John "Scoop" Harris, who has been making some strong claims for the hotseat over the last few weeks.
These have consisted of only being five minutes late for work every day instead of 10, colour co-ordinating his ties, and taking long "lunch meetings".
He also promised to advocate new working hours which would see us start at 10am and finish by 3pm.
Alas, we don't work to set shifts, so he was always on to a loser.
Our working practices are far more ad hoc. Some days we might start at 7.30am and work right through to 6.30pm.
Other days we might start at 8.30am.
Then of course there's the night meetings and other evening jobs to factor in, plus sport commitments.
For instance, last Thursday I started at 8.30am, went home at 5pm, then headed off to the elections at 9pm.
I was there until 1.30am when it was back home to input all the results so they could be uploaded to our website ready for when everyone else was getting up.
A few hours sleep later and I was back in work to write up all the interviews from the night and start work on the next week's paper.
Working like this means on Thursdays and Fridays, our least busiest days of the week, we have less people around because we're all catching up on our time owing.
We do have an unusual way of letting everyone know it's time to go home, though.
Instead of the message going up that sufficient work has been done for the day, Mitch Irving, office stalwart, gets instructed to "blow the whistle".
This involves him sounding a referee's whistle as if it is full-time at a football match.
A couple of Christmasses ago, Mitch's secret Santa bought him an old-fashioned bike horn - one of those ones with the rubber ball on the end that you squeeze - so he likes to have a good honk on that intermittently as well.
Yes, we're a little bit strange, but we're creative people so we can get away with it.
Hopefully, new editor Simon Holden won't be changing the going home hooter - although those 10am to 3pm days sound interesting...
~ Emma Ray
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Creatures of habit
JOURNALISTS are creatures of habit. We like our coffee just so, we only use certain types of pens, and we've got a mental note of the best people to ring when news stories are thin on the ground.
Our habitual nature doesn't always extend to working practices, though.
Like any other office, we have the neat freaks and slovenly slobs.
In the immaculate corner is Sam Dimmer, who has the tidiest desk I think I've ever seen.
At the opposite end of the scale, John Harris is the poster boy for chaotic mess.
You'd think that this discrepancy might have something to do with the relative amounts of work done by said individuals.
Not so. Young Sam is a prolific writer with no less than 10 stories on the go at any one time. John...well, John's on sport.
I fall between two stools. My desk fluctuates between regimented tidiness and complete anarchy.
I let it get to a certain point of unruliness and then have a mass tidy-up. This generally has to happen every week.
It's really hard to keep track of everything we have on the go at any one time.
Take the process of writing of story. I may get a tip-off from a member of the public.
I'll take notes on their views, then have to investigate the issue. That could entail internet research, phone calls, consulting our archives.
It's pretty inevitable there'll be another side of the story, and I'll then have to try and get that.
If it looks like that could take a while, I might start writing the story with what I've got, then leave it waiting for a comment from someone else.
And that's just one story - there'll be many more like that in a day, so at any one time there'll be lots of news sitting around on my desk or computer in various states of completion.
Keeping track of everything means a little bit of organised chaos.
But there are times when I'm ultra organised. One of those will be tonight, when I go along to cover Nuneaton and Bedworth Borough Council's elections.
I will have all the wards and the candidates typed out so that I can just write in the results - it's crucial to make sure everything's taken down properly, and there's no point fiddling about with a notepad when the numbers start geting read out.
~ Emma Ray
Our habitual nature doesn't always extend to working practices, though.
Like any other office, we have the neat freaks and slovenly slobs.
In the immaculate corner is Sam Dimmer, who has the tidiest desk I think I've ever seen.
At the opposite end of the scale, John Harris is the poster boy for chaotic mess.
You'd think that this discrepancy might have something to do with the relative amounts of work done by said individuals.
Not so. Young Sam is a prolific writer with no less than 10 stories on the go at any one time. John...well, John's on sport.
I fall between two stools. My desk fluctuates between regimented tidiness and complete anarchy.
I let it get to a certain point of unruliness and then have a mass tidy-up. This generally has to happen every week.
It's really hard to keep track of everything we have on the go at any one time.
Take the process of writing of story. I may get a tip-off from a member of the public.
I'll take notes on their views, then have to investigate the issue. That could entail internet research, phone calls, consulting our archives.
It's pretty inevitable there'll be another side of the story, and I'll then have to try and get that.
If it looks like that could take a while, I might start writing the story with what I've got, then leave it waiting for a comment from someone else.
And that's just one story - there'll be many more like that in a day, so at any one time there'll be lots of news sitting around on my desk or computer in various states of completion.
Keeping track of everything means a little bit of organised chaos.
But there are times when I'm ultra organised. One of those will be tonight, when I go along to cover Nuneaton and Bedworth Borough Council's elections.
I will have all the wards and the candidates typed out so that I can just write in the results - it's crucial to make sure everything's taken down properly, and there's no point fiddling about with a notepad when the numbers start geting read out.
~ Emma Ray
Wednesday, 16 April 2008
Butting heads with the press office, by Sam Webb
IN MANY professions there exist friendly and not-so-friendly rivalries - cabbies often butt heads with bus drivers, builders may groan when the building inspectors turn up and I've heard landlords of traditional pubs sometimes don't think kindly of 'hospitality managers' at national chains.
Journalism is no different. Our bete noir, our nemesis, and the Bluto to our Popeye is the press officer (anyone who thought I was going to say 'everyone else', see me after class).
We roll our eyes when we get press releases that are jargon-filled, poorly-written or lacking vital information, and we gnash our teeth when a PR man takes his sweet time when we ask for a comment or denies an interview with a VIP at the organisation at the centre of a story.
Angered by a lack of co-operation from a press officer, reporters may go out of their way to make their lives difficult, often by blowing stories involving their clients out of proportion (needless to say, this doesn't happen at the highly-professional Tribune!)
This attitude can spark a vicious circle as some press officers come to regard journos as untrustworthy muckrakers who twist the facts and stitch them up - hence the lack of co-operation.
Having done both jobs, I have seen that regarding the other side as 'the enemy' is counter-productive and, frankly, immature. There are many press officers I have a very good relationship with, even when dealing with a contentious issue, and they can even be a good source for stories when deadline looms.
Likewise, as a PR I was on good terms with a number of journalists, some of whom asked very difficult questions of my clients.
Reporters cannot blame a press officer for attempting to protect the reputation of their client - it is their job - and PRs cannot be angry when a journo attempts to bring their client to task when it is in the public interest - because that is theirs.
There will always be rivalry. Sometimes a newsman will have to hit a story with both barrels when faced with an unreasonable wall of silence and sometimes a PR will have to close ranks when hit with unfair accusations from a bullish reporter.
I still occasionally roll my eyes heavenward when faced with an obstructive press officer and my sympathy will always lie with the press, but I believe both sides can benefit from a little less hostility.
As Ralph Charell once said: "It is through co-operation, rather than conflict, that your greatest successes will be derived."
~ Sam Webb
Journalism is no different. Our bete noir, our nemesis, and the Bluto to our Popeye is the press officer (anyone who thought I was going to say 'everyone else', see me after class).
We roll our eyes when we get press releases that are jargon-filled, poorly-written or lacking vital information, and we gnash our teeth when a PR man takes his sweet time when we ask for a comment or denies an interview with a VIP at the organisation at the centre of a story.
Angered by a lack of co-operation from a press officer, reporters may go out of their way to make their lives difficult, often by blowing stories involving their clients out of proportion (needless to say, this doesn't happen at the highly-professional Tribune!)
This attitude can spark a vicious circle as some press officers come to regard journos as untrustworthy muckrakers who twist the facts and stitch them up - hence the lack of co-operation.
Having done both jobs, I have seen that regarding the other side as 'the enemy' is counter-productive and, frankly, immature. There are many press officers I have a very good relationship with, even when dealing with a contentious issue, and they can even be a good source for stories when deadline looms.
Likewise, as a PR I was on good terms with a number of journalists, some of whom asked very difficult questions of my clients.
Reporters cannot blame a press officer for attempting to protect the reputation of their client - it is their job - and PRs cannot be angry when a journo attempts to bring their client to task when it is in the public interest - because that is theirs.
There will always be rivalry. Sometimes a newsman will have to hit a story with both barrels when faced with an unreasonable wall of silence and sometimes a PR will have to close ranks when hit with unfair accusations from a bullish reporter.
I still occasionally roll my eyes heavenward when faced with an obstructive press officer and my sympathy will always lie with the press, but I believe both sides can benefit from a little less hostility.
As Ralph Charell once said: "It is through co-operation, rather than conflict, that your greatest successes will be derived."
~ Sam Webb
Tuesday, 15 April 2008
The finer points of grammar
JOURNALISTS have to face many obstacles in their quest to become a good reporter.
Learning how to conduct incisive interviews, mastering 100wpm shorthand, nurturing the ability to drink beer.
But for a whole generation of scribes, one of the most difficult has to be learning correct grammar.
Unlike esteemed elderly - sorry, older - journalists like Steve Evans at the Nuneaton Telegraph and our grumpy yet eloquent sub editors, some of us were never trained in the finer points of split infinitives and past progressive tense.
In fact, most of us have trouble with a simple apostrophe.
I can clearly remember when I learnt how to use those tricky hovering commas correctly and it sure as hell wasn't at school.
The generation of reporters coming up behind me isn't much better, which shows how education standards have stalled.
Having said that there are a couple of people in the office who have no trouble - John "Scoop" Harris on the Bedworth Echo is meticulous when it comes to grammar, while southern softie Ed Stilliard is pretty good as well.
One comes from Beduth, the other from Sandhurst, so it's clearly nothing to do with wealth or where you live in the country.
Grammar and spelling are things we have to master.
As much as getting the story in the first place is important, you also have to be able to package it in the right way.
That means writing clear, succinct, "clean" copy, free of the kind of mistakes there's no excuse for.
If a reader can't understand your story, they'll just stop reading, and if they spot a grammatical or spelling error, they'll lose their faith in you.
And when your reputation as an honest reporter is one of your biggest assets, you can see how important the humble apostrophe can be.
By the way, anyone pointing out you shouldn't start sentences with "and" or "but" take note - there's still a thing called journalistic licence!
Learning how to conduct incisive interviews, mastering 100wpm shorthand, nurturing the ability to drink beer.
But for a whole generation of scribes, one of the most difficult has to be learning correct grammar.
Unlike esteemed elderly - sorry, older - journalists like Steve Evans at the Nuneaton Telegraph and our grumpy yet eloquent sub editors, some of us were never trained in the finer points of split infinitives and past progressive tense.
In fact, most of us have trouble with a simple apostrophe.
I can clearly remember when I learnt how to use those tricky hovering commas correctly and it sure as hell wasn't at school.
The generation of reporters coming up behind me isn't much better, which shows how education standards have stalled.
Having said that there are a couple of people in the office who have no trouble - John "Scoop" Harris on the Bedworth Echo is meticulous when it comes to grammar, while southern softie Ed Stilliard is pretty good as well.
One comes from Beduth, the other from Sandhurst, so it's clearly nothing to do with wealth or where you live in the country.
Grammar and spelling are things we have to master.
As much as getting the story in the first place is important, you also have to be able to package it in the right way.
That means writing clear, succinct, "clean" copy, free of the kind of mistakes there's no excuse for.
If a reader can't understand your story, they'll just stop reading, and if they spot a grammatical or spelling error, they'll lose their faith in you.
And when your reputation as an honest reporter is one of your biggest assets, you can see how important the humble apostrophe can be.
By the way, anyone pointing out you shouldn't start sentences with "and" or "but" take note - there's still a thing called journalistic licence!
Thursday, 3 April 2008
Cubby learns the trade
MY CAREER as a cub reporter hasn't always gone as smoothly as I planned.
Despite all the fantastic advice from more established reporters - and by that I mean everyone in the office - and studying journalism at the University of Sheffield, it still seems that I can bungle the simplest of jobs.
You might not believe it but remembering to ask everyone you ever speak to their name, age and address is quite a task.
Well, you might believe it now you know I'm a student but I swear I am trying hard.
I've wanted to be a reporter, despite my better judgement and the pay situation, for as long as I can bear to think back.
My mum always used to tell me that I was good at business studies and I could get a really good job in the city, lots of money there.
But I decided that, although I would love not to have to worry about money, I would probably shoot myself in the head after a day in the world of business.
Saying that, journalism is not the least stressful of jobs.
There are deadlines, people who clearly don't want to give you the time of day and then, of course, there IS the time of day when you're trying to juggle 15 stories that just refuse to come together.
And then there's that sinking feeling you get as a cubby - which, by the way, has become my office nickname - when people are clearly running around you trying to clear up whatever mess you might have made this time.
My hat is definitely off to the amazing staff here who put so much time into teaching youngsters like me the tricks of the trade despite having work coming out of their ears.
But, after all that moaning, I wouldn't pick any other job in the world.
What other job lets you in on the secrets the rest of the world are waiting to hear?
Despite all the fantastic advice from more established reporters - and by that I mean everyone in the office - and studying journalism at the University of Sheffield, it still seems that I can bungle the simplest of jobs.
You might not believe it but remembering to ask everyone you ever speak to their name, age and address is quite a task.
Well, you might believe it now you know I'm a student but I swear I am trying hard.
I've wanted to be a reporter, despite my better judgement and the pay situation, for as long as I can bear to think back.
My mum always used to tell me that I was good at business studies and I could get a really good job in the city, lots of money there.
But I decided that, although I would love not to have to worry about money, I would probably shoot myself in the head after a day in the world of business.
Saying that, journalism is not the least stressful of jobs.
There are deadlines, people who clearly don't want to give you the time of day and then, of course, there IS the time of day when you're trying to juggle 15 stories that just refuse to come together.
And then there's that sinking feeling you get as a cubby - which, by the way, has become my office nickname - when people are clearly running around you trying to clear up whatever mess you might have made this time.
My hat is definitely off to the amazing staff here who put so much time into teaching youngsters like me the tricks of the trade despite having work coming out of their ears.
But, after all that moaning, I wouldn't pick any other job in the world.
What other job lets you in on the secrets the rest of the world are waiting to hear?
Thursday, 27 March 2008
The People's Tribune
IT'S always nice to have time off, and this Easter we gladly grabbed the chance to have Good Friday and Bank Holiday Monday away from the newsroom.
The down side is that none of our papers get any smaller. In fact, this week's Tribune is one of the biggest in a while - a bumper 144 pages.
So while we've had two days off, we don't have two days less work to do.
The situation was compounded on Tuesday when we came in to find computers dying to the left us, and computers dying to the right of us.
We got it sorted out eventually, but it put us behind even more.
Still, it's an exciting time to be a part of Nuneaton's number one newspaper.
We've been working on our blog to give some added value, and I touched on this in last week's dispatches.
There's now a message board, mailing list, polls, guestbook and, best of all, a community calendar.
Anyone can add information to this, so if you've got anything from a fete to a gig to let people know about, it's the place to go.
We're trying to be as interactive as possible to make sure we're giving you the service you want and deserve.
On the paper front, we've got new business and entertainments sections, and our news service is also expanding.
This paper, in various formats, has been around since 1895. In fact, when it was first launched, it was called The People's Tribune, which shows you what our ethos is.
You don't survive in the newspaper industry for more than 100 years if you can't cut it.
We've been doing that since the 19th century and our paper has always been pushed forward by innovation and a commitment to balance and accuracy.
Over that time we've become part of the fabric of the town. If you need to know something, you turn to the Trib.
We hope you like the new things we've got in store - either way, let us know. We'd love to hear from you.
The down side is that none of our papers get any smaller. In fact, this week's Tribune is one of the biggest in a while - a bumper 144 pages.
So while we've had two days off, we don't have two days less work to do.
The situation was compounded on Tuesday when we came in to find computers dying to the left us, and computers dying to the right of us.
We got it sorted out eventually, but it put us behind even more.
Still, it's an exciting time to be a part of Nuneaton's number one newspaper.
We've been working on our blog to give some added value, and I touched on this in last week's dispatches.
There's now a message board, mailing list, polls, guestbook and, best of all, a community calendar.
Anyone can add information to this, so if you've got anything from a fete to a gig to let people know about, it's the place to go.
We're trying to be as interactive as possible to make sure we're giving you the service you want and deserve.
On the paper front, we've got new business and entertainments sections, and our news service is also expanding.
This paper, in various formats, has been around since 1895. In fact, when it was first launched, it was called The People's Tribune, which shows you what our ethos is.
You don't survive in the newspaper industry for more than 100 years if you can't cut it.
We've been doing that since the 19th century and our paper has always been pushed forward by innovation and a commitment to balance and accuracy.
Over that time we've become part of the fabric of the town. If you need to know something, you turn to the Trib.
We hope you like the new things we've got in store - either way, let us know. We'd love to hear from you.
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Idle hands
IT'S been a strange old week at Tribune Towers. For some reason I've actually found I've got a bit of spare time on my hands.
Time to do things like, gasp, forward plan. Work on projects like this blog and how to best utilise the space.
This is a very rare occurrence - normally I'm too busy get the paper out to think beyond the next deadline.
I don't know how I managed it, but on Tuesday afternoon - one of the busiest days of the week - I spent a good couple of hours thinking about new ways to engage you, our readers.
One of the main problems we have as a group - and in that I'm talking about the Tribune, the Bedworth Echo and The Hinckley Times - is our online presence.
We have so many ideas about digital media and the way forward, but we don't necessarily have the facilities to put them into action.
Hopefully that will soon change. Trinity Mirror, the newspaper group to which we belong, is rolling out a new system of websites.
They're all singing, all dancing, and the best thing is they are very community orientated.
But we're pretty ambitious around here, not to mention impatient. Yes, stop shouting all those who know me - I am indeed the most impatient of the lot.
We've led the way with our blogs and Facebook accounts, and now others are following suit.
So we don't want to sit around and wait for them to catch up.
We want to move on again, so over the next few weeks we'll be trying out some new things on here and our sister sites for the Times and Echo.
We'll be trying to maximise what we can do, but it would be great to know what you think.
Whether it's something we can do now, or in the future when we get our swanky new websites, we'd love to hear from you.
Leave a comment on the blog or on the new message forum, or simply fill in our quick survey.
Let the debate begin!
Time to do things like, gasp, forward plan. Work on projects like this blog and how to best utilise the space.
This is a very rare occurrence - normally I'm too busy get the paper out to think beyond the next deadline.
I don't know how I managed it, but on Tuesday afternoon - one of the busiest days of the week - I spent a good couple of hours thinking about new ways to engage you, our readers.
One of the main problems we have as a group - and in that I'm talking about the Tribune, the Bedworth Echo and The Hinckley Times - is our online presence.
We have so many ideas about digital media and the way forward, but we don't necessarily have the facilities to put them into action.
Hopefully that will soon change. Trinity Mirror, the newspaper group to which we belong, is rolling out a new system of websites.
They're all singing, all dancing, and the best thing is they are very community orientated.
But we're pretty ambitious around here, not to mention impatient. Yes, stop shouting all those who know me - I am indeed the most impatient of the lot.
We've led the way with our blogs and Facebook accounts, and now others are following suit.
So we don't want to sit around and wait for them to catch up.
We want to move on again, so over the next few weeks we'll be trying out some new things on here and our sister sites for the Times and Echo.
We'll be trying to maximise what we can do, but it would be great to know what you think.
Whether it's something we can do now, or in the future when we get our swanky new websites, we'd love to hear from you.
Leave a comment on the blog or on the new message forum, or simply fill in our quick survey.
Let the debate begin!
Thursday, 13 March 2008
Clark Kent I ain't...
IT'S not unusual for me to be known to shout at the television.
There are a number of things that can make me raise my voice and start gesticulating like a mad woman.
Paula Abdul telling someone on American Idol they look nice, when she should be judging them on their singing ability.
Horatio Caine on CSI:Miami stopping mid-sentence yet again to remove his sunglasses for effect.
Xander getting away with something stupid for the 6,000th time on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
But what really stirs the inner lunatic is the fictional portrayal of reporters.
As if we didn't have to put up with enough stereotyping and bad press, excuse the pun.
I remember one particular example that shot my blood pressure to new levels.
Younger readers, bear with me.
Back when Eastenders was required watching, there was a character called Polly Becker, who was, and I use the term loosely, an "investigative reporter".
She's certainly like none I've ever known, seeing as how her big scoop was about one married character having an affair and the subsequent drama around his infidelity.
Woah! Big news - not! In real life, this sort of thing would never get near a newspaper, certainly not a regional one.
If we wrote about all the affairs going on in our towns, we'd have no room left for the real news!
The only film I can remember watching with a positive portrayal of reporters is The Paper, but then the whole thing's set in a newsroom, so it should be pretty accurate.
We're either whiter than white with super powers (Clark Kent) or scurrilous and morally bankrupt.
The only super powers I have are managing to get up to 100wpm shorthand on a regular basis.
It's probably national journalists who give us all a bad name - they have a very different approach to what they do.
It's easy for them to breeze into an area, upset everyone, then disappear back to Canary Wharf.
For us, the reality is very different.
Apart from the fact that we genuinely care about our communities and want to do right by them, it just wouldn't be worth our while upsetting people with sensationalism and untruths.
We have to come back into work the next day and face our contacts again - if we don't deal with them correctly, they just stop talking to us.
In our newsroom we pride ourselves on following the mainstays of good journalism.
We always give both sides of the story, we never print something someone told us off the record and we never break an embargo.
It's why people respect what we do - despite the negative images they've normally been bombarded with.
~ Emma Ray
There are a number of things that can make me raise my voice and start gesticulating like a mad woman.
Paula Abdul telling someone on American Idol they look nice, when she should be judging them on their singing ability.
Horatio Caine on CSI:Miami stopping mid-sentence yet again to remove his sunglasses for effect.
Xander getting away with something stupid for the 6,000th time on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
But what really stirs the inner lunatic is the fictional portrayal of reporters.
As if we didn't have to put up with enough stereotyping and bad press, excuse the pun.
I remember one particular example that shot my blood pressure to new levels.
Younger readers, bear with me.
Back when Eastenders was required watching, there was a character called Polly Becker, who was, and I use the term loosely, an "investigative reporter".
She's certainly like none I've ever known, seeing as how her big scoop was about one married character having an affair and the subsequent drama around his infidelity.
Woah! Big news - not! In real life, this sort of thing would never get near a newspaper, certainly not a regional one.
If we wrote about all the affairs going on in our towns, we'd have no room left for the real news!
The only film I can remember watching with a positive portrayal of reporters is The Paper, but then the whole thing's set in a newsroom, so it should be pretty accurate.
We're either whiter than white with super powers (Clark Kent) or scurrilous and morally bankrupt.
The only super powers I have are managing to get up to 100wpm shorthand on a regular basis.
It's probably national journalists who give us all a bad name - they have a very different approach to what they do.
It's easy for them to breeze into an area, upset everyone, then disappear back to Canary Wharf.
For us, the reality is very different.
Apart from the fact that we genuinely care about our communities and want to do right by them, it just wouldn't be worth our while upsetting people with sensationalism and untruths.
We have to come back into work the next day and face our contacts again - if we don't deal with them correctly, they just stop talking to us.
In our newsroom we pride ourselves on following the mainstays of good journalism.
We always give both sides of the story, we never print something someone told us off the record and we never break an embargo.
It's why people respect what we do - despite the negative images they've normally been bombarded with.
~ Emma Ray
Thursday, 6 March 2008
Women are from Venus - with reporter Sam Thorne
NOW I know that the purpose of this blog is to enlighten you all about the ever-fascinating life of a journalist.
But rather than immersing you in endless details of how we got this story and how we got that story, I thought I'd feed you a titbit of office gossip.
Well, not gossip as such, but hopefully it'll give you some idea of life behind the scenes.
A few weeks back, when I was sitting on the Dark Side (the side of the room where the editor, the subs and our chief reporter sits), we had one of those "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" debates.
Now it would seem that a lot of the men in our office (and probably a lot of men outside our office, too) struggle with interpreting what women mean.
By all accounts, what women say and what women actually mean is something of a minefield.
So, probably rather jokingly, I was challenged to write a blog on the intricacies of the female mind. (Yes, we really do have one.)
And so here it is. Men, sit up and pay attention now - this really could change your life.
Perhaps the biggest mistake guys seem to make is misinterpreting the words "no" and "yes." How hard can it be?
Well, in female terms - especially following an argument or when we flounce out of the room with a quick toss of our hair and our hands on our hips - yes means no and no means yes. Got it?
Next up, and for us girls, "I need (fill in the blank, usually with something shoe-shaped)" invariably translates as "I want."
Similarly, "we need" also means "I want." We ladies can be pretty demanding creatures, you understand.
Now you've got that, here are some other vital lessons for you wannabe lotharios.
"How about a movie tonight?" translates as: "If I spend one more night between these four walls, I will start frothing at the mouth!"
When a woman says, "do what you want," this is generally a sign of great danger - trust me guys, you'll pay for it later.
Similarly, if a woman sniffs, "I'm not upset," it almost always means, "of course I'm upset, you moron."
If a woman asks you how she looks, always ALWAYS reply, "beautiful, but you always do, darling." Tread carerfully here, guys - even the slightest hestitation can get you into big trouble.
Finally, beware the fuming woman who asks (sorry, screams) "Are you listening to me?!" If you've tuned out her rantings for even a nano-second, you will need to do some serious grovelling. Trust me on that.
Sam Thorne
But rather than immersing you in endless details of how we got this story and how we got that story, I thought I'd feed you a titbit of office gossip.
Well, not gossip as such, but hopefully it'll give you some idea of life behind the scenes.
A few weeks back, when I was sitting on the Dark Side (the side of the room where the editor, the subs and our chief reporter sits), we had one of those "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" debates.
Now it would seem that a lot of the men in our office (and probably a lot of men outside our office, too) struggle with interpreting what women mean.
By all accounts, what women say and what women actually mean is something of a minefield.
So, probably rather jokingly, I was challenged to write a blog on the intricacies of the female mind. (Yes, we really do have one.)
And so here it is. Men, sit up and pay attention now - this really could change your life.
Perhaps the biggest mistake guys seem to make is misinterpreting the words "no" and "yes." How hard can it be?
Well, in female terms - especially following an argument or when we flounce out of the room with a quick toss of our hair and our hands on our hips - yes means no and no means yes. Got it?
Next up, and for us girls, "I need (fill in the blank, usually with something shoe-shaped)" invariably translates as "I want."
Similarly, "we need" also means "I want." We ladies can be pretty demanding creatures, you understand.
Now you've got that, here are some other vital lessons for you wannabe lotharios.
"How about a movie tonight?" translates as: "If I spend one more night between these four walls, I will start frothing at the mouth!"
When a woman says, "do what you want," this is generally a sign of great danger - trust me guys, you'll pay for it later.
Similarly, if a woman sniffs, "I'm not upset," it almost always means, "of course I'm upset, you moron."
If a woman asks you how she looks, always ALWAYS reply, "beautiful, but you always do, darling." Tread carerfully here, guys - even the slightest hestitation can get you into big trouble.
Finally, beware the fuming woman who asks (sorry, screams) "Are you listening to me?!" If you've tuned out her rantings for even a nano-second, you will need to do some serious grovelling. Trust me on that.
Sam Thorne
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Working anything but 9 to 5...
IT'S been a hectic old week at news central, but we're just about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
There have been a few late nights and early mornings - all work-related, nothing at all to do with fun, you understand.
Last week's full council meeting was okay for, oh, the first three hours, but then the reporter's bench took the unanimous decision to down pens in the hope it might bring a swifter conclusion to affairs.
Half-an-hour later, and we were away.
It's a good trick and 90% of the time is one that's a sure-fire winner.
We're currently working a bit hand to mouth at the moment, because of the continued absence of reporter Ed Stilliard.
Incidentally, his nickname in the office is Eduardo - despite the fact that he's from Sandhurst, not Sao Paulo.
So of course he was the first person I texted while watching the Arsenal game last week.
Unfortunately, he couldn't shed any light on the link between the name Eduardo and broken legs. (For those out of the loop, he's currently recovering from two broken legs.)
Anyway, this week young Ed called to ask me to send him on some press releases by email, because he felt up to doing some work.
Ah, the wonders of modern technology. Someone 125 miles away can turn press releases into newspaper stories from the comfort of their wheelchair.
He did, however, warn me he might get tired and not be able to complete the task, but I guess that's what happens when you absent-mindedly leave several pints of your own blood on the A47.
Unfortunately for us, the work doesn't slow down and we still have the same amount of pages to fill, and the same amount of meetings and night jobs to attend.
This job has never been, and will never be, the subject of a Dolly Parton hit record.
It's one of the reasons we all signed up in the first place - the unpredictability and the sense that you never know what you'll be doing when you come in to work.
Take yesterday for example. I left work Tuesday night knowing exactly what I had to do the following day, and what stories were going where.
The next morning, I'm writing about an earthquake that shook every bed from Newcastle to Southampton.
It certainly keeps you on your toes - and journalists are nothing if not adaptable.
Personally I think I'm well-suited to the job - mainly because I've got the attention span of a goldfish!
There have been a few late nights and early mornings - all work-related, nothing at all to do with fun, you understand.
Last week's full council meeting was okay for, oh, the first three hours, but then the reporter's bench took the unanimous decision to down pens in the hope it might bring a swifter conclusion to affairs.
Half-an-hour later, and we were away.
It's a good trick and 90% of the time is one that's a sure-fire winner.
We're currently working a bit hand to mouth at the moment, because of the continued absence of reporter Ed Stilliard.
Incidentally, his nickname in the office is Eduardo - despite the fact that he's from Sandhurst, not Sao Paulo.
So of course he was the first person I texted while watching the Arsenal game last week.
Unfortunately, he couldn't shed any light on the link between the name Eduardo and broken legs. (For those out of the loop, he's currently recovering from two broken legs.)
Anyway, this week young Ed called to ask me to send him on some press releases by email, because he felt up to doing some work.
Ah, the wonders of modern technology. Someone 125 miles away can turn press releases into newspaper stories from the comfort of their wheelchair.
He did, however, warn me he might get tired and not be able to complete the task, but I guess that's what happens when you absent-mindedly leave several pints of your own blood on the A47.
Unfortunately for us, the work doesn't slow down and we still have the same amount of pages to fill, and the same amount of meetings and night jobs to attend.
This job has never been, and will never be, the subject of a Dolly Parton hit record.
It's one of the reasons we all signed up in the first place - the unpredictability and the sense that you never know what you'll be doing when you come in to work.
Take yesterday for example. I left work Tuesday night knowing exactly what I had to do the following day, and what stories were going where.
The next morning, I'm writing about an earthquake that shook every bed from Newcastle to Southampton.
It certainly keeps you on your toes - and journalists are nothing if not adaptable.
Personally I think I'm well-suited to the job - mainly because I've got the attention span of a goldfish!
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Paper planes
WHEN we kicked off this blog I promised you some newsroom gossip and as regular readers will know, that's been in pretty short supply.
Well, it's about time I made up for that.
I'll start off with the young tyke sitting next to me, Bedworth Echo sports reporter Johnny Harris.
John-boy is the king of many things in our office, from the singing of football songs throughout the day (and I'm talking all day, every day) to philosophising about the wooing of women.
The latter involves a night watching football on the telly with a Chinese takeaway and a few beers.
It's the Bedworth way apparently, and it seems to have worked for him as he's been with his good lady for seven years.
But by far what John does best is annoy photographers. Admittedly, this isn't too hard as they are grumpy by
nature.
It's like the old adage about goalkeepers being crazy. Happy snappers (a phrase guaranteed to raise their blood pressure) are miserable so-and-sos by birth.
Having said that, the two lads in our office are pretty good on that score, but John knows how to find their photographic finger - it's like their Achilles heel, accept more annoying.
At any given time, John will have a mound of screwed up pieces of paper on his desk.
He stockpiles them for a time, balling up whatever waste paper he finds, then unleashes across the room at the photographic department.
He tries to find the most inopportune moment to do this, and generally succeeds.
Scoop, as he likes to call himself, also likes to make paper airplanes so for Christmas I bought him one of those desk calendars that has a different plane for every day of the year.
It has proved to be a rip-roaring success and our office can sometimes look like an airshow in miniature when we all let fly when the pressure of work becomes too much and we want a bit of a break.
It's the little things that get you through the day.
Newsrooms are quite different to your normal run-of-the-mill office, and that's part of why we love our jobs so much.
So if you see a low-flying paper airplane coming your way, it probably took off from here.
Thursday, 14 February 2008
Jargon busters
IN THIS week's edition of the Tribune, we have two in-depth features on major issues affecting the area.
The first is about the proposal to co-locate North Warwickshire and Hinckley College and King Edward VI College on a new town centre site.
The second is about the new Virgin Trains timetable which will see a drastic reduction in fast trains to London from Nuneaton.
Both of these stories are having a major impact on people's lives.
The college could herald a bright new dawn for learners, but there are also concerns it could cause traffic chaos and parking havoc.
On the issue of trains, protestors believe that cutting fast services to London will seriously damage the local economy, not to mention inconvenience travellers.
Train bosses say it's all about demand, and we don't have enough of it.
Both these stories are complex and in circumstances like that, the key thing for journalists is to make sure everything is simple to understand.
You have to be a bit of a jack of all trades to be a reporter.
You must be able to understand everything from council agendas to law courts, and Mothers' Union reports to House of Commons debates.
Sometimes it's easy to get seduced by the jargon and terminology we have to deal with every day, and the danger is that we pass that on to the reader.
But we need to avoid using things like "traffic impact assessment", "capital receipts" and "regional spatial strategy".
Some people, used to working with these terms, will be fully aware of what they mean but a golden rule for journalists is never assume - it makes an ass out of you and me.
We try and simplify these kinds of phrases to get to the heart of the story.
That means we report the facts in an easy to read way, and that should mean you all get the information you need to keep informed on the issues at the heart of our community.
The first is about the proposal to co-locate North Warwickshire and Hinckley College and King Edward VI College on a new town centre site.
The second is about the new Virgin Trains timetable which will see a drastic reduction in fast trains to London from Nuneaton.
Both of these stories are having a major impact on people's lives.
The college could herald a bright new dawn for learners, but there are also concerns it could cause traffic chaos and parking havoc.
On the issue of trains, protestors believe that cutting fast services to London will seriously damage the local economy, not to mention inconvenience travellers.
Train bosses say it's all about demand, and we don't have enough of it.
Both these stories are complex and in circumstances like that, the key thing for journalists is to make sure everything is simple to understand.
You have to be a bit of a jack of all trades to be a reporter.
You must be able to understand everything from council agendas to law courts, and Mothers' Union reports to House of Commons debates.
Sometimes it's easy to get seduced by the jargon and terminology we have to deal with every day, and the danger is that we pass that on to the reader.
But we need to avoid using things like "traffic impact assessment", "capital receipts" and "regional spatial strategy".
Some people, used to working with these terms, will be fully aware of what they mean but a golden rule for journalists is never assume - it makes an ass out of you and me.
We try and simplify these kinds of phrases to get to the heart of the story.
That means we report the facts in an easy to read way, and that should mean you all get the information you need to keep informed on the issues at the heart of our community.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
Never put all your stories in one basket...
I'VE been in journalism now for 12 years and in that time I've seen an awful lot of changes.
Although the essentials of our trade are a pen and a shorthand notepad, we have become increasingly reliant on technology.
In my first job, scalpels were as popular in the editorial department as they are in an operating theatre.
That's because when stories had been subbed and pictures sized, they would be printed off on special paper called bromide.
It then became an exercise in jigsaw completion. The stories and photos would be cut out with the help of a very sharp scalpel, then arranged on a piece of card that represented a single page, with columns marked on to aid design.
These would then be driven by van to the printing press.
At my next job, things took a slight step forward.
Our stories from the Nuneaton Evening Telegraph could be sent via computer to the head office in Coventry - but the catch was only one person could transmit at a time.
That meant when you had completed a story, you had to shout "anyone sending?" at the top of your voice, then go for it if they weren't.
The problem was, some people used to forget this vital step of the process. Naming no names, but Derek Brown was the main culprit.
If you tried to send when someone else was, it would mess up both procedures and you'd have to start all over again, furiously typing transmission codes into your computer.
Eventually, we were given new computers with, to our amazement, personal e-mail addresses and internet access.
Since then, news gathering has become far more of a reactive process, with most stories or tip-offs coming in by e-mail, closely followed by phone calls. Faxes and snail mail trail in behind.
It's great from a speed point of view, and can make life a whole lot easier - not to mention kinder on the planet.
But if you have a tendency to be a big clumsy oaf, like I am on the odd occasion, it can spell disaster.
At any given time I have at least 30 stories on the go via my e-mail.
So when you wipe out every folder in your system with one errant click of the mouse, well, the shock can leave even me speechless.
When it happens on deadline day, stay well away.
We've never put out a blank newspaper yet, though, so rest assured your Tribune will be there in all its glory next week.
Although the essentials of our trade are a pen and a shorthand notepad, we have become increasingly reliant on technology.
In my first job, scalpels were as popular in the editorial department as they are in an operating theatre.
That's because when stories had been subbed and pictures sized, they would be printed off on special paper called bromide.
It then became an exercise in jigsaw completion. The stories and photos would be cut out with the help of a very sharp scalpel, then arranged on a piece of card that represented a single page, with columns marked on to aid design.
These would then be driven by van to the printing press.
At my next job, things took a slight step forward.
Our stories from the Nuneaton Evening Telegraph could be sent via computer to the head office in Coventry - but the catch was only one person could transmit at a time.
That meant when you had completed a story, you had to shout "anyone sending?" at the top of your voice, then go for it if they weren't.
The problem was, some people used to forget this vital step of the process. Naming no names, but Derek Brown was the main culprit.
If you tried to send when someone else was, it would mess up both procedures and you'd have to start all over again, furiously typing transmission codes into your computer.
Eventually, we were given new computers with, to our amazement, personal e-mail addresses and internet access.
Since then, news gathering has become far more of a reactive process, with most stories or tip-offs coming in by e-mail, closely followed by phone calls. Faxes and snail mail trail in behind.
It's great from a speed point of view, and can make life a whole lot easier - not to mention kinder on the planet.
But if you have a tendency to be a big clumsy oaf, like I am on the odd occasion, it can spell disaster.
At any given time I have at least 30 stories on the go via my e-mail.
So when you wipe out every folder in your system with one errant click of the mouse, well, the shock can leave even me speechless.
When it happens on deadline day, stay well away.
We've never put out a blank newspaper yet, though, so rest assured your Tribune will be there in all its glory next week.
Thursday, 31 January 2008
Busier than a busy bee on a very busy day...
TO SAY the last week has been a bit of a whirl would be a huge understatement.
As we journalists are known more for sensationalising stories than playing them down, I shall go the other way and say it's been the busiest working week for anyone, ever.
There's one reason for this I can tell you about, and one I can't because it's a secret. Hee.
The first is Ed Stilliard.
My reporter friend and colleague from the Bedworth Echo was tootling home on his Vespa last Wednesday when he collided with a car at traffic lights in Leicester.
Note that I said "collided with". We can't say one person hit another, or that they crashed. It's all to do with apportioning blame, something we're not in a position to do.
It always sounds weird when you have to say a pedestrian collided with a car, as if they have hurled themselves at the vehicle from the side of the road.
But, sadly, those are the rules we have to adhere to. There's your journalism 101 lesson for today.
Anyhow, young Ed managed to sustain two broken legs and will now be a resident of Leicester Royal Infirmary for the foreseeable future.
It's one hell of a way of getting out of doing a shorthand exam, but desperate times and all that.
As the Tribune is a one-woman band, and the Echo a one-man one, any absence really hits us hard, particularly as we also share stories between publications.
Luckily, though, we work from the office of The Hinckley Times, so I have been able to call on reporters for help.
Getting much time out of former Echo reporter Sam Dimmer, now a high-flyer on the Times with more work than he can wave a ballpoint pen at, is like trying to book the Arctic Monkeys for the Civic Hall.
But he throws me some crumbs and by golly they're appreciated. Rachel Parrish, former Nuneaton Evening Telegraph reporter, has been invaluable and everyone else is playing a part.
Which is why I have felt the need to swan off as of Wednesday on a secret mission.
It's a cunning plan, you see. I make everyone think I'm desperate, they do all the work, and then I take time off.
Brilliant!
As we journalists are known more for sensationalising stories than playing them down, I shall go the other way and say it's been the busiest working week for anyone, ever.
There's one reason for this I can tell you about, and one I can't because it's a secret. Hee.
The first is Ed Stilliard.
My reporter friend and colleague from the Bedworth Echo was tootling home on his Vespa last Wednesday when he collided with a car at traffic lights in Leicester.
Note that I said "collided with". We can't say one person hit another, or that they crashed. It's all to do with apportioning blame, something we're not in a position to do.
It always sounds weird when you have to say a pedestrian collided with a car, as if they have hurled themselves at the vehicle from the side of the road.
But, sadly, those are the rules we have to adhere to. There's your journalism 101 lesson for today.
Anyhow, young Ed managed to sustain two broken legs and will now be a resident of Leicester Royal Infirmary for the foreseeable future.
It's one hell of a way of getting out of doing a shorthand exam, but desperate times and all that.
As the Tribune is a one-woman band, and the Echo a one-man one, any absence really hits us hard, particularly as we also share stories between publications.
Luckily, though, we work from the office of The Hinckley Times, so I have been able to call on reporters for help.
Getting much time out of former Echo reporter Sam Dimmer, now a high-flyer on the Times with more work than he can wave a ballpoint pen at, is like trying to book the Arctic Monkeys for the Civic Hall.
But he throws me some crumbs and by golly they're appreciated. Rachel Parrish, former Nuneaton Evening Telegraph reporter, has been invaluable and everyone else is playing a part.
Which is why I have felt the need to swan off as of Wednesday on a secret mission.
It's a cunning plan, you see. I make everyone think I'm desperate, they do all the work, and then I take time off.
Brilliant!
Thursday, 24 January 2008
Fight for Raymond Liggins' Sight
This week's front page features the plight of Raymond Liggins, from Nuneaton, who is fighting to get treatment on the NHS that will save his sight.
He is already blind in one eye, and is slowly losing sight in the other eye. He is also deaf in one ear. On top of all that, he looks after his stroke-victim wife, Olive.
Raymond has used up nearly all his life-savings on paying for injections that are saving his sight. Now he needs NHS help, but Warwickshire PCT are refusing treatment.
We believe he should have the treatment. If you do too, please post your comments here and we will ensure they get to the PCT.
This is your newspaper - join the debate.
The Full Story
A DESPERATE battle to save a Nuneaton man’s sight is being backed by MP Bill Olner.
Raymond Liggins is facing a race against time to convince Warwickshire Primary Care Trust to fund treatment that could stop him going blind in his right eye.
The age-related macular degeneration has already left him blind in his left eye, and he is also deaf in one ear.
The 76-year-old former Dunlop worker cares for his stroke victim wife, 72-year-old Olive, and the couple have raided their life-savings to pay for treatment.
The money is now running out for the pensioner’s vital Lucentis injections and the couple have issued a desperate plea for the trust to change its mind.
They are being backed by the Royal National Institute for the Blind and the Macular Disease Society.
And Nuneaton MP Bill Olner says he will do all he can to help.
Raymond, of Windmill Road, said: “When the right eye started to go the same way as the left, I knew I had to do something straight away. I went to the University Hospital in Walsgrave and they rushed everything through because of my history.
“They said it was the same thing but they couldn’t do anything for me and I’d have to go private.
“After three injections I could read four lines on the eye chart. It was bringing me back. Now, that’s up to nearly five.
“I’ve paid for four injections, at £1,520 each, and now the money is running out. Trials show that in 95% of cases, people having 20 injections have their sight successfully restored.
“I’m so depressed thinking that I could go blind because the trust won’t pay for my treatment. It’s morally wrong.”
Olive said: “Raymond’s consultant at University Hospital has even written on his behalf to say he should have the treatment but it hasn’t made any difference.
“If he goes blind we will cost the state a lot more money, for care through social services, than it would cost to fund this treatment.”
David Rose, chief executive of trust, said: “Warwickshire PCT commissions an extensive range of treatments and health services for the local population of 500,000 in line with national NHS guidelines.
“The National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (Nice) issues guidance to the NHS on treatments and procedures following extensive trial and review and Warwickshire PCT follows all mandatory Nice guidelines.
“The drug Lucentis is not in these guidelines so it is not routinely commissioned by this PCT, along with other PCTs in the West Midlands.”
Bill Olner said: “I’m absolutely more than happy to try and convince the trust to change its mind on Mr Liggins’ behalf if he gets in touch with me.
“I urge him to get in contact and I will do all I can to help.”
Barbara McLaughan, RNIB campaigns manager, said: “It’s an absolute disgrace that he is effectively being told to pay up or go blind.”
She urged the trust to reconsider its decision and adopt revised Nice guidelines which she said meant that Lucentis could be prescribed on the NHS.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
Game old birds and the spice of life
Last week's blog featured a good old-fashioned whinge about how things were far better in the "good old days" when I was a cub reporter.
You would have been forgiven for getting a mental image of me as a wrinkled, jaded old hack who started out in the old hot metal days.
Or you would if my mug wasn't splattered all over the pages of the Trib!
Well, only the jaded part is really true, what with me being a youthful 33 and relatively wrinkle-free.
The good thing about this job, though, is that no matter how cynical you get - and believe me, the levels can get pretty high - there's always something waiting round the corner to give you a bit of a lift.
Variety is not just the spice of life, it's also what makes this job so cool. You never know what is going to happen from day to day.
So while some things can be predicted - like bashing in press releases or doing our daily round of morning calls to the emergency services - others cannot.
This week there was a perfect example of why I love this job so much.
It's all about the people who make our communities so fascinating and sometimes you meet someone new who makes a big impression.
Gwen Johnson is a perfect example.
"Game old bird" might sound like an insult, but it suits her perfectly.
The Atherstone pensioner waited until her 80th birthday to make a point about the value of the older generation.
On checking she had actually got her staggeringly generous 25p extra in her pension, she promptly dug out the right change from her purse and sent it off to the chancellor, Alistair Darling.
Her message was, simply, stuff it.
I had a long chat with Gwen about her gesture, and game old bird just sums her up.
I hope I'm as feisty, forthright and opinionated as she is when, god willing, I get to her age.
I've got a pretty good chance - my mother's as game an old bird as they come, and they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!
You would have been forgiven for getting a mental image of me as a wrinkled, jaded old hack who started out in the old hot metal days.
Or you would if my mug wasn't splattered all over the pages of the Trib!
Well, only the jaded part is really true, what with me being a youthful 33 and relatively wrinkle-free.
The good thing about this job, though, is that no matter how cynical you get - and believe me, the levels can get pretty high - there's always something waiting round the corner to give you a bit of a lift.
Variety is not just the spice of life, it's also what makes this job so cool. You never know what is going to happen from day to day.
So while some things can be predicted - like bashing in press releases or doing our daily round of morning calls to the emergency services - others cannot.
This week there was a perfect example of why I love this job so much.
It's all about the people who make our communities so fascinating and sometimes you meet someone new who makes a big impression.
Gwen Johnson is a perfect example.
"Game old bird" might sound like an insult, but it suits her perfectly.
The Atherstone pensioner waited until her 80th birthday to make a point about the value of the older generation.
On checking she had actually got her staggeringly generous 25p extra in her pension, she promptly dug out the right change from her purse and sent it off to the chancellor, Alistair Darling.
Her message was, simply, stuff it.
I had a long chat with Gwen about her gesture, and game old bird just sums her up.
I hope I'm as feisty, forthright and opinionated as she is when, god willing, I get to her age.
I've got a pretty good chance - my mother's as game an old bird as they come, and they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!
Tuesday, 15 January 2008
Sub-editors have a sense of humour too - who knew?
As well as being pedantic, greying, generally bespectacled and with an air of self-importance, sub-editors also have a great line in bad jokes.
A certain silver-haired gentleman on the subbing team spends most of his time in a little world of his own, emerging only to relay the latest joke from the book he was given as his secret Santa present.
Here's the most recent:
A mother and baby camel are talking one day when the baby camel asks, "Mum, why have I got these huge three-toed feet?"
The mother replies, "Well, son, when we trek across the desert, your toes will help you to stay on top of the soft sand."
"OK," said the son. A few minutes later the son asks, "Mum, why have I got these great long eyelashes?"
"They are there to keep the sand out of your eyes on the trips through the desert."
"Thanks, Mum," replies the son. After a short while, the son returns and asks, "Mum, why have I got these great big humps on my back?"
The mother, now a little impatient with the boy, replies, "They are there to help us store fat for our long treks across the desert, so we can go without water for long periods."
"That's great, Mum. So we have huge feet to stop us sinking, and long eyelashes to keep the sand from our eyes, and these humps to store water, but Mum..."
"Yes, son?"
"Why are we in Twycross Zoo?"
A certain silver-haired gentleman on the subbing team spends most of his time in a little world of his own, emerging only to relay the latest joke from the book he was given as his secret Santa present.
Here's the most recent:
A mother and baby camel are talking one day when the baby camel asks, "Mum, why have I got these huge three-toed feet?"
The mother replies, "Well, son, when we trek across the desert, your toes will help you to stay on top of the soft sand."
"OK," said the son. A few minutes later the son asks, "Mum, why have I got these great long eyelashes?"
"They are there to keep the sand out of your eyes on the trips through the desert."
"Thanks, Mum," replies the son. After a short while, the son returns and asks, "Mum, why have I got these great big humps on my back?"
The mother, now a little impatient with the boy, replies, "They are there to help us store fat for our long treks across the desert, so we can go without water for long periods."
"That's great, Mum. So we have huge feet to stop us sinking, and long eyelashes to keep the sand from our eyes, and these humps to store water, but Mum..."
"Yes, son?"
"Why are we in Twycross Zoo?"
Mindless automotons? Not us!
The modern journalist spends a lot of time staring at their computer screen.
Not stalking the streets for stories, not pressing the flesh of the public hoping to make new contacts, and certainly not propping up the bar like our older (for older read ancient), cardiganned, grumpy sub-editors used to.
No, nowadays it's all about story counts and speed. We don't have a morning conference at the copshop anymore. Instead we stare intensely at the Warwickshire Police website hoping there'll be an update of some kind.
More than 30 minutes of this in one go and the site starts to look like a magic eye creation, all shifting shapes and strange images. I swear I saw Larry Grayson one day, but then I was a little worse for wear.
Once an incident is posted, instead of speaking to a sergeant or inspector, we ring someone in the press office, who then speak to the police for us and come back with information. This sometimes creates more questions than answers and we will have the choice of asking them to go back to the officer, or forget the whole thing because it's going to take too long and it will in no way be as good as speaking to a real person.
There's also the chance, as happened with the brothel story last week, we'll be told no such incident can be found when we ring up an hour after it's happened. The next day, deadline done and dusted, we resume the website-staring only to see the incident we'd asked about sitting there proudly at the top of the list, waiting to be lapped up appreciatively by the dailies, who'll have it to themselves for a whole seven days.
Back in the good old days, when I was a cub reporter, this type of scenario would have involved a complex game of cat and mouse with the rival reporters.
You'd sit through the morning police conference, mentioning not a syllable about your "exclusive". At the end of the chat, during which time you will have either a) had your shorthand skills severely tested or b) had some good-natured banter with a sprinkling of news thrown in depending on which inspector you got, it was time for some play-acting.
The essential first stage of the deceit is to take an absolute aeon to pack up. Oh look I've dropped my pen. Gosh, I just can't seem to cram my notepad into my stylish yet affordable courier bag.
All this is to ensure you are last to leave the room. If you succeeded the next stage was even harder. You would have a split second time frame to allow the last reporter to leave the room in front of you, half leave yourself, then quickly turn back to the inspector and ask, in the sweetest of tones, "could I just check one thing with you?"
Get it right, and the exclusive was in the bag. Get it wrong, and you'd have all the others loitering at the door while you gave away your potential Pulitzer prize-winning tale.
Yes, that really was life on the edge! Nowadays it's all sanitised news releases and virtual people. Spokesman and representatives.
It's the main reason why we are using new media like this blog, Facebook and email to get back to basics - interaction with our readers and their stories. Using the new to go back to the old - pretty nifty, eh?
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
The Virgin Post
Greetings brave readers who have made the leap from the reassuringly familiar pages of the Tribune to this, the new frontier.
Okay, so that sounds a little grandiose, but this is a pretty big deal for us. We haven't exactly been at the forefront of modern technology in recent years, so instead of aiming for the 20th century, we've gone straight for the 21st instead.
It's part of what readers will hopefully see as a fresher, more vibrant approach to what's going on in our communities.
You can even contact me via Facebook - how swanky's that? Just look for me under Emma Ray Nuneaton Tribune.
The aim of this blog is to give a bit of a feel for how the paper works, what it's like being a regional news reporter, and, if you're lucky, a bit of office gossip.
By the very nature of our work, we should be out of the spotlight, but hopefully this will show journalists are human beings too!
In fact, you only have to look at this picture of me interviewing former England rugby captain Martin Corry to know professionalism can easily give way to awe in the blink of an eye. He's a real gentle giant. Very big arms. Anyway...
One thing people who don't work in newspapers don't realise is that news is seasonal. Sounds strange, doesn't it? Nevertheless, it's true. Summer holidays, in particular, can be pretty lean for regional newspapers. Contacts jet off to sunnier climes - damn them! - and at the schools, one of our biggest source of stories, the teachers elbow the pupils out the way as they race for the exits and a long six weeks off.
January is another slow time for us. For the Christmas editions, when mince pies and eggnog take priority over contacting the press, we have to stockpile stories in order to fill our festive editions.
Come January, and we're down to the bare bones. This year has been no different. Those drawing the conclusion that it's not coincidental we are launching the blog this week would not be too far wide of the mark.
As in, bang on.
Hopefully, the digital age will open up a whole new vista for us, but more importantly, for you. Get to know us. Learn about what we do. Criticise us and praise in, hopefully, equal measure.
But most importantly, get involved in what we do. It's your community, so it's your newspaper.
- Emma Ray
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