Last Updated: January 26, 2000
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Good writing
In addition to keeping us from going late every day,
deadlines help keep a sense of newsroom urgency alive
Journalists’ assumptions about time tell me a lot about their newsroom
culture. So, in workshops, I always ask staffers about their deadlines.
And I get some startling answers, like this:
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“The deadline is one minute after I file and leave for home.”
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“The deadline is between 6 and 8,” or “the deadline is sevenish.”
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“Editors have deadlines, not reporters,” and vice versa.
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“The only deadline we have is the ‘off-the-floor’ deadline.”
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“We do have deadlines, but nobody pays any attention to them,” and
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“We don’t have deadlines.”
Yes, you read that last item right: no deadlines. I estimate that 5 percent
of the papers I deal with don’t have deadlines, and all of those come out
late.
In one newsroom, seven metro editors rewrote press releases just to
fill their section, because their ten reporters had no deadlines. One writer
had not filed for three weeks.
One morning paper prides itself on wide coverage, stories about night
meetings from remote bureaus. But the daytime reporters downtown have no
deadlines, file late, and swamp the desks so they can’t edit the late copy
at all.
What are deadlines for?
A newspaper needs deadlines simply to be a newspaper. Without deadlines,
the paper loses its sense of urgency, which is the essence, and the fun,
of our profession. Stories slide in their reporting, waiting for complete
information. Editors hold stories because they lack something or might
cause somebody somewhere a problem, until they get old and die. (The stories,
not the editors.)
Modern production methods, especially graphics and pagination, have
not speeded up our output. Rather, they require more coordination, more
teamwork and more effort. But newsrooms continue to shrink, necessitating
even more precise interaction. Properly met deadlines keep the gears meshing.
A lack of deadlines, or a culture of not meeting them, leads to “shoveling”
copy, the norm in most newsrooms after about 9 p.m.
Absent or unmet deadlines further undermine the copy desk, already under
heavy strain. In one paper I visited, copy editors played pinochle for
three hours waiting for copy, and then shoveled for the rest of the long
night. Pagination has deprived copy editors everywhere of half their reading
time, and late copy can take away the other half. Then you get headlines
and cutlines swiped from leads, and no “safety-net” reading.
Anybody who sits on a copy desk knows that at about 8 or 9 p.m., the
ceiling suddenly opens, and a giant wad of the worst copy hits all at once.
Mushy deadlines move the arrival of this difficult copy later in the cycle,
when copy editors have run out of time, energy, and interest.
What do deadlines mean?
Some staffs disagree on what the deadline means, but they don’t know
that. Many reporters who consistently file late regard the deadline as
when they come in, not when their story comes in; their editors judge them
as just slow. In one paper, the whole staff agreed that the deadline for
all stories was 8:30 p.m. But the reporters regarded 8:30 as their filing
deadline, while the desk editors believed they had to transmit stories
to the copy desk by 8:30. Bingo! No wonder they came out late.
No pain, no game
So make sure you have deadlines, that everybody agrees on what they
mean, and everybody meets them, including you.
Someone asked the poet Robert Frost why he didn’t write free verse.
Frost replied, “Why don’t you play tennis without a net?” Journalism ain’t
much of a game without deadlines.
Don Fry, an affiliate of the Poynter Institute, works as a writing
coach out of Charlottesville, Va. Call him at 804/296-6830.