End of year, new beginnings

This is my last appearance of 2017, so I should share something about my job before the year ends.

For instance, the question I’m most often asked is this: “How do you find all these things to write about?”

Easy.

In fact, there are far more subjects worth exploring than there are days my column is published.

The next question, though, is interesting: “Well, how do you put the story together? Like, what goes first and what goes at the end?”

Ah, yes.

The answer is that once you’ve identified a subject, the heart of the thing is structured like this: a lead (rhymes with need, not red), a transition, the explanation of whatever your lead introduced, one more transition, and the finale.

I’ve always found it fascinating that in creative writing classes and workshops, they can teach — to some degree — how to find “leads” and “discussion points,” but only talent and experience can give you transitions.

Those can’t be learned in a book.

AND THAT previous sentence, by the way, was a transition.

I wasn’t thinking of it when I started typing, but like looking for somebody’s cabin deep in the woods, you just know it when you get there.

Now we’re stepping up to the main item here: I want to finish this year by letting you play around in the world of “leads.”

Any teacher will say that the first paragraph of a story (or column, like this one) must intrigue the reader enough to encourage further exploration.

Besides, “leads” are fun.

A New York editor once berated his staff because their lead sentences were too long and tiring.

“Short” he screamed. “I want short leads.”

So the next day, a reporter turned in a story that began...

“Dead.

“That’s what Edwin Matchstick became on Wednesday, after being struck by a taxi at the corner of 33rd St. and 8th Ave.”

TALES ABOUT these things always seem to begin in New York, but no one objects.

In fact, never mind whether or not they’re true. They’ve been heard by generations of journalists, so we repeat them on faith — and sometimes, for your amusement.

The stories are timeless, as well.

Supposedly, a young reporter was sent from New York to cover the horrendous Johnstown Flood of 1889, when almost 15 million gallons of water suddenly swamped that Pennsylvania village, killing more than 2,000 souls and flattening all in its path.

The kid journalist was stunned by the devastation he saw, and in an effort to describe it (and impress his boss), he cabled this lead back to the newspaper: “God sits on the hills overlooking Johnstown tonight.”

Takes your breath away, right?

Not for a crusty newspaper editor, it didn’t.

The return telegram from New York read: “To hell with the flood. Interview God.”

And on that note...

Our present conversation needs a 2017 finale.

This time around, it’s almost too easy.

Happy New Year, everyone!

•••

Steve Cameron is a columnist for The Press.

Email: [email protected].

Facebook: BrandNewDayCDAPress.

Twitter: @BrandNewDayCDA