Stepping away from one role ...

... and into another. A day after stepping out of the IBJ newsroom, I spent a couple more days going back to my roots as a sports reporter, covering the Brickyard 400 for our local community newspaper.

Always look for different angles. I tried to find a few.
Post-race:
Menard family paid its Indy dues
Sidebar: Fuel-mileage racing here to stay 
Pre-race (from Friday's practice session):
Lots of parity in NASCAR field
Notebook: Drivers like Lucas Oil Raceway

Calling it a day

I've spent half my summer waking up early (OK, 7:30 a.m. is sleeping in for a teacher) and driving to downtown Indianapolis to represent my school and the IHSPA, and most importantly, learn something about another side of the craft I've been entrusted to pass along to my students.

Less than two weeks from now, my staff will convene and the things learned here will be seen in what they do. The deadline checklists, the way to utilize multimedia as an alternative to daily publication, the idea of editors working with writers to craft stories, a more detailed story idea form ... all of that will be incorporated into our class and our staff.

We have more than doubled the number of intro to journalism students at New Palestine this year, and I'm excited about the future. They don't know it yet, but they'll be gleaning a lot of good things from this experience, too. It has helped focus me as a writer, as a writing coach, as a teacher and as a leader.

I'm very, very grateful to Dennis Cripe and Diana Hadley for allowing me to be a part of this, as well as the Hoosier State Press Association and the Indiana High School Press Association (and, in a great coincidence, one of my sources is an ex-IHSPA president). Also, I'm grateful to IBJ editor Tom Harton and online editor Andrea Davis, with whom I worked very closely to craft some of the stories that will be posted in the future. This experienced pushed me out of my comfort zone and made me a better journalist -- which will make me a better journalism teacher.

I have a bunch of stories in the hopper, so as noted yesterday, I'll keep writing as they are published and tell a little bit about them and how they came together. Tomorrow, I head out of here to a more comfortable place for me, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, where I'll be covering the Brickyard 400 for our local paper. No doubt, I'll be taking the lessons learned here into covering the race this weekend.

Thanks for reading!

Nearing the end

Four and a half weeks ago, I nervously walked into the newsroom here not quite knowing what to expect.

You can read past posts to see some of my stream-of-consciousness thoughts, feelings and joys from throughout the last month. Some have been great. Some have been pretty depressing. But the main point of this internship was to learn something. And I've learned quite a bit, about a different side of journalism, how a successful publication with a high-quality staff and a metropolitan focus operates, about how to keep stories fresh when you don't have a daily deadline. The most important thing is being able to take these experiences back to our classroom when our staff convenes two weeks from today. Between now and then, I'll be reworking our staff manuals and trying to carry forward the lessons learned here into the future.

A few things I'll take away from this experience.

• You don't have to be daily to have a daily presence. The Internet has revolutionized journalism, and it can revolutionize high school journalism. Use your print publication for timeless, bigger-picture stories. But have your reporters' ears open to *report* on the daily stories. Your website doesn't have to have a tons of bells and whistles to be the go-to destination. 
• Social media can be wonderful. IBJ.com had more than 10,000 hits from Facebook and Twitter in a month. That's an easy way to push your brand and get stories out there to the general public, another gateway to your readers. 
• Multimedia is our future. Teach your students to be "backpack journalists" and how to use and edit video to enhance stories. This next year, we have eliminated the position of staff photographer and we will have all students shoot their own stories because we had too many issues where things didn't quite match up, and also because students need to be more well-rounded. It doesn't have to be a slickly-produced TV package. It can be as simple as recording and putting a 5-minute interview with the principal or a postgame chat with the football team's running back online.
• Source your stories. I learned it the hard way, but don't be too afraid to ask the simple question. Those questions are vital in making sure the story is accurate and right. A lot of times, young reporters are so nervous and afraid to interview people, they ask a minimum amount of questions and get out of there, and then don't follow up. Also, don't be afraid to call the extra source. 
• Get out of your comfort zone. It's not a surprise that a simple three-source story on a focused topic took me less than 90 minutes to do. It's also not a surprise that I had little trouble putting together an education story, and went into an extreme amount of depth with it (I talked with the principal, a teacher, the superintendent, two outside consultants, a guidance counselor and the custodial staff, a few more sources than were probably necessary). But those stories were in my wheelhouse. Doing stories about urban issues -- redevelopment, urban planning, urban gardening, food trucks and the like -- are way out of my comfort zone, but they've made me a better reporter.
• Keep the BS meter high. When a source tells you something, go check it out. I was doing a story on an urban planner, and so I altered my route to work to see exactly what he had planned. It checked out pretty well, but not all stories have. 
• Facts and numbers are critical. Try to boil generalities down to exact numbers.
• Your sources usually want to tell their story. Give them a chance. Don't assume you're being intrusive. Sources also understand the power of the press.
• Edit, edit and edit some more. There is value in editing a story with an editor. Require your editors to do that. 
• Every source is important. In this assignment, I've sat in on a chat with the Pacers coach, had one-on-one interviews with the Ball State University president, a federal administration department chief, talked with the superintendent of Indianapolis Public Schools. But other than the Frank Vogel story (a video story that one of our other reporters did and I sat in on), the other sources were not the focuses of the stories. The stories focused mostly on the other people involved. I quoted contractors and teachers as much as I quoted the presidents and superintendents. 
• My students hate meetings -- and all reporters, I think, do. But getting together on a regular basis to discuss story placement, art, what's going to happen in each edition is important. Your section editors need to check in on their reporters every day to determine progress and offer suggestions.
• A weekly or bi-weekly deadline cycle isn't a hindrance. You have to teach your writers to think big picture. The IBJ is one of the area's most respected publications, and it is a weekly publication that is finished on Thursday and dated the following Monday. How? By focusing on timeless, longer-form stories. 
• Don't try to overdo it. I've been working on the same story for a week, and it's given me writer's block, headaches, and I come home from the newsroom tired every night because I just can't get the story quite right. I've got one more day to do it, and I'm going to keep looking for inspiration, but keep it simple. The process of writing is a long one, but it doesn't have to be an overboard one.

As stories appear in the newspaper, I'll keep writing. There are a few items we've done that I've worked on, but I feel an ethical desire to not scoop myself and the publication that has entrusted me with their work.

The dreaded email

In scholastic circles, we know the grading scale -- 90-100 is an A, 80-89 is a B, and so forth. Of course, on such a grading scale, that means you can be wrong 40 percent of the time and still pass. It cracks me up when students laughingly say "D means diploma," as if they're proud of being wrong 40 percent of the time and just barely skating by.

I want my students to aim higher than 60 percent -- I want them to try to attain excellence and succeed up to, and even beyond, their potential.

But in journalism, it's vital. A 95 percent grade isn't an "A" in our profession, it's failure.

Today, the latest edition of the IBJ hits the streets, and my story on the Hoosier Momma company -- the first one I wrote for this publication four weeks ago -- is the Page 3 centerpiece. I had quite a bit of pride in seeing such a story on the page on Thursday when it was getting ready to head to production, one of the top stories in a well-respected publication.

Then, I came into the office this morning and saw my inbox, with an email from one of the company's owners.

Usually, that means one of two things -- they're praising you for a job well-done, or they're telling you that you got something wrong.

It's the latter. Two mistakes that shouldn't have made it into print did -- one was a misunderstanding from the interview, one a clarification that got inserted in the editing process that wasn't checked out in time. Either way, such things are unacceptable, because 98 percent right isn't good enough in journalism. We have to strive for 100 percent accuracy 100 percent of the time. NASCAR driver (and now TV commentator) Darrell Waltrip used to say "I don't care what you write about me, as long as you spell my name right." In other words, the facts have to be perfect because that's what is important to our source.

Needless to say, I sent the corrections to our editor, immediately identified the problem and set out to make sure it didn't happen again. But having to write a correction ruined my morning, knowing that I had an imperfect story get through a pretty ironclad editing process and into print. I feel like I've let my editors, my colleagues and my publication down, as they have entrusted me with the opportunity to uphold their high journalistic standards, and I didn't do that.

Our young high school journalists have to understand the same. Whether you're a 14-year-old freshman working on your first published story or a 75-year-old grizzled veteran who has written thousands of published stories, the zeal for the truth and 100 percent accuracy is important. Any slip-ups, no matter how minor, are grave to your credibility with your readers and your sources. And if you mess up on that front, make it right with a correction and come up with a plan to make sure it doesn't happen again. It doesn't have to ruin one's day, but there has to be a consequence -- whether brought on by you the adviser or internally -- for mistakes.

In journalism, only 100 percent is passing, 99 percent is a failing grade.

Time to admit something

... I have writer's block.

A really, really, really severe case.

I've spent much of the week starting two stories, pulling together a couple of others and putting the finishing touches on our Page 3 centerpiece, which will be running in Monday's IBJ.

And when you write, edit, write, edit, tinker, interview, tinker, refine and keep writing, you hit a wall.

Everyone goes through it. I often tell my students to "start with the middle of the story" and then go back and write the lede. I've done that -- to the point where my story has a smattering of random notes, quotes, orphaned paragraphs and offshoots for where I want to go with this masterpiece.

I've tried to read -- everything from stories from our publication to stories from other publications -- just to try to make it work.


When all is said and done, the story will get done. It'll be printed and it's got enough good material that I hope I can tell the story well.

And that's probably why I'm sitting here with writer's block. Daily journalism, which was my M.O. for years, is a lot of what I call "three sources and the truth" stories. They involve quick stories. Pull together three key sources, report and write. Two of those were previously posted on the blog -- one of them done from start-to-finish in about two hours, which included about 15 phone calls. Both were among the top 10 most-read stories in their respective weeks according to our web data. Those stories are the bread-and-butter of journalism, but a weekly business publication like the IBJ requires more in-depth stories, more sources, more research -- essentially, better journalism.

That's exactly the "spread-your-wings" challenge I was looking for when I arrived here a month ago.

But when you're not quite used to such journalism, you tend to overwrite. You want to make it so perfect, you tend to cram. The drive for perfection leads to ... well, it leads to writer's block. To stories that are fragments of notes. To a lot of frayed ends with an abstract sense of direction. To a lot of sentence fragments that nobody will notice. As I coach others to do, I'll step away, read something else, write a few mid-story paragraphs, look at it with fresh eyes and then eventually pull it together. Writing a blog post certainly helps. Either that, or it will postpone the inevitable :).

Incorporating multimedia

Journalism in 2011 is a lot different than journalism in 2009. Our industry is still trying to harness the power of multimedia. Television stations naturally have an advantage in this arena, as it's easier to add a written-word component to a TV site than it is to train us ink-stained types to do video & audio. However, those things -- podcasts, embedded video -- can enhance our work.

It can be as simple as sending your reporters out with Flip cameras to record their interviews or cover an event or as elaborate as recording a 30-minute podcast.

The IBJ does a pretty good job of this, with a regular series called "Leading Lines," where multimedia producer/reporter Mason King talks with different leaders about leadership. I got a chance to go in with Mason on an interview with Pacers head coach Frank Vogel, helping set up lights, check camera angles and watch the interview take place. This came from a one-hour process of setup, interview and tear down. About 30-45 minutes of interview was torn down into three short videos from the Pacers coach. Despite my best efforts to do anything possible to stay out of the camera shot, I show up here as Vogel demonstrates the basketball-spinning skill that he once displayed on Late Night with David Letterman. He spun a basketball on the end of a pen while writing the word "win." I'm holding the notebook.

Here's the link to the interview with videos.

The value of in-person editing

As a journalism student back in the days before I started popping gray hairs, I used to dread “editing.” I had just crafted a masterpiece. I was certain the Pulitzer committee was going to laud my latest work on intramural volleyball or the college women’s soccer team.

And then, I sat next to someone older and wiser than I and watched my story be torn to bits. The stories would be full of Associated Press Style mistakes. Being masterpieces, they would be fitted with some strangely awkward sentence constructions, which caused their demise. And the passive voice constructions which were paramount in my stories was very noticeable.

Of course, they weren’t noticeable when I wrote it. Nor were they the 20 times I read it.

But very quickly, my AP style mistakes were corrected right before my eyes. We smoothed out the awkward sentence constructions and rid ourselves of passive voice.

They were very painful. To my 19-year-old self, it felt like my handiwork was being mercilessly ripped to shreds by some ruthless, cold, heartless heathen making two bucks an hour.

However, it was very valuable. I learned more about how to write good, clean, tight stories from those editing sessions, and ever since, I’ve believed very strongly in editing stories with your staff. Early in the year, I require my page editors to do just that, often with myself in tow.

It’s painful. We’re teaching young journalists how to learn the craft, how to write and how to create a voice. I tell my students that every editing mark, every comment on a story is meant to be constructive and build them up. It’s to help them become better writers, better reporters and better journalists. In one of my first instances, a budding editorial writer put together her first column. It was a screed that had little context to back up the points the writer was making. It had some good ideas, but wasn’t focused and didn’t back up the points the writer was trying to make.

As our editorial team – with myself joining them – calmly pointed these things out in the edits, the writer nodded and agreed with us. And I looked up and saw tears rolling down the writer’s face. The process was painful – but with a happy ending. The writer focused the column, backed up the fewer points that were being made and put together a great column. That writer became our go-to columnist the rest of the year.

Yesterday, the shoe was on the other foot. For the first time since those college days, I was sitting in the chair next to the editor, watching my finely crafted work torn to shreds.

OK, it wasn’t finely crafted. It was terrible – full of awkward transitions, needless quotes, redundancies and, quite frankly, too many words. It was the first story I had attempted to write since coming to the IBJ four weeks ago – a business feature that is slotted for next week’s publication. It had gone through about 20 drafts and revisions as I tried to fix, hone, craft and re-work the story into a masterpiece. Instead, I subconsciously thought “I’m in the big leagues now, I have to write a masterpiece.” So I overwrote and instead of impressing everyone, I impressed nobody. That’s often what happens when you try to overwrite Those things happen whether they be using too many big words and overexplaining things, masking overt opinions as analysis or other common mistakes students make when they know their friends are going to see their work.

Despite all of those drafts and revisions, I didn’t see all of the story’s problems – the passive voice, the awkward constructions, the awful transitions, the redundancies and repetitiveness. That is, until I sat down with an editor and we went through the story line-by-line. We tightened things up, rewrote several paragraphs, reworked the lede, turned passive into active voice and suddenly, I was doing the editing. I was telling the editor all of the problems and mistakes that I saw.

The result turned into a much better, cleaner, tighter story that I hope is worthy to be published in a publication of the IBJ’s caliber. And it helped me see some of the problems in my other stories, so they too can be better, cleaner and tighter.

Sitting next to someone with fresh eyes sometimes does wonders for your ability to see your own work in a different light. It’s an important part of the editing – and educational – process. Edit stories with your writers at first, and train (and require) your editors to do the same.

Great experiences

"Hey, Paul, remember when you were with the Beatles?" 
"Yeah."
(long pause)
"That was awesome." 

I first saw that comedic exchange between the late Chris Farley and Paul McCartney when I was a student journalist, banging away 150-word (if I was lucky) stories for the Pike High School student newspaper and pining to be the next Grantland Rice.

OK, I would've settled for being the next Bob Collins, but you get the point.

(and if you're in high school and trying to figure out who the heck Chris Farley, Paul McCartney and Bob Collins are ... use your research skill :) ). 

Back then, I was hacking out short stories on the high school football team, complete with quotes (which, of course, usually got whacked for space) from the coach ... all the while, I wished, hoped, dreamed to be the guy covering an NFL team. However, like a lot of high school journalists, I probably would've sounded a lot like Chris Farley if given the chance -- star-struck and not able to formulate a really good question or line of questions to get the story right.

Fast forward a couple of decades. One of the great things about this craft is the number of things one gets to experience. It's something some of us get desensitized to pretty quickly, because we realize we're doing jobs first.

I can remember standing in the Colts' locker room several years back, waiting for one of the players to emerge so we could get some info for a preview story. One of the television reporters in the room noted there had been a long line -- stretching into hours -- of people wanting to meet Peyton Manning. Here we were, steps away from his locker, getting ready to talk to a guy we saw all the time and had built a professional relationship with. The key is "professional." If you step back and realize you're one-on-one with celebrity, you lose the objectivity to do your job properly.

In three weeks at the IBJ, I've sat at a table in Broad Ripple with owners of a start-up business that has essentially gone, in the lingo of the day, "viral." I've talked with nationally-known comedians, university presidents, heads of major state and federal government departments, professional basketball coaches. I've done stories on major projects, start-up businesses and even the weather.

But the key is, you approach every subject as important. An interview with Peyton Manning is no more important than an interview with the nose tackle of your high school's football team. An interview with a university president conveys some of the same concerns as an interview with a high school guidance counselor. Why? It's the story that matters. We are in the job of information-gathering, and your sources are places for information. The key is to be professional and treat every relationship -- whether it be perceived by the public as a celebrity or it's someone that you're introducing to the public for the first time -- as an important one.


Not only does that avoid Chris Farley syndrome, it also avoids the ability for well-heeled sources to feel like they can control the story. It puts you on even ground. If you show a sign of intimidation or weakness, it'll show. Making sure to maintain the same level of professionalism and diligence for a story on the school's International Club or an exchange student also enhances your reputation and credibility.

But most of all, enjoy what you're doing. It's kind of hard to realize while you're holding a notebook for Pacers coach Frank Vogel to do some on-camera wizardry (I'll post the link when it gets done next week) that being a journalist affords you some pretty cool experiences, but this is a great profession. Enjoy every moment of it, whether your journalistic days end when you walk across the stage in high school or when you become an octogenarian.

Another new story

I love writing on deadline. This story was interesting because I was contacting several outside businesses -- whose workers were, of course, working outside. Therefore, it was pretty difficult to get in touch with sources for a story that was filed two hours after I began working on it.

Yes, it's hot in Indianapolis. Read the story here.

New story

I've been juggling a lot of stories in the last week, but one of my first efforts has been published online.

IBJ: Downtown garden growing more than food

It's the lead story on the IBJ online edition today. It doesn't matter if you've had one story published or thousands, there's a real sense of satisfaction in seeing your handiwork completed to fruition and seeing it printed (even if done so virtually). There's also a sense of satisfaction in seeing others read your product.

As advisers, we need to make sure we keep nurturing that sense of satisfaction in our students. Celebrate their work, and let them enjoy that moment.

The production process

Tomorrow is deadline day -- e.g., production day -- for our weekly print product. My neighbors have feverishly been reporting and putting the finishing touches on their stories, while I've been editing them.

Like a lot of publications, there are multiple mini-deadlines within the deadline. Non-timely pages get sent first -- some as early as today. Each page goes through about five sets of eyes before it gets sent to make sure there are no mistakes.

I was pressed into service as a copy editor today, being about the fifth set of eyes. By that point, you're checking for AP style errors (my students are rolling their eyes right now, I'm sure), small mistakes and inconsistencies in print, checking headlines to make sure they fit and also finding ways to cut lines if a story is a few lines over.

On our student publication, we're often guilty of "little mistakes." I'm sure every publication is guilty of the same -- bad folio dates, incorrect page numbers, XXXes where photo credits should be, missing captions, missing credits, stories being chopped off. They come in the "wait-til-the-last-minute" deadline frenzy because everyone is just trying to get the paper out. It's the little mistakes that we don't think about until we see them in print, and my students joke that they see me pop another gray hair.

The IBJ has a nice little checklist that we all could incorporate. Before any page is sent, an editor must doublecheck the folios, page numbers, headlines, jump lines, graphic credits, photo credits, bylines and make sure there aren't any major conflicts with ads that might be embarrassing (or appear to compromise journalistic integrity) later. Not only that, but each one must be signed off on by the editor.

If we have a mistake in the Crimson Messenger, it's pretty easy to point fingers. If there's a page checklist, someone -- an editor, for example -- has signed off on the page. Therefore, there's accountability and responsibility in getting it perfect.

Remember, in journalism, being 95 percent correct is not an A. It's an F. Our credibility is the No. 1 thing we have, and those smal mindless mistakes can ruin our credibility. Students are naturally wary of paperwork -- especially the creative students we tend to have in our classes. But small checklinsts and pieces of quality control are vital to making sure we maintain accountability and perection, which helps us maintain our credibility.

Looking to the future

In my week as a business reporter, I've, naturally, been speaking with a lot of successful entrepreneurs about how they've started and grown their businesses.

Two words keep coming back to me when they discuss their growth: "social media."

Those two words provide two emotions for any journalist -- or anyone who is preparing future journalists. Of course, that's what we do as publications advisers.

One of them is fear. Let's be honest -- as journalists, we are in the information business. But news is not made for free, and advertising is -- and always has been -- the backbone of journalism. What each one of these businesspeople has said is that Facebook, Twitter, their blogs and email lists have allowed them to bypass traditional media advertising and connect directly with their customers. When one looks at things from a pure dollars and cents standpoint, that provides a bit of a problem. Who is going to fund media if our advertisers are bypassing us to go directly to their potential audience?

That means one thing -- the business model of producing journalism is rapidly changing.

Very rapidly.

I'm not 100 percent sure how that is going to be changed, although my publication -- the Indianapolis Business Journal -- is on a pretty good path that high school publications can follow, mixing a daily online publication (which has a mix of free and premium content) with a paid-for weekly print publication (whose stories are also online, behind a paywall). While I'm not advcating pay-for-print in a high school publication -- we are a training ground, after all -- the idea of mixing online and print is a strong one. Tablet PCs and their associated apps will also provide more ways to produce fees directly from the users.


However, here is the opportunity to be gleaned from the increased emphasis on social media -- the ability to interact directly with our readers. As journalists, we are experts at providing content, and we also are experts on our particular areas of coverage. That's why it's important, as high school publications, to cover our buildings and our communities as completely as possible -- and not focus so much on stories in which we can't really do any original reporting. In other words, we need to get away from the tendency to recycle/rehash national and international stories, as some high school journalists often want to do.

We need to be the authorities on our subjects, and Facebook/Twitter/email lists allow us to connect with our readers on a par with others. So many of our potential readers have Facebook and Twitter accounts, and if a story shows up in their news feed, they'll be likely to read it -- no matter whether it comes from a professional or a student publication, so we have the ability to get our work in front of many, many more eyeballs than just the students and faculty members who read the paper on publication day. They allow us to stay on top of news -- and also to break news as it happens within our communities. They allow us to be *the* sources in our communities, and develop a rapport with readers. Having social media experience also allows your students to gain valuable experience that will send them to college on a good footing -- whether or not they plan to pursue a journalism career.

The lesson? Use social media. Create an online edition. Your primary audience has smartphones, tablet PCs and social media feeds on their person nearly constantly. It's a way to provide visibility, allow your reporters to develop online personalities and develop an instant feedback rapport with readers that will enhance their credibility as experts on their subjects.

That's going to be a major emphasis of mine as I head back to New Palestine next month to begin another year with the Crimson Messenger and Avalon, our two student publications. I hope you can help cultivate it, too.

One week down

One of the great things about this IHSPA program is the fact that I get to go through a lot of new experiences.

I teach in a suburban school. I live in a suburban community. I grew up in the burbs. Back in my days as a full-time journalist, I spent nearly all of my career at a suburban newspaper.

Needless to say, the trappings of suburban life have pretty much been my experience through most of my years on Earth.

When I've crossed Carroll Road into Indianapolis, I've also been used to being "the little guy" at big events.

So, it's been a little bit of a culture shock for me.

I've had a handful of profile-type stories assigned to me this week, and one event. One major urban trend that I've heard about, read about but not really experienced is the local food/urban gardening movement. There just isn't a lot of emphasis on either in suburban culture. This week, I've worked on two completely different stories that tie back to the same topic. I suddenly know more about a topic that I had next to no knowledge of four days ago.

One of the most important things for a reporter to do is to break out of the myopic mold of seeing things the way they are in our own little bubbles and see the world around them. In the classroom, I try to coach my reporters to see this. So many students have their own definitions of what is "news." To some, what they see on the national news is news, but not the big story happening right in front of them. To others, news is only what's going on within their own social circle -- news is what only interests them.

One concept I've tried to push with my students is the idea of news being local (for those whose concept of news comes only from CNN and the national news), and the idea that news isn't just what you care about (for those who don't see the world outside of their social circles).

In a week, I've had to become an expert on something I knew practically nothing about before, had to see something that's not in my own little concept of the world as being a pretty important, trending story just a few miles to the west. In a word, it's broadened my horizons. What is newsworthy is what matters to your readership. And that's a great lesson to take away from this week.

Two days down

It's been two days of hitting the ground running.

I nervously pointed my car westward on Monday morning not quite knowing what was going to lie ahead. There is the usual paperwork filling-out, newsroom chatter, meeting new people and hitting the ground running.

And I had to hit it running. I settled into my new desk, looked up and had several story ideas in my inbox -- mostly profiles of local businesses. It's a good way to get the lay of the land in business journalism. I spent a lot of Monday burning up the phone lines, leaving messages and setting up interviews -- which I began to do today, heading up to Broad Ripple to talk with the founders of a startup company that's everybody's dream -- come up with an idea that people like, get a cult following and then watch it take off and try to keep up.

Then, I came back to the office, transcribed the interview and started writing my lede.

And I wrote it again.

And again.

And finally walked away from my desk, wrote a photo assignment, shuffled it off to Andrea Davis -- my editor -- and asked her to tear them to shreds. In a nice way, of course.

Writer's block never leaves the writer. Neither does the pit of uncertainty in a creative pursuit -- is this good, is it wretched, is it something in-between?

Enough about my tortuous efforts to write for a bigger audience and in a much different style than I've ever written before.

One of the biggest reasons for doing this internship was to be able to glean real-world experiences and bring them back into our student newsroom at New Palestine High School so I can better instruct my students and create as real-world of a publications environment as possible. One of my top priorities for next year was to use our website more for breaking news, multimedia and have our staff do shorter stories and briefs to better cover our building in-between the times the printed paper comes out, and then use more in-depth, timeless stories and folos in the printed Crimson Messenger newspaper (and even more timeless stories in our Avalon yearbook). 


On Day 1, I had a perfect object lesson to take back to my students.

The IBJ is a weekly publication, but the age of Internet journalism has meant there's no such thing as a deadline cycle anymore. While longer, more timeless and in-depth stories go into the paper each week, there is also a digest of daily news, which gets emailed to readers each afternoon and posted online. The IBJ has done a great job of merging its printed product with the online product. Each has its own character, but each complements the other. Print stories are available online, but only to subscribers. The shorter, more timely news stories are freely available to all online. It keeps reader loyalty and contact on a day-to-day basis.

As a story broke Monday afternoon that the city had chosen a bid to demolish the old Keystone Towers high-rise near the Indiana State Fairgrounds, I was tabbed to write the first draft of a brief that would be online within minutes. The staff would follow up with a more in-depth story today. It's precisely what I'm hoping my students will be able to master in the fall. Object lesson #1 just ended up in the hopper.


The one thing that surprised me was the newsroom culture. As I noted earlier, before I began teaching in 2006, I spent nine years working as a reporter for two community dailies in Greencastle and Greenfield -- the last four as the sports editor of the Daily Reporter in Greenfield. In both, we had smallish newsrooms -- five in Greencastle, up to 12 in Greenfield -- who sat pretty close to one another and were always communicating. The newsrooms were very active, busy, noisy places where people were always talking -- either taking a break, chatting about a story, going over an edit, talking about a photo shoot or a graphic, discussing page design -- something. Of course, we were small staffs putting out daily newspapers and we were always on the go -- to a game, to a meeting, to an interview, just to fill the next day's publication.

At the IBJ, it is a very quiet, professional culture. Very little idle chatter crosses the newsroom. Reporters are seemingly constantly working on their own stories within the confines of their cubicles. It is a very productive newsroom, and it shows from the quality of journalism in each week's paper (and on the web daily). However, it was quite a culture shock to me coming from the frenetically-paced small daily newsrooms to one that is so quiet and where the staffers are so directed. At every place I've worked, the staffers are very talented and take a lot of pride in what goes under their bylines. But this staff has a much different way of approaching things.

It's one I'll get used to, without a doubt. It's actually great, because another thing I wanted to get out of this internship was to experience another type of journalism that was very different from what I had experienced working for small community dailies. It gives me another piece for the file cabinet of experiences to take back to New Palestine.

But I think I've made it past writer's block now. I still have this lede to finish.

Introduction

Welcome! Contained on these virtual pages over the next few weeks will be a chronicle of my internship with the Indianapolis Business Journal during the summer of 2011.

I'm very excited to be taking on this role and a new challenge in journalism, and I want to thank Dennis Cripe and Diana Hadley with the Indiana High School Press Association, the Hoosier State Press Association and Andrea Davis with the IBJ for giving me this opportunity.

As the publications adviser at New Palestine High School, I intend to use this experience to spend time back in the "real world" of professional journalism, and use these experiences to better prepare my students for the world of journalism they will enter.

For me, this is a chance to return "home." For nine years, I was a professional journalist, a news/sports reports reporter at two small Indiana dailies and later sports editor at the Daily Reporter in Greenfield. After four years away from print journalism, I returned to the craft in 2010 as the publications adviser at NPHS. In the meantime, I taught history at New Palestine and did some freelance writing and broadcasting in my spare time.

As a small-town journalist, I did virtually everything, so this is an opportunity for me to see a different side of the craft, and also to see how much the craft has evolved since I left the business (at least on the print side) full-time in 2006. At that time, Internet journalism was an emerging phenomenon, social media hadn't come to dominate newsgathering and dissemination as much as it has done now, and newspaper staffs were significantly larger. Today's journalism is significantly different, and I hope to experience that and take those experiences back to my students this fall.

This is an exciting opportunity. I'm looking forward to the journey, and also looking forward to sharing it with you!