No. 14 for March 2003
The lead
of the lead in the lead
Savor the first five words.
I’ve been reading a lot of leads as I judge contests, and it seems the best writers pay careful attention not just to the first couple paragraphs, but also to the first five or six words.
I call it putting “the lede of the lede in the lede.”
It was essayist Joan Didion who said: “What’s so hard about that first sentence is that you’re stuck with it. Everything else is going to flow out of that sentence. And by the time you’ve laid down the first two sentences, your options are all gone.”
Pulitzer Prize winner Jon Franklin says we should view leads as transitions to ease us into the story from whatever else we are doing.
That’s important in these harried times. And especially in the modified inverted pyramid making a comeback on the Web, the first few words of the first sentence define our story and may be crucial to get readers to spend precious time with us.
We’ve seen this type of lead: XYZ Insurance said Tuesday it will raise rates for South Carolina drivers by 8 percent effective Jan. 1.
It’s to the point. But does it miss the point? The first words tell me the story is about XYZ. But unless I own XYZ shares, am I likely to turn to my significant other and say, “Hey, did you see XYZ is raising rates?”
I’m more likely to say, “Our insurance is going up again, that dang XYZ.”
“Our insurance”: Our readers define the story as about them. If we want to keep them reading, why not reconsider and write: South Carolina drivers with XYZ Insurance policies will see rates rise 8 percent on Jan. 1, the company said Tuesday.
Or: Rates for South Carolina drivers with XYZ Insurance policies will increase 8 percent Jan. 1, the company said Tuesday.
That’s one word longer, but the first five words now define the story as about me, the reader. If one word helps keep a reader, it seems a small cost.
Two more recent leads:
The results of a USC-conducted study indicate that domestic-violence courts increase victim safety and offender accountability.
The Supreme Court said Tuesday a Texas death row inmate – who came within a week of being put to death – had unfairly been denied a chance to present federal courts with evidence of racial bias in the jury selection for his trial.
Is that first story really about “The results of a USC-conducted study”?
Victim safety and making criminals accountable is the real story for many people. So: Victim safety increases with domestic-violence courts, and offenders are held more accountable, a USC study indicates. It’s the same number of words.
In the second case, is the Supreme Court or the death row inmate more important? In some cases with long, widespread publicity or extraordinary national ramifications, the nation’s highest court weighing in might be the defining moment. Abortion cases come to mind, or the Pentagon Papers.
But here I’d argue that the inmate, and that he came within a week of dying, is what most people would talk about. So recast (and get rid of the ugly dashes): A Texas death row inmate who came within a week of being put to death was unfairly denied a chance to present federal courts with evidence of racial bias in the jury selection for his trial, the Supreme Court said Tuesday. (It’s also a word shorter and would be even shorter if “executed” were substituted for “put to death.”)
Some editors object to the attribution at the end, often reflecting journalism’s fixation on the actor, not the result. But for many of our time-starved readers, results are what count.
If nothing else, consider it as a coaching tool. Get the writer to tell you what the story is about in five or six words. Gently challenge and guide that process. It helps the writer define the story and can help get past the “lead block” we’ve all been through.
Two other good coaching tools I often use are “close your eyes and tell me what you see” and “sing me the story to tune of ‘The Beverly Hillbillies.’” (Let me tell you a story about Supreme Court justice/who peppered lawyers with questions during a hearing today. ... Hey, it’s corny, but it works.)
Finally, consider the first five words last.
If we focus on the first five, we’re liable to fixate and neglect the rest of the story, producing the classic muddled middle. So when necessary, forget the lead. Just write. Come back to it later. Then ask yourself, do the first words of this story really tell me, as a reader, what it’s about?
In other words, savor those first five words.
Doug Fisher, a former AP news editor, teaches journalism at the University of South Carolina and can be reached at dfisher@sc.edu or 803-777-3315.