Things Not to Say to a Reporter: The Response

When I wrote my original post, it wasn't aimed at PIO's or PR people directly, but since the bulk of those comments are made by people who wear those hats, I see why it elicited responses like, "if you're looking for a reason to dislike the media, she provides it."

But that misses the whole point.

I didn't write that post to be adversarial. I wrote it because it's frustrating to hear those things. It's also unnecessary to say them. There are far better ways to get the media off your jock or to tell us something without really telling us something. And it doesn't start with being condescending, rude, standoffish or unavailable. Bullying, intimidation, threats, and long-winded bloviating are also poor tactics. 

Do I think I know everything about the PIO/PR job and how best to do it? Nope. But I do know good a good PR person is worth more than her weight in platinum. And I'm an expert in bad PR moves.

But the number of "Right on, Sister!" responses from people on the media side, the PR side, and in some cases--people who've worked on both sides--gives me confidence my post went beyond touching a nerve. It straight up molested one.

PIO's are "public information officers." Translation: they provide information to the public. One of the most effective ways of doing that is through the media. Surprise!

"Public Relations" professionals are hired to "relate to the public." See how that works?

Be smart enough to be nice, to be personable, to be human, and guess what, the reporters you work with will at least respect you. They may not agree and they may still press for answers, because that's their job. Do yours. Say what you can say, be helpful, be honest, and provide what you can. We understand you're the messenger, and the gatekeeper, and the filter. Your job is to make us walk away without feeling like you're a liar and stonewaller.

If you have to spin, learn to spin skillfully and kindly. I can always recognize a non-answer answer but I won't despise you for doing your job if you're not a jerkwad about it.

It's as simple as, "I really do want to tell you more about this but our chair/chief/boss/CEO is not talking right now. If and when that changes, I will let you know." Of course, that only works if you mean it.

"I'm not the right person to talk to but X is. If you have trouble there, call me back and I will see if there's someone else who can help you." And actually answer your phone and try to direct us to the right person.

"We are doing everything we can to get some answers but for now, this statement is all that I can provide ____________________."

"You know, we're not going on camera, but send me the questions you have and I will get you the information you need."

That last approach is one of the best, because it allows me to report the facts and statements to represent your side, and you don't have to worry about going on camera and being edited to death. I know that's a huge issue and some reporters absolutely take things out of context and your 10 minute interview becomes a 10 second soundbite that totally missed the point. I hate when "The Media" does that too.

And YES, there are idiotic, dumb, horrible reporters out there who taint the profession, but don't base your every interaction with "The Media" on those bad peppercorns. Treat reporters individually, and realize you wield the power to punish the reporters who burn you. Karma can be a beyotch but strive for good karma. Develop a positive relationship with the press because, face it, YOU ARE PAID TO DEAL WITH US. That's why they call you the PRESS CONTACT and your name and number are at the top of the press release.

The often utilized "Ignore and Avoid" technique may work for the short term, but long term, not so much. Why bother? It's like you're a customer service representative who hates customers. Isn't there a better 'work from home opportunity' for you?

The relationship should be symbiotic. We don't have to be BFFs. I will take a frenemy. But I want an effective, direct, deadline-savvy frenemy. Plus, when you have that weekend BBQ fundraiser or that ribbon cutting or that "Look we donated to the community" story, your goodwill just might get you a VO (you know, 30 seconds in the newscast with your smiling boss getting good press.) The backscratching possibilities are endless.

And I try to do my part. I've written several detailed complimentary notes to management, particularly after extremely difficult stories, where the PIO or PR person was UH-mazing. And I slather on the praise when it is deserved. Because those platinum heavyweights should be recognized and commended for doing their jobs well and representing their agencies gracefully. I know it sucks to be the messenger when something bad happens, but when you do it to the best of your ability, honestly and intelligently, it shows. And you gain the respect and appreciation of the reporters you work with.

**As for regular folk who say, "No comment," may the spirit be with you. If you're a civilian and you don't want to talk to the press, you absolutely don't have to. And anyone who's a jerk to you for not commenting on something horrible that has happened to you is just that: a jerk. I don't blame the regular person for not wanting to speak to reporters. It's always nice if people can be human and not totally rude about it, but they're not held to any professional standards. They can ignore, avoid, slam doors, hang up the phone, anything short of physical assault and it's kosher. You don't owe The Media anything. 

However, if you accept a paycheck to deal with the media, and my post made you "dislike the media," re-assess your approach. You'll find honey goes much further than vinegar.

Likewise, if there's a "Things Reporters Really Suck At and Shouldn't Do List" that you want to share in the comments or if you want to call out the media for bad behavior, by all means. I would love to know what peeves you because I know "The Media" has many of its own shortcomings. 

Emmy Awards

I've been in DVD dubbing hell for the past 48 hours.

The kind and generous Mark V. who will soon be the owner of a nice selection of fine lagers has been shepherding me through the hell and highwater, rowing our flaming canoe through streams of interlacing and de-interlacing lava, only to arrive at the hot rocks of rendering, followed by the purgatory of cutting and pasting entry forms on to plastic DVD cases like it's arts and crafts time up in here. As my colleague and fellow entrant Garvin Thomas so aptly put it.

How nice if we could just upload our entries. Judges could click on the links and watch on their computers, whenever the mood struck. Imagine, Emmy judging in your bathroom, using your iPad! Hugely convenient and only very gross a little distracting.

But alas, if this is what it takes to usher in one of the pointy, shiny, winged statuettes into my possession, then burn, baby, burn. As in DVD burn. About as fun as watching a Final Cut Pro project convert into a .mov file. As in not fun at all.

Almost as not fun as doing all this work and then not getting nominated. Or, as has been my case, getting nominated, getting dressed up, getting in the car and driving to San Fran, getting your car valet parked by God knows who who does God knows what with your Prius, and getting to say, "Well, it certainly was an honor to be nominated."

Emmy awards, as you may already suspect, are subjectively doled out, and luck and circumstance play a giant role in the whole judging process. Are you first in the pack to be watched? Are you last? Is your judge a novice or a veteran of the business? Are they in a good mood or are they dead tired after a long week of working and now they're in a room eating cold pizza and marking down your scores with other similarly tired people who thought it would be a good idea to judge Emmy entries but now realize there are still 27 DVDs to watch and it's already beer-thirty on a Friday.

I have judged Emmys a couple times. Once 11 years ago when I was an intern for KTVU. And once a few years ago when I first arrived at NBC and our station Emmy coordinator sent me home with a box of DVDs from a mid size news market, maybe Santa Fe or perhaps somewhere in Texas. You're supposed to judge the entries against the Emmy standard, not against the other entries in the category. Technically, you could have 5 winners in one category, if they are all excellent and they all satisfy the Emmy criteria in content, creativity, and execution. But human nature being what it is, judges end up judging the entries against each other and typically you only have one, sometimes two winners.

It's anything but scientific or exact. The year I judged the entries for the mid market, I was at home watching the DVDs with The Good Doctor, who wandered in and out sprinkling in his 2 cents in between bites of bagel dog. Some stories were clearly excellent and made you think, "Wow, how did you hike up that mountain with a photographer and a pug?" Or, "That's a sweet story about the Down syndrome couple that got married in their small town." Others were more ordinary, good but not knock your socks off terrific. But I gave pretty generous scores because I don't know, I suppose I'm a generous person, and I try to stick to the idea that the Emmys are not about who is the best in that pool of entries, but does each entry meet the Emmy standard. 

When I judged for the first time, I was an intern and I showed up because the flyers promised "free pizza for Emmy judging." Interns never pass up free food. I was supremely underqualified to judge. 21 years old with no experience shooting, writing, editing, or working in the field of journalism. I was however, an excellent pizza eater, and a warm body who could count to 10 and write down a number on a score card. My uneducated, unqualified self helped decide who got an Emmy and who got totally wasted and cried into their beer that night. Which is quite often one in the same. You'd be surprised which of your favorite anchors, reporters and meteorologists could hold it down with Charlie Sheen.

In any case, it's done. Now begins the long wait until nominations are announced in May. Then the next wait until the awards night in June. It's such an emotional roller coaster. You totally want to win, but you also know it's partly a total crap shoot because the person judging you might hate youngish Asian reporters or they might be a pizza munching intern who thinks you're hot. I just would really, really like to win ONE Emmy other than the adorable one I pushed out of my lady flower. I don't need to be Wayne Freedman, who has 45 Emmys. At least. And who, as I learned from Wikipedia, is also known as "Wizzle-Head."

As Garvin, who is the proud recipient of at least four Emmys, put it: "You need good stuff to win, but good stuff doesn't always win."

And sadly, even when you're in it to Nguyen it, you don't. Wish me luck.

Things Not to Say/Do in a TV Interview

"Like I said."

"Again."

"As I said before."

Appear as though you need another double espresso to operate among the living.

Exude nervousness.

Repeat yourself repeatedly.

Speak in long run-on sentences. OTPS. One Thought Per Sentence. Keep it simple if you think you might veer off track. If you're good at bloviating and you look hot doing it, by all means.

Appear emotionless.

Think you're being overly energetic. TV adds 10 pounds. It takes away 90% of your perceived energy level.

Act controlled and non-spontaneous.

Continue your thought if you've clearly gotten off message. Just start over. We shoot on digital media. It's cheap. Exception: a live interview. If that's the case, keep going as if your life depended on it.

Not know what you're talking about.

Say "I don't have that information right now." It's now or never.

Make wisecracks. Sarcasm doesn't speed anything up.

Be vague. Specifics impress.

Act like you're too busy to talk, but then spend 10 minutes talking about why you're too busy to talk. We could've done the entire interview in that time.

Things You Only Do as a Reporter

Wait in the drizzly darkness for 3 hours hoping a feral cat will walk into a tuna-filled trap. And pray you get it on camera.

Converse with toothless people about the race for governor. A conversation that usually goes on about 4 minutes longer than necessary when what you really wanted to do is use the bathroom.

Stand in the freezing cold waiting for someone who is "authorized" to answer basic questions about the explosion/drowning/fire/crash/flood/shooting/ stabbing/kidnapping/power outage.

Nod your head yes to producer fantasy scenarios.

Consult someone about photos of a shark bite survivor's ass and back taken right after the attack. Apparently the images are definitely too graphic for TV if you can see the person's yellow lipid layer and the rest of the photo looks like it could be a picture of the butcher counter at Safeway.

Get called "The fucking media" from Any Street Corner USA.

Lug your photog's tripod for a mile and half down the streets of Richmond at night, following a group of do-gooders.

Use the word do-gooders.

Understand sarcasm is a dish best served always.

Interrupt people constantly.

Get excited when someone offers your first big break in the biz: $28,000 to drive yourself around and shoot, write, and edit two packages a day. Starting at 3AM with Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. Yay!

PR vs TV

There's a journalism purging going on these days. You know who I'm talking 'bout. Journalists fleeing like boat people to corporations, private companies, guv'ment jobs. They're leaving print and broadcast in droves, in search of a better life out West.

Any place where they no longer have to hear about becoming a "Swiss Army knife" or "jack of all trades" who has to "do more with less" and "adapt" and "converge" and "work more for the same pay." Who wants to do any of that when you can work Monday-Friday, eat a lunch that's not balanced on your lap in a live truck, and enjoy both Thanksgiving AND Christmas off? Journalists usually have to choose one or the other because in case you haven't noticed, there's about 10 of us left per newsroom. And that's in the major markets.

Many of my friends and former colleagues have landed squarely on two feet, working for Yahoo, Gap, Cisco, Comerica Bank, private institutions of higher learning. Places where people have offices and windows to the outside world.

I recently spoke at a 'lunch and learn' event at Edelman, a PR firm that represents mega companies like Merck, eBay, and United Airlines. I went over the basics of how things work for me in TV news and what someone should do if they want to get my attention. Besides running behind my live shot naked. That seems to be frowned upon in most circles. 

I noticed key things that helped me better understand why people leave journalism and go into PR. Things like a smiling receptionist and candy bowl in the lobby. Things like good pay and benefits. Things like entire rooms dedicated to the X-Box and "creative thinking." Things like soft couches and natural light. People who look like they're ready to step into a J. Crew ad. People who smile. People who laugh. People who don't look like their eyes are going to roll back into their heads and down their backs because of the ridiculousness of it all.

Just an observation about life post-journalism for some people. I'm sure there are horror stories about those who've left the business and regret it and spend every night curled up under a desk drooling and trembling. And of course, there are some shiny happy people left. Like Frank Somerville.