
Nonfiction books let reporters escape today's cost and space-cutting journalism world. As "dead tree" news becomes an endangered species, topical books are more important than ever to a growing audience. But aspiring authors must learn how to craft compelling stories that remain fresh years after newspaper deadlines, and settle for personal -- not financial -- satisfaction.
Leading writers and publishers reiterated those points on Oct. 29 at
a Boston University conference considering whether books represent journalism's "last best home."
Considering the "incredible shrinking paper and news hole," they may indeed be, said
Fox Butterfield, who won a Pulitzer Prize at
The New York Times before turning to authorship. As thinner papers and magazines trim story length and budgets,
Times labor and workplace reporter Steven Greenhouse noted the pleasure in books detailing the "incredible stories" that get only a few paragraphs in daily pieces. (In his case, with "The Big Squeeze: Tough Times for the American Worker.") He called books a good way for journalists to create their brand amid the industry's buyouts and "push outs."
Linda Robinson expanded on that theme. Young journalists face "scary times ahead," said the veteran
U.S. News & World Report writer, whose latest book is "Tell Me How This Ends: General David Petraeus and the Search for a Way Out of Iraq." So they should consider using "multiple lily pads: think tanks, journalism teaching and free-lancing" as well as book authorship. Calling herself "very pessimistic about our profession," she said, "We have to look for different ways to do the good work."
Times reporter Charlie Savage, who won
a 2007 Pulitzer Prize for his Boston Globe series on the Bush Administration's sweeping expansion of executive power, made a point other speakers echoed: Important books depend on expertise gained in daily journalism.
Crediting the
Globe's resources for letting him probe the complicated subject, he wondered "who knows what books won't be written" because finances won't support the kind of intensive reporting needed to master a subject.
He said his research for "Takeover: The Return of the Imperial Presidency and the Subversion of American Democracy" benefited from other reporters' in-depth investigations. "It was almost a team effort to understand the Bush administration, to uncover the tips of the iceberg."
Ron Suskind, one of those Savage credited, has written three bestsellers on politics and international affairs. Lamenting the "time of havoc" in journalism, he said, "Papers are under siege."
In 1994, he recalled,
The Wall Street Journal let him write two 5,000-word stories about an ordinary inner city boy, which earned him
a 1995 Pulitzer Prize and developed into his first book, "A Hope in the Unseen."
Things have changed since then. Other speakers noted that even leading papers and magazines now assign shorter stories and are less willing to grant unpaid leave time to write books.
So Suskind said journalists need "new ingenuity" to satisfy "people desperate for narratives with context. The world is full of these stories and the audience hungers for them ... As a profession, we're in a seminal struggle for the core of what makes us ... we're not just in the link sausage business ... Someone will figure out a way to be paid for good journalism."
Paid more in satisfaction than cash, others noted.
Mitch Zuckoff, a former
Globe reporter who now teaches at Boston University and is completing his fourth book, said that although authorship "simply can't be for the money," it's "the opportunity of a writer's life."
Amid all the doom and gloom talk about the news business, Zuckoff advised, "Let"s just take a breath. Lots of very exciting things will meet the financial needs of investigative journalists."
Zuckoff, whose first book, "
Choosing Naia: A Family's Journey," emanated from his
Globe series, agreed with two top editors that reporters turned authors can't just write longer; they have to come at their subject in a new way.
"Think of every story for its maximum potential" and before you start a book, be a student of the market, he advised, because with 150,000 books published a year, "there's not enough oxygen for all of them to breathe."
Martin Beiser, senior editor of publisher
Free Press after a long career as a
GQ magazine editor, called it a very difficult leap for some short form journalists. "Your voice has to come through."
Peter Osnos, a former
Washington Post correspondent and editor who founded
PublicAffairs Books, also disputed what he called the common assumption that reporters can easily switch into book writing. "You have to learn it the hard way."
He and others pointed out that the amount of a book's advance is deceptive. Osnos said a $100,000 advance equals a minimum wage after expenses and two years of work.
But consider the upside, he advised. "Journalists have the sense that they're victims. You're not a victim as an author. Think of it as entrepreneurship and say 'these words are mine.' "