New York Times
No luck with the last Times Magazine letter. I’m not keeping score anymore. (She says with a huff.)
On the plus side, Self reeeeally wants to make sure they are accurate when they print fawning praise about themselves. I got ANOTHER follow-up email from them yesterday:
Hi there,
I am fact-checking information for the YOURSELF page for Self magazine’s July issue. Please confirm/correct in CAPS and return as soon as you can. Feel free to contact me with any questions.
1. You recently picked up Self while waiting at the dentist.
2. Every tip is on-target, inspiring, and best of all, doable.
3. You nearly swiped the magazine, but instead you took the subscription card.
4. You can’t wait for your first issue.
5. Name/city
Many thanks!
Is it necessary to double check that I was bored waiting for a dentist appointment? I hope the fact-checker is an intern, otherwise Conde Nast has a little too much fat on it’s bones.
The April 26, 2009 New York Times Magazine includes a story by Virginia Heffernan called, “Comment is King: Reader Comments Are A Key Part of Online Journalism. So Why Do They Mostly Disappoint.” I’ve decided to take this article to mean that I am on the cutting edge of the commentary zeitgeist, seeing as I wrote about both Virginia Heffernan and reader comments within the past few weeks.
(By the way, my April 5 letter about Heffernan’s iPhone problem did not get published. That makes Mrs. Dogood - 0, Editors - 4. Grrrr. I’m taking solace in the fact that no one else’s letters about this article were published either.)
Despite her preference for Blackberries, I have to give Heffernan props for pointing out what I see as a major problem with online reader comments: they suck. People are uninformed or they can’t make complete sentences or they’re prejudiced or they’re just plain mean. In theory, I like the idea that everyone is allowed a voice. But in practice, too many voices means that none are heard. It’s like those Malcolm Gladwell-esque experiments they do in supermarkets. Present people with a choice of six flavors of jam and they’re perfectly happy to select their favorite and go buy it. Present people with a choice of 30 flavors of jam and they get brain freeze and leave the store, sans purchase. I don’t have the time or energy to wade through 200 incoherent reader responses to find the three that might really rock my world, or even the world at large. Some are indeed more equal than others; we need editors to find them.
Heffernan does me a great service by giving name to more categories of reader commentary:
- Amens: I agree and THANK YOU for saying what I’ve always known
- Scolding dissent (as opposed to cogent dissent)
- Fact-checking: Long, itemized point by point, deconstructions
- Reiterations: Repeating the points of an article in slightly varied way
These are the comment types that a strong newspaper editor wouldn’t print. Conversely, these are the key letter types that are printed in featurey or specialty magazines. For example, those published in GQ, Shape or Self. (And in those cases, there are at least editors to highlight the letters that are written in complete sentences.) I suppose one way to identify a serious publication from a fluff publication is to count the prevalence of letters published that are Amens, Scolds, Fact-checks, or Reiterations.
Here are two excerpts from the Heffernan article that I’ll be thinking about in the days to come:
This echo-chamber effect is unpleasant, and it makes it hard to keep listening for the clearer, brighter, rarer voices nearly drowned out in the online din. Which is too bad: newspaper journalism benefits from reader comments. Creating registration standards, inventive means of moderating and displaying comments, membership benefits for regular posters and ratings systems for useful comments are just some of the ways that other news outlets like Slate have improved the quality of reader responses.
The pluralistic contention of the 1990s that everyone “deserves a voice” has come to terrifying life in the past 10 years on blogs, message boards and now Twitter. Everyone is published! But please, aim for originality and brevity when you post, and read what has already been posted. For models of the form, Slate’s Fray still can’t be beat (fray.slate.com/discuss).
This is the letter that I sent to the Times Magazine:
Heffernan’s observations are the reason why I read the letters in the New York Times print edition, but not the comments in the online version. When you write to the Times in print, you are required to supply your full name as a way of accountability for your words. But people can, and will, say anything online no matter how vituperative, condescending, or just plain silly, because they are allowed to do so with blind user names and pseudonyms. Requiring writers to properly identify themselves would go a long way to clearing out the clutter in the comments.
I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled lettering in a bit, but I had to digress a moment here about what has to be the ultimate job in letter editing. The NY Times published a story today about Mike Kelleher, Director of the White House Office of Correspondence. This is the place that sorts through the gagillion letters that get sent to the White House and the President every day. Kelleher is the one that chooses the 10 letters from the general public that Obama gets to see every day. THAT is an editorial job I’d like to have.
On March 30, I wrote about a letter to Times in response to an article about Netflix. I think the window for having this published lapsed at least a week ago, so I’m going to have to call this one a DOA.
That makes it: Editors - 3, Mrs. Dogood - 0. This is not a very auspicious start here, but persevere I must.
Several of the letters I did actually get published in the Times, years ago now, were of the fluffy variety like this one. Since I started writing this blog, I’ve been reading the Times letters more closely. The letter now are not fluffy. They are not fun. They are boring serious letters about boring serious issues. I was wondering what happened and then I remembered: it’s the size thing.
I did a little research to refresh my memory. In the summer of 2007 (those halcyon days), the Times reduced the physical size of the paper, making each page an inch and a half narrower. This, as the story goes, reduced the “news hole” of the paper by about five percent. Some of what was sacrificed was space for letters. This was the statement the paper made:
TO OUR READERS, August 6, 2007
Beginning today, we present a bigger sampling of letters online, to make up for the reduced size of the print edition of The Times. The available space for letters in print has been reduced by about a third. Online, we present a bigger sampling of letters on subjects of greatest reader interest. And we will run other letters that were selected for publication but for which there was no room in the print version. All published letters, whether in the printed paper or on The Times’s Web site, may be edited, for accuracy, clarity, grammar, style and tone. And all letters will be archived and become part of The Times’s permanent record. The full daily package of letters, submissions guidelines and previously published notes to readers from Thomas Feyer, the letters editor, can be found at nytimes.com/opinion.
What’s a gal like me, with a goal of publishing letters, supposed to do? Not comment on human interest stories? But that’s my forte, and I assure that no one wants to read my opinion about the mortgage crisis, Iraq, or global warming. So back to the Netflix issue — while the Times, published no letters about this article in it’s print editions, there were 172 comments about the article posted online. Astute followers of Mrs. Dogood (hello all three of you) will remember that one of my primary rules for this blog is:
Letters to the editor will only count as such if there actually is an editor. Posting random comments on a website doesn’t count. There has to be a human reading the letters and making a selective decision about what to publish.
The Times is publishing fewer letters in print; however, they are actually curating the comments posted online. For the Netflix article, most of the comments were fairly incoherent blather, but an editor did pull out 3 comments from the huddled 172 and marked them as “Editor’s Selections.” The Editor’s Selections are described as such, “The NYTimes editors aim to highlight the most interesting and thoughtful comments that represent a range of views.” I’m going to have to mull over whether I want to change my self-imposed guidelines to allow “Editor’s Selections” to count as published letters.
*** UPDATE WITHIN THE UPDATE ****
I was about to hit the “Publish” button to send this post out into the world. I went back to the Times to double check that I transcribed that bit about the Editor’s Selections correctly and what did I see but this article, uploaded to the Times site about an hour ago:
Published: April 16, 2009
In a bid to save millions of dollars in annual costs, The New York Times plans to eliminate several weekly sections, with other parts of the newspaper absorbing some of the content, Bill Keller, the executive editor, said on Thursday. The affected sections include Escapes, published on Fridays, and Sunday sections that only readers in the New York metropolitan area receive: City and regional sections named for New Jersey, Long Island, Westchester and Connecticut.
Those Sunday sections will disappear and The Times will create a new Sunday section combining some elements of them with new features about New York City and the region, and features that formerly appeared in the New York report. Each copy of that section will contain a “zoned” page with material specific to the part of the region where it is sold. The new section, still unnamed, will appear on May 24 at the earliest.
Breaking news from the region will continue to be included in the first section, along with national news. Also, starting May 1, Friday editions will no longer contain an Escapes section. Instead, parts of that section will be absorbed into the Weekend section. Beginning with the issue of May 10, The New York Times Magazine will no longer contain a regular fashion layout; fashion reporting and photography will continue in the T magazines published every few weeks, and in the weekly Sunday and Thursday Styles sections. The guide to each day’s newspaper printed on the second, third and fourth pages of the first section will be consolidated into a single page, much as it was until last year.
In an address to the newsroom three weeks ago, Mr. Keller signaled that some consolidation and belt-tightening were on the way. At that time, the salaries of non-union managers were cut 5 percent for the rest of the year, and members of the Newspaper Guild were asked to accept a similar cut to avoid layoffs.
In a memo to the staff on Thursday, Mr. Keller wrote, “The hope and expectation remain that the pay cuts and the spending cuts outlined above will get us through the year without the need for other significant reductions.” He has said that the paper was cutting its spending on free-lance work by 10 to 15 percent, and the sections being combined or trimmed depend heavily on freelancers. The consolidation will not eliminate any newsroom staff jobs, Mr. Keller said, though some employees will be reassigned to other parts of the paper.
Creating fewer sections can cut printing costs significantly, whether or not it reduces the number of pages or the amount of material printed. The changes being made at The Times will mean fewer pages, saving on newsprint and ink. Even after two years of deep cost-cutting, American newspapers are struggling with a sharp drop in ad revenue this year, forcing a wave of hurried, additional cuts in the last few months. The Times Company recently said that without major concessions from unions at The Boston Globe, it may close that paper.
Ironic timing, no?
And truly, I want to cry upon reading this. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. How do you write letters to the editor of a newspaper when both the editors and the paper are disappearing before your eyes?
The New York Times Magazine is clearly not speaking to the New York Times proper. When I wrote to the Magazine, I got an entirely different auto-reply than when I wrote to the paper.
This is the Magazine auto-reply.
Thank you for your message to The New York Times Magazine letters column. This automatic response is necessary because of the volume of email we receive. The letters editor will read your letter and will write to you if it is chosen to appear in the magazine. We cannot return or respond to unsolicited manuscripts.
Other addresses:
If you have a query about about the “Lives” page, please write to lives@nytimes.com. For William Safire, please write to safireonlanguage@nytimes.com. For Randy Cohen/The Ethicist, please write to ethicist@nytimes.com. For classified ad listings, please write to
nytimes@classifiedsplus.net. For a complete list of departmental e-mail addresses, you may send e-mail to directory@nytimes.com.
Sincerely,
The New York Times
This version is so much less bossy. There’s no “keep to 150 words,” no “we won’t open your attachments,”and no exclusivity warning.
The paper seems like a harried mother - all rules and no patience. The magazine is like your grandma - happy to see you no matter what baggage you’re carrying.
My iPhone competes me. It had me at hello. It makes me want to be a better (wo)man.
Virginia Heffernan wrote in today’s New York Times Magazine, “I Hate My iPhone.” Them’s fightin’ words in my book.
Here’s my letter:
In proclaiming that she hates the iPhone, Virginia Heffernan has uncovered a new addition to the list of quintessential soul-defining dichotomies: Yankees vs. Red Sox, cats vs. dogs, Beatles vs. Stones, iPhone vs. Blackberry. Tell me which you are and I know everything I need to about you. I am an iPhone. Since Heffernan has staked her claim in the Blackberry camp, I can only assume that she also hates rainbows, sleeping babies, world peace, and true love.
‘Nuff said.
Back on March 22, I wrote about a letter to the New York Times travel section about Costa Rica. Today the Times ran a letter about the same article I responded to. This means that my letter is not getting published. So, to begin the running scorecard:
Mrs. Dogood - 0, Editors - 1
The letter they did run, written by Roger Latzgo, can be found HERE.
WHAT I LEARNED:
- I have to say that I agree with the Times‘ choice. Latzgo’s letter gives more valuable information to the traveler. He emphasizes safety and gives specific pricing, while my letter was more light on detailed information. The next time I try a travel letter, I will focus more on practical tips.
- The Times travel section letters have a print periodicity of two weeks - meaning that the letters about an article appear two weeks after the article ran. Other publications, and even other parts of the Times, work on different schedules.
Many publications that receive a high number of letter submissions, acknowledge these submissions with an email auto-reply letter. Here’s the auto-reply I got from the New York Times this week:
Thank you for your letter to The New York Times.
If your letter is selected for publication — in all editions (print and online) or only online — we will contact you within a week. We regret that because of the volume of letters received, we are not able to respond to all submissions, other than by this automated reply.
Here are some guidelines: Letters should be no longer than 150 words and may be shortened to fit allotted space. They must be exclusive to The Times (no prior submission to, or publication in, any other medium, including the Web). They should generally refer to an article that has appeared within the last seven days. We reserve the right to edit letters.
To be considered for publication, letters MUST include the writer’s name, address, current location (where you are writing from) and daytime and evening phone numbers at your current location (for verification, not for publication).
We generally do not publish more than one letter from the same writer within any 60-day period. (This applies to the daily letters page, but feel free to submit letters to the weekly sections.) If we select your letter for publication, you consent to our right to republish it, in any and all media, and to license third parties to publish it as well.
If you submit your contact information as a result of this automated reply, please re-send the letter with it. (In the subject line, please indicate the headline of the article you’re responding to, and delete “The New York Times - automated reply.”) Because of computer security concerns, we do NOT accept attachments; they will NOT be opened.Please resubmit your letter pasted into the body of an e-mail message. If you send us more than one message in any seven-day period, you will receive only one automated reply.
Letters submitted for publication in other sections may be sent directly to these addresses:
artsleis@nytimes.com (Arts & Leisure)
books@nytimes.com (Sunday Book Review)
dining@nytimes.com
escapes@nytimes.com
magazine@nytimes.com
oped@nytimes.com (for Op-Ed submissions, not letters)
public@nytimes.com
realestate@nytimes.com
region@nytimes.com (the regional weeklies)
scitimes@nytimes.com
sports@nytimes.com (SportsSunday)
sunbiz@nytimes.com
sundaystyles@nytimes.com
travelmail@nytimes.com
For more information on how to contact The Times,
please visit: http://www.nytimes.com/ref/membercenter/help/infoservdirectory.html.
Sincerely,
The New York Times
That’s a lot of information in just a few quick paragraphs. Here is the key point that is valuable for almost any Letter to the Editor situation: Letters should be no longer that 150 words. This is clearly a situation where less is more. There were six letters published in today’s edition of the Times. Five of them were written by regular folks. The word count on these averaged 89 per letter — less than 2/3 of the maximum. One published letter was 274 words. It was written by the Ambassador of Libya. The moral of the story is that if you’re a ranking government official, you can flaunt the rules a bit, otherwise you should remember that those editors are tired. Give them a break and keep it short and sweet.
Yesterday, the New York Times ran article about marital discord caused by couples disagreeing about the order of their Netflix queue. (Found HERE.) My hubby and I happen to heavy Netflix users, though neither of us actually watch movies. We are tired, and thus tend to fall asleep about 25 minutes into even the most riveting blockbuster. We do however, both watch DVDs on the treadmill. There are several series that I only allow myself to watch while chugging along at least 4.0 on the speed button. In my case, the promise of seeing Jack Bauer or Sydney Bristow kicking the living daylights out of some bad guy is the single motivating factor in my exercise regime. Hubby prefers reliving the misadventures of Tony Soprano. Ewww. I prefer my gratuitous violence without all the nasty language.
We knew from the get-go that merging out Netflix queues would be fitness suicide. We have always kept separate queues. The Times article calls this Netflix divorce, though I prefer to think of it as Netflix separate vacations. The reader comments posted about this article online were primarily observations about the sorry state of modern marriage (How can you get married if you can’t agree on a flim?). Those commenters must have been newlyweds. Anyone who has more than two or three years worth of wedded compromise bliss under their belts knows that if you’re still talking to each other enough to argue about your movie queue then your union is solid indeed.
Beyond that, the “sorry state” writers were missing the tone of the article. It was fun and lighthearted social commentary. Letters about lighthearted articles need to be lighthearted in tone as well. But you can’t just say, “Hey, I totally related to your article. It made me laugh at me,” because that’s boring. In my mind, the way to get a letter published about a fun human interest story is to up the fun ante — take it to the next level.
Here’s what I sent the Times:
Regarding Michael Wilson’s Sunday Styles article 3/29/09, “Hey, Who Ordered Gigli?”
Not only did my husband Netflix divorce me years ago, my children are now petitioning to become Netflix emancipated minors. Apparently, as a woman who orders The Hours, I need a queue of my own.
The facts of this are not entirely true. My kids have no interest in Netflix because they’re too busy downloading iCarly from iTunes. And while I did read the Virginia Woolf homage, The Hours, in my book group, I never did order it. I’d just fall asleep.
However, I do think it works as a letter. It’s very short — no one wants to read 200 words about someone else’s ideosyncracies in response to a fluff piece. Instead, my letter takes the fluff commentary to the next level. What’s the logical extreme of divorce? Emancipated children? And I give that little play on words there, which should make those intellectual types at the Times smile.
At least I hope so.
About a month ago, I went with my family on a wonderful week-long vacation to Costa Rica. If you’re interested, you can read a complete trip report HERE. (And by the way, thanks again to the fabulous Deb Wills of allears.net for allowing me to be a guest blogger on the creme de la creme of Disney info sites.) The most memorable part of a very memorable trip was our excursion on the Sky Trek zip lines. In fact, the zip lines were about 75% of the reason why we chose Costa Rica as a travel destination. The kiddos’ favorite activity at their summer camp is a small zip line. They happened to see some TV footage of the Costa Rican zip lines and there was no way were going to avoid going there. Flying through the air over the jungle was something they had to do. Please, mommy, please. While zip lining did not end up to be my particular cup of tea (did I mention the flying through the air over the jungle part?), I am glad that I added this to my list of life experiences. Moreover, I have spoken with about a dozen different families who have been to Costa Rica and, bar none, they mentioned zip lining as a key element of their trips.
I woke up this morning to find three full pages of the New York Times travel section devoted to touring Costa Rica. You can read the article HERE. The author, Ethan Todra-Whitehill, does a phenomenal job with his trip report. (Needless to say, a much better job than I did with my trip report.) He talks about the animals and jungle and rafting and the beach with passion and flair. But he does not once mention zip lining as an activity. OK, so the article does take the form a report on his own experiences and he did not happen to go on a zip line. But sheesh, it’s a HUGE eco-tourism draw and one of the most popular activities for that destination. Don’t you think Mr. New York Times could have at least mentioned that this existed?
So my letter to the Times today points out their sin of omission.
Here it is:
Having recently returned from a week in Costa Rica, I was thrilled to relive our trip through Ethan Todras-Whitehill’s extensive travelogue. However, I feel he was remiss in not giving at least a passing mention to one of Costa Rica’s biggest adventure draws: jungle zip lines. While the rafting portion of my trip was fun, the most memorable activity was a Sky Trek excursion over several miles of zip lines strung hundreds of feet over the rain forest. Traveling through the air at automobile-like speeds, with only a small harness for support was the thrill of a lifetime. In my opinion, a must-have experience for any traveler to Costa Rica.
Whether by design or simply lack of space, no article can ever cover a topic in its entirety. Something must always be left out. Given enough readers, those omissions are bound to be uncovered. Thus, the Sin of Omission letter is a staple of the Letter to the Editor art form. There’s even one that ran in today’s Times travel section. I wonder how I’ll do with it?