Writers name three good reasons to slow the pace of a story:<p>1. To simplify the complex.
2. To create suspense.
3. To focus on the emotional truth.
Consider this unusual lead to a story about the city government budget:<p>Do you live in St. Petersburg? Want to help spend $548 million?<p>It's money you paid in taxes and fees to the government. You elected the City Council to office, and as your representatives, they're ready to listen to your ideas on how to spend it.<p>Mayor Rick Baker and his staff have figured out how they'd like to spend the money. At 7 p.m. Thursday, Baker will ask the City Council to agree with him. And council members will talk about their ideas.<p>You have the right to speak at the meeting, too. Each resident gets three minutes to tell the mayor and council members what he or she thinks.<p>But why would you stand up?<p>Because how the city spends its money affects lots of things you care about.<p>Not every journalist likes this approach to government writing, but its author, Bryan Gilmer, gets credit for an effect I call "radical clarity." Gilmer eases the reader into this story with a sequence of short sentences and paragraphs. All the stopping points give the reader the time and space to comprehend. Yet there is enough variation to imitate the patterns of normal conversation. (Roy Peter Clark)<p>***"Normal conversation," maybe, if you're talking to a baby. Also, anyone who has covered a city council budget hearing knows that the councilmen are
not "ready to listen to your ideas on how to spend it." (
The Onion this week, in a list of "Good-Citizenship Tips," suggests that people "waste enormous amounts of your and others' time by speaking out at city-council meetings that drag on for hours." That's more like it.) Even if that story had been well-written, it should be spiked because a budget-hearing advance deserves a brief, not a novel for television.***<p>[ June 30, 2004: Message edited by: blanp ]</p>