Last year, I got myself into what I will politely describe as “a pickle” with my work. It was my first full year back at work after having a baby; because of childcare commitments I was working four days a week rather than five (and often shorter days than before, given the hard deadline of the nursery pick up); doing an editing job for two of those four days and consequently trying to cram all my reporting and writing into just two, shortened, days a week. Add in the biological warfare that is a child’s first winter in nursery, and you can see why I fell behind on some deadlines. At one point I joked to my friends that I was running a scam where I kept agreeing to write features without ever delivering any of them (a truly terrible scam, because if nothing gets finished, I don’t get paid). Over the course of the year, I quit the editing job, upped my daughter’s days in nursery, and belatedly delivered all the work I’d got behind on. It is now safely in the past and I can meet deadlines again.
During that period of overwhelm, I had been reporting multiple features at once, gathering lots of material, but struggling to find time to sit down with that material and actually write it up. I am using the term “write it up” expansively, since it involves so many crucial steps that aren’t actually writing - figuring out what you have and what’s missing, transcribing audio or correcting auto-transcriptions, making a series of logical decisions about what to include and in what order. When I finally did get to the stage of writing up various pieces that I’d been reporting on and off for weeks, sometimes even months, I realised that in this state of frenzy I hadn’t been doing some of the basic things that I find pretty essential: having some way of keeping track of audio files and documents (like a clear set up of folders and filenames) and, the one I want to talk about here, keeping notes as you go along.
I like to record audio of interviews, and simultaneously jot down my impressions of people while they’re talking - physical descriptions, observations about body language or moments that seem particularly emotional or important during a conversation - as well as descriptions of places, rooms, atmospheres. Most often I do this by hand in my notebook, but sometimes I might use my phone, and if for some reason I haven’t been able to make notes in the moment I usually sit down at my computer after an interview or a day of reporting and write a quick paragraph or a few bullet points about whatever struck me most about what I saw or heard. I’ve experimented with different ways of doing this over the years. When I was reporting a lot in Karachi for my book, a few friends told me they swore by photographing places they were writing about to help with writing descriptions later. I tried doing this, but sadly ended up with literally hundreds of photos that look like this:
Photography probably isn’t my medium. Instead I went back to my preferred method of writing down descriptions of what I could see, while I was still looking at it. I spent a lot of time driving around the city to the different locations I was writing about, and I jotted down observations in the notes app on my phone, many of which ended up almost word for word in the book. I don’t think I’d have been able to write such vivid descriptions after the fact - the small details you notice when you’re actually looking around at something aren’t the same as the broad brushstrokes you might remember weeks later.
Joan Didion, talking to the Paris Review about the difference between writing novels and writing nonfiction, described it like this:
In nonfiction the notes give you the piece. Writing nonfiction is more like sculpture, a matter of shaping the research into the finished thing.
This brings me back to last year’s pickle. I found myself in the unenviable position of realising that I was so frazzled that I’d written down nothing apart from “has a beard” and “friendly” to describe one man I’d interviewed. Great job! Turns out it’s quite difficult (though, thankfully, not impossible) to recall distinctive details about a place or a person or an interaction weeks after the event. I do not recommend it. I’m working on various things at the moment - some of which should be out soon - and have been making copious notes throughout (if anything, too many, which is definitely preferable).
Reading/listening
This story by Patrick Radden Keefe, about a London teenager who died mysteriously after pretending to be an oligarch’s son, is just as good as everyone says it is.
The FT’s short podcast series The Retreat tells stories of people who suffered catastrophic mental health breakdowns after silent meditation retreats. I found it fascinating.
For obvious reasons, I was interested in this depressing Vox piece about how writers/artists have to engage in online content creation and essentially become experts in self-branding.
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I loved this! I feel into this exact pattern late last year after a small mental health wobble. Doing the actual reporting was easy, but doing anything with it was impossible. TY for sharing!
You quote Joan Didion on difference between writing fiction and non fiction but the quotation only refers to nonfiction?
Referring to a previous piece of yours on the meltdown in jobs in journalism - the quality of news reporting has become poorer while standout reportage is exactly that-outstanding. If the one longform piece I have read of yours is anything to go by, you are a rarity . The piece I read was about the kindness and brilliance of Stuart Potts to homeless strangers which also hints at some painful experiences for his own children, yet comes over as an entirely fully thought-through, non-judgmental piece that covers all bases. I am entirely critical of ownership in the British and American media and its toxic influence on our politics. Murdoch and Harmsworth for example, with the help of the Tory Party since Thatcher, in fact, has almost destroyed Britain yet Labour politicians feel forced to pay homage to gain power. For what end? For Murdoch and others to continue to destroy Britain? I expect so. But unless you are prepared to only to be involved with the likes of DDN or Byline Times, which would not pay the rent at all, you can't write about the tragedy that has overtaken good journalism (and there was good journalism and not just at the BBC. By the way, I agree, Norma Percy's documentaries are outstanding and she is an influence on me.) People have to much to read and too much to write themselves on unpaid social media and all that streaming with which to escape. Meanwhile, journalists themselves are asking is journalism the only form that can change things and have enormous impact? Look at ITVs drama Mr Bates Vs the Post Office. If drama can do that , which journalism informed, but which journalism over 15 years could not and did not do on its own, is this a revolutionary way of bringing information to people or will it only work occasionally when certain specific factors and portents come together? I read a lot and can't keep up with all the scandals, shock horrors. Similarly, I can't keep on top of all the Substacks, podcasts and niche outlets that do exist and that if I had all the time in the world I would read. So much passes me by. Politically, redundancies at Open Democracy , the limitations of the LRB and such informed left leaning outlets, will not be able to defend against the onslaught of populism and its discontents. Ignorance proliferates out there and conspiracy is the comfort blanket of the fearful. The moment Trump wins and gets on X/Twitter is when I will abandon it.