Writing for Broadcast (and elsewhere)
by Ralph J. Begleiter
Distinguished Journalist in Residence
University of Delaware, and former CNN World Affairs Correspondent

"Who writes your stuff?"

People ask me that all the time; they assume broadcasters have a legion of staffers who do the writing and research. Not so.

I write my own. And, most of the time, I did my own research (it's called "reporting" when it involves current events). In fact, the best broadcasters are good because they do their own reporting and writing. It's hard to appear believable on the air unless you know what you're talking about (which comes from doing your own reporting) and unless you sound intelligent, cogent and authoritative (which comes from skilled writing). Sounding ignorant or elementary just doesn't hack it on global TV.

What does this have to do with you? You'll never be writing for broadcast,right?

Wrong.

Think of yourself standing before a meeting of peers in your company, promoting a brainstorm.

Or think of yourself being envisioned by an unseen boss who's reading your latest memo (and won't get past the third paragraph unless you've captured her interest).

Or think of yourself speaking with journalists - or potential sponsors or underwriters - about your latest hot project.

Writing for broadcast is among the most difficult kinds of writing. You've got to be "tight," punchy and instantly engaging. It's much harder to write a "complete" story in a few seconds (or a couple of minutes at most) than it is to ramble for pages.

Most of my broadcast scripts were less than two pages long. And they had to engage the viewer right off the top, hold them through the body of the story, and leave them with something "lasting" at the conclusion. (That final, on-camera "standup" often was hardest to write; it's likely to be what people remember of your story.)

Furthermore, broadcast writers have to "marry" their words with whatever television pictures are available, or whatever graphics and special effects might be possible. Words can't "fight" the pictures (because the pictures always win).

And broadcast writing is usually done under the toughest of deadlines.

Imagine having to tell a complicated story about Arab-Israeli peace negotiations - with literally thousands of years of history lurking in the background - in two minutes or less. And imagine having to write that story in one hour. Or two hours.

And imagine, once it's been reviewed by your editors, having to commit that story to tape (in your own voice) irrevocably. Once the story flies through the atmosphere on a satellite to the home office for broadcast, you can no longer make any changes. Even if events or your own reporting uncover new facts.

What you write in an hour or two must hold up under the pressure of competition and constantly changing events. And it must work with the pictures. That's pressure!

How many times have you watched a television anchor and realized, somehow, almost instantly that he/she hasn't a clue beyond they words they're reading about the story they're telling? You can see it in their eyes (wandering vacantly across the TelePrompter) and hear the uncertainty in their voice. You just know that if anyone asked them a question about the subject of their story, they wouldn't know anything more than what was written for them by someone else. You instantly dismiss them as little more than a news "reader" or "announcer.

And how many times have you watched a television reporter perform a "live" tag to her recorded report, then seeing when she's asked a question that she knows her subject and can go beyond her written report articulately and confidently? That's the result of good reporting and good writing. In broadcasting, good writing matters. It matters more than anything else. To you, too.

I write my own stuff.