A long, long time ago (actually, March 1977) I was trying to educate a reporter at the Courier-Journal in Louisville. “Emily” had written a dull, 49-word lead on what needed to be a sprightly story, about a teacher exchange between Kentucky and Great Britain. I sent her this memo:

“The exchange story has all the necessary information presented in an orderly way. Anyone who starts with some interest in the subject would probably get through it okay.

“The problem with it—to my mind anyway—is a writing one. It doesn’t focus on what the story is really about. It is not really about the transient problem of two teachers who may miss a year abroad. What makes somebody want to read it (I think) is the delicious irony of poor old Kentucky seizing the banner of academic excellence to keep out those barbarous English. That’s exaggerating, of course, but something like that came to mind when you started describing the story. The story doesn’t have to say that—it can’t—but the facts themselves will suggest it to the reader.

“I’d favor a lead something like this:

‘Two Kentuckians may lose trips to Great Britain as Fulbright exchange teachers because their British replacements don’t meet Kentucky’s academic standards.

‘Few British teachers have the bachelor’s degree required by most American schools, including Kentucky’s. Many states waive the requirement for exchange teachers, but Kentucky never has.

‘There have been “very, very few exchange teachers for Kentucky,” said Dr. Sidney Simandle, who has charge of teacher certification for the state.’

“Okay, what’s happened at this point? The whole gist of the story has been put in a lead much shorter than the original, and one that gets in the irony. Left out is a bad cliché—‘coveted’—and the excessively formal ‘United Kingdom.’ Few people know just what the United Kingdom is, but Great Britain covers England and Scotland in familiar terms.

“The second graph explains the problem—lack of bachelor’s degrees in England—without stopping the story to explain how teachers there are trained. That can come later. The graph also continues the irony of Kentucky’s lonely position in this matter.

“And I couldn’t resist continuing with Dr. Simandle’s quote in the third graph—‘of course we’ll have very, very few exchange teachers if this sort of thing keeps up.’

“I’m aware that the writer’s point of view is showing here—not in any words, but in selection and arrangement of facts. I may have slipped over the invisible line into news analysis. Remove the third graph if this is the case.

“The next graph should probably go on to explain that Kentucky is willing to reconsider, but may not have time. Then on into the people involved and their comments.

“There are other ways to write this; maybe this isn’t the best. But it does get into the story quickly, with focus and no wasted words. I think it would be attractive and even entertaining to readers who don’t start with an interest in the subject.

“One other point. I haven’t given Dr. Simandle’s full title, which is a mind-stopper. Instead I’ve just told what he does—which is enough.

“Now, counter-arguments.”

So did Emily see the light and recast her story along the suggested lines? She did not. She submitted it instead to a different editor, and it appeared in the paper next day exactly as she had written it, with the 49-word lead, United Kingdom, coveted, and Dr. Simandle’s full title.

Buoyed by the success of my efforts, I left the paper two years later and went into teaching fulltime.