First-person feature stories?

[Dick Whitman]

That was a good piece, certainly more nuanced than the version that originally ran in the Wash Post that made Carter look like a total monster. The first person references certainly didn't distract from the narrative, although I'm not convinced they were necessary. However, I really dislike the awkward construction of "Three weeks after the trial, Carter's best friend met with a reporter" when the *reporter* is the person telling the story, so I think it served its purpose here.

That's a big reason it's used, I think. I find it really disorienting nowadays when a reporter just quotes someone, without context. Did he say it in court? Did he say it to another person? Did he say it to you? Is it hearsay? In the #FakeNews era, when I always am wary of being manipulated, it is extremely helpful for me, the reader, to know when and how quotes were obtained.

 

[Dick Whitman]

"Why are you highlighting passages in the New Yorker?"

"Because I'm involved in an ongoing online discussion about the use of first person in long-form magazine feature writing and when it works and when it doesn't."

My wife must think I'm the biggest weirdo in six states.

 

[YankeeFan]

"Why are you highlighting passages in the New Yorker?"

"Because I'm involved in an ongoing online discussion about the use of first person in long-form magazine feature writing and when it works and when it doesn't."

My wife must think I'm the biggest weirdo in six states.

Been there.

"What are you arguing about now," is the usual question.

You should have seen the look I got when I briefly described the board scism.

 

[franticscribe]

We go to a big, ornate Episcopal church in Fort Worth. There are a couple of African-American families (the kids have flown the nest recently so we don't seem them so much), a couple of Hispanic families, one big Indian family, and then the rest of it is pretty much upper- and upper-middle-class white folks (mostly straight, a few gay couples).

DaughterQuant is a once-a-month (at least) acolyte, and I am lector once every couple of months. When I am lector, it is always the 1115 service, which puts us on the road back home around 1215/1230. On those days we're prone to stop at a Luby's (cafeteria) that's on the way home, and apparently this particular Luby's is proximate to a large African-American church. When we go there we are literally the only white people in there. There was a time in my life when I would have felt self-conscious about that, but these days, I'm so glad to see fried chicken or chicken-fried steak on my plate, I really can't think about anything else.

I attend a small, urban Episcopal church. We have a few African-American members, a couple of interracial families and a smattering of various other non-white folks thanks to a nearby college. Otherwise our membership fits the bill that one typically thinks of with the Episcopal church: middle- and upper-middle class white folks, with perhaps a higher percentage of gay, lesbian and trans members than you might find in the larger or more suburban parishes.

What has always stricken me as odd is that there is a relatively small African-American congregation up the street from us in one direction and a relatively small Hispanic congregation in the other. All Episcopal and all within a five minute drive of each other. Because we are all small, none of us have the resources to do as much as we would like to do in the community and all three of us replicate a lot of the same things. For example, our church has breakfast for the needy every day. The African-American congregation does lunch several times a week. The Hispanic congregation routinely has dinners. The three churches hold services together a few times a year and it's always fantastic. Every single time I wonder why we aren't one combined parish that worships together every week. Together we could be a healthy and vibrant congregation. But the minute you start talking about closing one of the churches, or asking some vestry members to give up a little bit of their authority, well all heck breaks loose. So we all struggle on in close proximity to each other.

 

[WriteThinking]

What has always stricken me as odd is that there is a relatively small African-American congregation up the street from us in one direction and a relatively small Hispanic congregation in the other. All Episcopal and all within a five minute drive of each other. Because we are all small, none of us have the resources to do as much as we would like to do in the community and all three of us replicate a lot of the same things. For example, our church has breakfast for the needy every day. The African-American congregation does lunch several times a week. The Hispanic congregation routinely has dinners. The three churches hold services together a few times a year and it's always fantastic. Every single time I wonder why we aren't one combined parish that worships together every week. Together we could be a healthy and vibrant congregation. But the minute you start talking about closing one of the churches, or asking some vestry members to give up a little bit of their authority, well all heck breaks loose. So we all struggle on in close proximity to each other.

This is a really interesting point. Here's the reason I think the situation that you describe occurs: Church, or spiritual values, as global as they tend to be, are still very personal things to most people.

And once a church becomes a mega church, it changes. It is better than a small church for some things -- global outreach, known recognition as a spreader/"recruiter" of whatever values the church espouses, the financial wherewithal to do some major good in the world, etc.

But, it loses its appeal, and effectiveness, for some people, as well. Mostly that is because it is, or will become, less personal to them. They will not find, or feel, their place in it as much or as well. Most large churches have what are called "small groups." There's a reason for that. Some people, however, would see that and say, "If you're going to do that, why be in a big church?"

They might feel like the intimacy is forced. It's not intended that way, but the point is that, sometimes, the vibe changes as a church changes. And we all know how people usually feel about change. It's difficult.

To quote one of my mom's favorite sayings, from Mother Teresa: "We all can't do great things, but we all can do small things with great love."

Basically, it's a matter of different strokes for different folks.

 

[Skylar]

Hey thanks for so many responses. I really didn't think a discussion like this was possible from my question.

Every story is different, obviously. Some do the first person better than others. Reading all these examples in this thread, I think some GQ pieces could be a lot better if they didn't use first-person. They're all well-written, though. I read that feature on Aziz Ansari they did a few weeks ago, the first-person there was well-done but it was still a little weird to me. I love how the New Yorker does first-person. It's not super in-your-face like a lot of these other stories are.

 

[Skylar]

Here is a feature in the new issue of "Esquire" about the girl who was convicted of manslsughter in her boyfriend's suicide.

The writer takes a long time to enter - nearly three printed pages - and finally does so after unspooling the pretrial background.

The homicide trial began this past June at the Bristol County Juvenile Court in Taunton, Massachusetts. I had been covering the case since last December, when only a handful of reporters clustered together on the frozen concrete, grousing about why they couldn't be assigned a murder in Florida.

The first-person establishes that the writer is an eyewitness to the events she describes in the second third of the story, although she only breaks the fourth wall sparingly for a while.

He's a huge presence in the final third, though, when he analyzes the facts and tracks down witnesses in an effort to reach conclusions about Carter and the verdict. It works for me. By the end, when he renders her determination (in first-person), he has very craftily and steadily, while patiently increasing his involvement, built up the trust with the reader to credibly issue his judgment.

There is no journey of self-discovery for the writer. The focus remains on Carter.

Behind the Scenes of the Michelle Carter Verdict - Conrad Roy Suicide Trial

I actually don't think first-person does this story any good at all. At least it's only used in a few places. It's awkward and could be phrased differently. Instead of "I found it hard to imagine anyone trusting his expertise..." what's so wrong with "It was hard to trust his expertise?"

It's like, we get it. You're writing this. OK. But actually tell the story. WHY was it hard to "imagine anyone trusting his expertise?" Anyway, the passage after that sentence does show why, so I'm nit-picking a little.

 

[Dick Whitman]

I actually don't think first-person does this story any good at all. At least it's only used in a few places. It's awkward and could be phrased differently. Instead of "I found it hard to imagine anyone trusting his expertise..." what's so wrong with "It was hard to trust his expertise?"

It's like, we get it. You're writing this. OK. But actually tell the story. WHY was it hard to "imagine anyone trusting his expertise?" Anyway, the passage after that sentence does show why, so I'm nit-picking a little.

I understand your point, and agree in most columns. But this was written pretty straight most of the way through. I like the decision by the writer not to act like the omniscient voice of God. It's a conversation with the reader.

 

[BYH 2: Electric Boogaloo]

Been there.

"What are you arguing about now," is the usual question.

You should have seen the look I got when I briefly described the board scism.

I remember often smiling when I was steamed about something on the board b/c I didn't want to have to explain to my wife that I was mad over something someone said on a message board. Those were the days.

 

[Dick Whitman]

Two features I read over the weekend:

GQ profile on Tucker Carlson that uses first-person:

Tucker Carlson Is Sorry for Being Mean

ESPN: The Magazine piece on the Indians winning streak that does not:

The clubhouse view of Cleveland's streak

I think they both work.

(As an aside, credit to the writer of the Indians piece for trying to make a baseball clubhouse, one of the world's most tedious holding pens, interesting.)

 

[WriteThinking]

Two features I read over the weekend:

GQ profile on Tucker Carlson that uses first-person:

Tucker Carlson Is Sorry for Being Mean

This was another instance where the first-person wasn't needed at all. Nearly all the times it was used, it could've been entirely gone without, without changing the story even a little bit. It's gratuitous.

Other than that, it was an interesting profile -- not that revealing, I didn't think -- but interesting. The most revealing parts were the mention of his obsession with death, with the examples of the references to the plane crash and his morning routine of reading the obits, and his nicotine-gum addiction.

The part near the end that says the two sides of his personality don't seem to know each other seems spot on. He does seem to be someone hard to get to really know, perhaps because of that disconnect/disassociation. I know I, myself, have liked him. But, I've also never been quite sure of him and what I've seen of him on Fox News -- as if it is forced, superficial, or, simply, a role.

As for the end of the story, I thought it kind of fizzled, and weirdly so. That last paragraph seemed to come out of nowhere, and, like the periodic first-person writing, seemed entirely unnecessary.

 

[Dick Whitman]

I think I am in the tank for first person. It almost never bothers me.