If you’ve ever stopped one of us at the grocery store, sent a Facebook message, or called the office and said, “You should do a story on this,” first of all, thank you. Truly. That sentence is how a lot of the best stories begin.
But I’ve learned that many people imagine that after those words are spoken, a reporter immediately drops everything, grabs a notebook, and speeds off like we just saw the Bat-Signal.
In real life, it’s a little less dramatic. And a lot more paperwork.
Step one is not writing the story. Step one is figuring out what the story actually is.
Sometimes the tip is very clear: “There was a wreck at this intersection,” or “The school board voted on this last night.” Great. We know where to start.
Other times it’s more like, “Something weird is going on,” followed by, “I don’t know if you heard,” and ending with, “Well, everybody’s talking about it.”
At that point, we start asking questions. What happened? Where did it happen? When did it happen? Who was involved? Is it ongoing? Is it public record? Is it something we can verify, or is it something that lives entirely in the Facebook comments section?
Because while rumors travel at the speed of Wi-Fi, confirmation still moves at the speed of phone calls and emails.
Next comes the “Can we actually report this?” phase.
Some things are frustrating, unfair or upsetting but are also private, sealed by law, or involve minors, medical issues or active investigations. That doesn’t mean they aren’t important. It just means we can’t legally or ethically print certain details, no matter how badly we may want answers, too.
This is usually the point where someone says, “Well, everyone already knows about it.”
And that may be true. But “everyone already knows” and “we can publish this in a newspaper” are not the same thing.
If it is something we can report, then comes the research phase, also known as: calling people who are in meetings, on vacation, or somehow always driving through a dead zone.
We call city officials, school administrators, law enforcement, state agencies, county officials, coaches, parents, attorneys, business owners and sometimes all of the above for the same story. We leave voicemails. We send emails. We wait. Then we call again.
This is not because we enjoy pestering people. It’s because a story with one side is not a story at all, it’s a quote.
And yes, sometimes we really are just waiting on that one last phone call before we can hit “send.”
Meanwhile, the rest of the newspaper does not pause.
There are still ballgames being played, meetings being held, ads to design, photos to caption, obituaries to format, calendars to update and about 47 other stories already in progress.
So while your suggested story is being worked on, it is also standing in line behind zoning hearings, budget reports and three different basketball tournaments that all somehow happened the same week.
Then, once the information is gathered, the writing starts.
This part looks quiet from the outside. It is not quiet on the inside.
We’re organizing notes, double-checking spellings, listening to the same recorded conversations over and over again, verifying dates, reading through public documents and making sure that what we write is accurate, fair and makes sense to someone who hasn’t been living in the middle of the issue.
After that comes editing, which includes reading the story again, then again, then once more while wondering how the same typo keeps surviving every round of corrections.
And then, just when everything is ready, someone calls back with new information.
So we adjust. And re-check. And sometimes rewrite half the story.
Only then does the story finally make it into the paper, where it is immediately followed by the phrase, “Why didn’t you include—” Which is fair. Because no story ever feels complete to the people who are living it.
All of this is not to say that story suggestions aren’t wanted. They absolutely are. Some of our best coverage starts because someone cared enough to speak up and say, “Hey, this matters.”
It’s just that the path from “you should do a story on this” to seeing it in print is less like flipping a switch and more like navigating a mine field.
With deadlines. And phone calls. And emails. And FOIA requests. And occasionally a printer that decides today is the day it will not cooperate.
So if you’ve ever wondered why a story didn’t appear immediately, or why it took a week, or why it looked different than you expected, it’s not because no one was listening.
It’s because behind that one sentence suggestion is a whole lot of checking, calling, waiting, confirming and rewriting, all happening while the rest of the community keeps right on moving.
And honestly, that’s how it should be. Because local news isn’t just about getting something printed. It’s about getting it right.
So keep the tips coming. Keep telling us what you think matters. Just know that once you say, “You should do a story on this,” the story has already started, it just has a few more steps to go before it shows up in your mailbox.
Be kind to your neighbors, Be kind to your pets, Be kind to your local news staff, we’re as invested in our communities as you are.