On August 14, 2002 a letter and survey form (Appendix XVI) was sent, via publishers, to 40 Australian journalist-novelists, four of them residing overseas. There were 13 completed responses, four were returned unopened and three indicated uncertainty as to whether they qualified to participate. The remainder either did not receive the form or declined to respond. Condon, Drewe and Johnson did not
participate because they were interviewed separately. The survey was not intended as a scientific random sample. Its aim was to secure responses on questions to inform the thesis and its research questions. The results may be skewed in that those most likely to respond may see journalism as more relevant to their fiction than those who chose not to respond.
Those who participated were: John Birmingham, Geraldine Brooks, Liz Byrski, Isobelle Carmody, Jon Cleary, Anne Deveson, Barry Dickins, Andrew Humphreys, Michael Jacobson, Linda Jaivin, Di Morrissey, Kris Olsson and Jane Sullivan. Of these, five served cadetships or have journalism degrees. Eight of 13 either first engaged journalism on a freelance basis before becoming staff members or have always been contributors. Among the key findings:
• eight said they used people, stories or incidents from their journalism in their fiction;
• eleven said journalism gave them special insights that would not have been readily available to them in other occupations. Two who indicated uncertainty gave contradictory responses suggesting the true result is 13 of 13;
• eight said their journalism background made their first novel more attractive to publishers in terms of marketing and-or in getting it reviewed; and
• seven said the inverted pyramid and other journalistic formulas neither helped nor hindered their fiction. Others said “formulas” never applied to them.
The results were more mixed on whether they saw journalism as an avenue to writing novels and if their colleagues viewed their transition to fiction positively or negatively. In terms of journalistic practice they felt most assisted their fiction, the most frequently marked items were:
• information gathering and interviews, including research (8); • meeting deadlines and work habits (8);
• feature writing (7);
• themes/topics worthy of pursuit in terms of reader interest and public impacts (7);
• voice/sense of audience/point of view (7);
• respect for accuracy, factual detail and “truth telling” (7); • scene-setting and descriptive writing (6);
• knowledge of and experience with public policy and institutions (6); • dialogue/quotation (6);
• story structures/story-telling (5); and • news reporting (3).
Four respondents – Morrissey, Jacobson, Dickins and Humphreys – addressed the listing discursively. Therefore their responses could not be easily factored into individual categories. Only four of those who responded indicated a pre-journalistic ambition to write a novel. Brooks said she never thought she would achieve it until she left daily reporting and began writing non-fiction books. Sullivan said she thought journalism would be a way of writing while earning a living but did not think it would help her write novels. Morrissey said although she wanted to write books from an early age she was unsure how, financially speaking, she could do so. In journalism she “quickly learned it’s damned hard to be creative and inspired in your own time when you’re working with words all day long as a business”. Jacobson said he felt journalism would prevent him from becoming a novelist: “It’s a very staid profession these days, more contrived than ever before.”
Appendix XV details examples of the respondents’ use of people, stories and incidents from their journalism in their fiction. Most, such as Jaivin, said these had been “creatively altered” to suit their fictive purposes. Morrissey said people she met in journalism frequently inspired her. The same occurs with her fiction except she changes them physically to avoid the moral and ethical responsibility of quoting them precisely:
I’ve interviewed famous people – movie stars and temperamental TV stars and music idols – so I’ve used some of those disguised people, attitudes and instances in books,
especially Blaze, which is about the magazine industry. I drew heavily on ex-journos, bitch lady editors and aggressive ambitious media women I worked with for that book!
In reference to special insights that journalism offers, Birmingham, Humphreys and Dickins cited interviewing experience. Byrski mentioned recognition that there is always more than one side to a story. Carmody said journalism let her see words as tools and to regard editing as a vital and creative part of writing: “It enabled me to think clearly and concisely and to see structures. It disciplined my creativity and I quit before it oppressed me”. Brooks also cited textual demands and practices as aiding her fiction:
I think the exigencies of daily journalism make you less ‘precious’ about writing. Even on a bad day, I have the discipline to write something, knowing I can later revise it. I don’t sit around a lot waiting for my muse. As a friend advised me years ago: ‘when there’s no wind, row’.
Deveson, Jacobson, Cleary and Morrissey noted journalism’s proximity to people, places and events as useful. Deveson found journalism brought her insights and a “rich store of knowledge” into people’s lives in a wide variety of settings. Jacobson said it not only did this but also gave him insight into people’s motivations, which he believes is crucial to a novel. Cleary said journalism helped him understand the people of New York and London when he was based in those cities with the Australian News and Information Bureau. Morrissey found journalism gave her opportunities to travel and meet people she would not have had in a conventional job.
Dickins and Humphreys said writing mechanics and their relationships with journalism and fiction cannot be conflated. Dickins remarked, “all fiction … is the opposite of journalism. The press has no bearing upon novels. All the characters who live in my fiction are entirely unreal. Journalism is realistic life-writing”. According to Humphreys: “To me, journalism and fiction are completely different forms. They require different approaches. Writing fiction is a way to escape the restrictions of journalistic formulas”.
In terms of whether a journalism background is attractive to publishers Jacobson said his first novel, Windmill Hill, was accepted on its merits alone. Jaivin said there is “no correlation” between her journalism and publishers seeing her first novel as being attractive. Yet she added, “they were initially attracted to approach me
on the basis of my journalism”. In varying degrees Birmingham, Brooks, Byrski, Deveson, Dickins, Humphreys, Morrissey and Sullivan said their media profiles assisted them in becoming novelists.
Birmingham pointed out that Michael Duffy, who had been his editor at the
Independent Monthly, published his first novel, He Died With a Falafel in His Hand
in 1994. Brooks said her journalism assisted 1995 publication of her non-fiction books, Nine Parts of Desire and Foreign Correspondence three years later. That, in turn, helped get her first novel, Year of Wonders, published in 2001. Byrski said her 10 non-fiction books were similarly helpful. Deveson indicated her journalistic background might have worked against her in getting reviews. But it was a bonus in marketing terms. Dickins said his popularity as a daily newspaper essayist helped him win commissions for novels. According to Humphreys, his journalism was “definitely” an advantage: “Publishers will use any angle they can, and any media experience is a bonus for them”. Morrissey said her profile as a television personality was of considerable assistance. She was commissioned to write her first novel on the basis of her media background and a 30-page idea she had developed for a television series. Olsson said she had a “fairly recognisable byline” that assisted her. Sullivan observed her media profile created a “small local recognition factor”. Her publisher used the photograph on the book jacket that was being used for her weekly newspaper column. She added: “Personally I doubt it made much difference. Also, reviewers seem to be obsessed with novelists who were once journalists. I don’t know why it’s important.”
Several indicated their journalistic colleagues seemed jealous about their success as novelists. Birmingham said, as a freelancer, he had no difficulties but he knew of others who “took a lot of shit”. Brooks felt they envied the freedom of novel writing. Cleary felt “envied” while Dickins found “contempt, or even jealousy and hate”. Morrissey said she encountered jealousy because she had done what “all journos” aspire to do: “Most didn’t know I’d always written as a living and thought I was just a blonde TV presenter who got to her use-by date and then cast around for a new career and knocked off a novel!”
Olsson, Jacobson and Sullivan said they received positive feedback from colleagues. Olsson said she detected some cynicism but also a great deal of encouragement. Jacobson said he received “wonderful” support: “It’s like we’re all in
this together”. For Sullivan, some colleagues were helpful and supportive. However one said: “Oh no, not another journalist with a novel in their bottom drawer.”
In relation to the research questions the survey responses are noteworthy in that news reporting and writing mechanics, such as story structures, appear to be the least influential elements of journalistic practice in terms of novel writing. The most conspicuous aspects cited centre on those elements “beyond the keyboard”. These include interviewing, research skills and direct observation. The benefits of daily writing and deadline disciple can, of course, be linked to news reporting and writing mechanics and to overall organisational skills as they pertain to information gathering.
Summary and Conclusions
The readability and creativity studies and author survey indicate training and experience in journalism can influence journalists who write novels. The readability study suggests in the context of writing mechanics that some journalist-novelists continue to be influenced by journalism. This is especially true with their first novels. Compared to non-journalists their prose is not more readable according to readability measurements. However the study suggests journalist-novelists write significantly fewer sentences per paragraph. This implies a residual influence of journalistic practice. The finding there was no statistically significant differences in overall readability raises a number of possibilities. It may show that:
• members of each group possessed natural writing ability that was affected in only limited ways degree by external factors;
• journalist-novelists may have produced more readable fictive prose without journalism; or
• journalist-novelists may have produced less readable fictive prose without journalism.
There is some evidence journalist-novelists can craft strategies to make their prose “more creative”. While any writer can achieve that, it is more difficult for journalists to do so because of their training to write quickly and according to specific formulas. Such practices are not conducive to imaginative storytelling or inventive prose. Journalism’s extrinsic motivations encourage its practitioners to think “outside of themselves”. This is beneficial in identifying themes of public interest and impact
and crafting readable texts. However, it can pose obstacles to creative self-expression privileging the “surrender to the answer already in you”. Newsrooms are poor environments for such introspection. Research shows creativity is more likely to prosper in circumstances that discourage criticism and judgmental limitations.
The author survey supports the readability study’s findings in that most respondents did not view journalism’s practices in writing mechanics as particularly helpful to their fiction. More trenchantly, they found practices relating to journalism’s non-textual experience most beneficial. In reference to creativity, the survey provided some support for the notion descriptive writing in journalism can aid fiction. Few, however, saw creative self-expression in journalism positively.
In reviewing the research questions, there is no persuasive evidence adduced for this chapter that proves journalist-novelists generate more readable prose than those without journalistic experience. However, there is some evidence journalist- novelists are more likely than not to:
• base their fiction on direct observation and experience rather than on imagination;
• be seen by publishers as potentially successful novelists because of their public profiles as journalists;
• be attracted to fiction as a method of expression that journalism could not satisfy.
The next chapter on Marcus Clarke is the first of four concluding chapters that examine the work and lives of the five exemplary authors.