In The Beginning

A writer and editor work to frame the chaos of Ukraine

2/28

noah,

i know you are up to your eyeballs in fast breaking events but if the spirit hits you, and you feel like keeping a separate notebook, i’d be eager to see any big big yarns about what and who you’re seeing.

m

3/1

Hey Michael,

Thanks for the note. Have actually been meaning to write you about actually this. Trying to keep an eye out for connecting threads. Haven’t quite figured out what the big story is yet — and the little ones are changing so damn fast. But once I do, definitely interested in writing something for the big roundtable. Will hopefully be in touch again in a few days.

- N

3/1

noah,

dont worry too much about seeing anything big just now. you are witnessing a good many things, all in a great rush, all confusing and fascinating. we’ll have read the stories and followed the news. but to me i’d really like to see a story that takes me there, that captures what it was like. the moment feels so remarkable, and so much like the future as past. i have no problem, none at all, envisioning a story that begins with I arrived in Crimea just as all hell was breaking loose….
see what i mean?

m

3/15

i agree, there is a massive tale here. and i would like to do it for you (and with your feedback, ideally). when i finally get out of here, i think i need to take a few days to get out of the daily news flow — to breathe and wrap my mind around everything that happened.

the guys at roads & kingdoms (do you know them? if not, you’d like their stuff) just had me do a piece. I see it as a rough sketch of where I could take the material: http://roadsandkingdoms.com/2014/the-russians-are-coming/

would be curious to hear your thoughts when you have a minute to read…

Noah

3/15

this is terrific. vivid and evocative and so well told. a few thoughts going forward.

there’s a tricky dance between high concept and depth — in that depth without a clear, unifying frame can feel, well, complex. the thing is, it needs to be complex w/out seeming so, as if the entire story is told, and reads, effortlessly.
all this, of course, comes from knowledge, which comes from reporting. which is what makes the work we do so satisfying.

so how to resolve this quandary? to my mind, the best way is to think NOT of a story idea (sounds counterintuitive, no?) but of a question — ideally one that can be distilled in no more than five words.
to wit: the empire strikes back. a statement. but i wonder, and i realize this is very very high concept but in a way it does begin to get you to an organizing frame. readers need to feel that there is something YOU NEED TO LEARN, to discover, to make sense of. because when that happens you have a story that fairly pulses with your sense, desire, pursuit of answering a question.

in a sense, it is very much the same material, all seen through the prism of a compelling frame.
so…what do you want to know? we can go back and forth about this as much as you like.

i am also looping in my colleagues, who are wiser than wise

this is the hard part but the fun part. and it’s not a quiz. you are up to your eyeballs on this amazing story. and you will be back and forth and sideways w/ all sorts of questions and ideas. it’s all in your notebook. our job is to help you see the frame. then, you are gold.

it’s a real thrill watching you blossom as a journalist. it really is

m

3/20

Noah,

We’ve been talking about what might, if you’d like, work best for something big and lasting, and Anna, our publisher, suggested that what might be especially good and also, given all the moving parts that you’ve witnessed and been exposed to, is something along the lines of the Illumination Rounds in Michael Herr’s Vietnam book, Dispatches: a series of “set pieces,” (ok, think the threshing scene in Anna Karenina, a scene that is part of something larger but which can also stand alone).

It is, and here I am thinking of being a reporter on the ground, an easier way to pull things together. In that you needn’t beat yourself up trying to find a single narrative line.

Of course, if that line appears and is clear, all the better.

we are here to help. we really are.

best and keep your head down!

Michael

3/24

Hey Michael (and co!)…

I’ve been thinking a lot about your last two messages, and how to frame this piece (which I very much want to do for/with you all). Allow me to a ramble a bit here, as I lay out some thoughts…

This entire story is not really about Crimea, not about soldiers and seizures and (shoddy) referendums. Crimea is merely an embodiment of — or for writing purposes, an entree into — a much larger set of issues regarding history and its uses/distortions/interpretations. this is about Ukraine’s importance to Russia’s sense of self. and this is about Russia’s relationship with the west, about how Russia sees the world and how the west misunderstands the underpinnings of Russia’s view.

readers need to learn why ukraine/crimea is so damn important to russia right now that they’re willing to risk international isolation, or worse, world war to assert control over it.

my sense is that most people (and especially americans) see today’s events in ukraine/crimea through the fairly narrow prism of power and national interest. but for russia, I think this has more to do with identity and memory and historical legacy.

this is the soviet union collapsing — it happened, famously, with a “whimper” 23 years ago — well, here’s your bang. and, at the same time, this is russia struggling to forge a post-imperial (or neo-imperial) identity.

i don’t want to degenerate into kremlinology, but i do believe that this context is really really important to making sense of russia’s actions w.r.t. ukraine today.

and as a writer, one things excites me most about crimea is its historical richness — the place itself offers up windows onto the past, from the wax figures of roosevelt/churchill/stalin at the tsars’ former summer home in yalta, to the valley of the shadow of death near sevastopol, to pushkin’s fountain at the tatar palace in bakhchysaray. crimea’s role in the genesis of war photography/war reporting is also extremely interesting to me, especially since this current “war” is as much a battle for control over the narrative (and thus fought on the media field), as it is for control over territory.

anyways, let me know what you think of all this. in the meantime, I’m going to start putting words to paper before my memory fades.

yours,

Noah

3/24

noah,

your memo is very smart and i am really delighted you want to work w/ us… the one thought that becomes ever clearer in reading the memo is that the story contains, and should therefore reflect a host of moving parts: what is taking place on the ground (in various places), what is taking place in the kremlin, and the long and multi-faceted shadows and historical precedents, grievances, struggles.

in other words, this is a mess. which makes it a) so much of a better story and b) why a clear and simple frame is essential. otherwise, readers will not see what is compelling here, and why they need to go along for the ride.

and so…think of the title of remnick’s big book: lenin’s tomb. right there the whole theme idea of the book is captured: what happens when a people discover the history that’s been denied them. w/ that conceit in mind, you are compelled, as a writer, to explain the history, the patterns and history of denial, the consequences and ultimately the reaction.

the same holds true here: which is why i think the overarching conceit for this story is: the empire strikes back.

as you put it so well, the cold war ended 23 yrs ago w/ a whimper and now…bang.

staying with the “empire strikes back” conceit, you are then compelled (as remnick was) to explain what happened to the empire, what made the empire see itself in all its glorious complexity, why the empire would at some point feel the need to strike back, what striking back looked like, and the consequences.

the story has a logic, forged by that clear and compelling frame. every element you then choose to include speaks to that conceit. a scene w/ a group of soldiers, say, is no longer just a scene; what we want you to show us is how this is what striking back looks like, on the ground. in stepping back to explain historical antecedents to this moment, you’ll want to use those opportunities to explain (tell v show) how the empire came to be and how it came to see itself.

it’s a funny thing: journalists tend to avoid what feels like “high concept” — too hollywood, to simple. but i’d argue that what the high concept does is give you license and space to be complex. because it provides the frame. everything makes sense. and readers feel two things: that you, the writer, are in control of this tale and b) your palpable desire to make sense of what you have been witnessing.

m

3/26

Michael,

This all sounds like extremely sage advice. Thank you.

Let’s give it a shot in scenes. I’ll finish a couple at a time and send them your way. You can tear them apart/comment. Rinse and repeat.

Looking forward…

Yours,

Noah