In the first minute of the first day of Journalism 101, they
say recording an interview with a source is a great way to gather information,
but always—ALWAYS!—take notes, too (because recorders are electronics and
electronics fail at exactly the wrong time). It’s such a basic, fundamental
part of being a journalist that they teach it to budding scribes even before
they say, “Hi, and welcome to Journalism 101.”
“Take copious notes.” Learn it. Love it. Live it.
Can you see where this is going?
A couple of weeks ago I drove up to Los Angeles to interview
THE primary source for my new book. We met at a lakeside restaurant, ordered
French dips and Diet Cokes, and I was effusive in my gratitude that this person—someone
who is very much in the public eye—found the time in his crazy schedule to meet
with me. And then we began the interview.
I hit RECORD on my little digital recorder, grabbed my pen,
and began to ask my questions. I was taking notes in a black Moleskin—as I was
trained to do—and all was well. My source was extremely articulate, completely
candid, and more insightful than I could have imagined. As he spoke, I grew
more and more excited about how much his words would help the book I’m working
on.
Can you see where this is going?
Our lunch arrived, and like a moron I realized I’d forgotten
to ask for my French dip to be made with no cheese—because I have a wee lactose
issue and, given that had a two-hour drive home from the restaurant—I didn’t
want to have to make an emergency stop at the Chevron station in Compton, where
I would no doubt have been killed and THEN how was I going to write this book.
So I performed the dietary version of the walk of shame, taking the top off of
my sammich and scraping the melted mozzarella off of the meant, first with a
knife and then with my right index finger.
When I was done, my fingers were greasy. I wiped them on my
napkin, but the act of repeatedly handling the sammich, dipping it in the au
jus, and all that shit just made it impossible to keep my hands in proper
note-taking shape. So, seeing that the digital recorder light was still red, I
surrendered my pen and kept eating.
We talked for 90 minutes—one of the longest and most
insightful interviews I’ve ever done. I called my agent on the way home and
told her all of the amazing things my source had said.
Two weeks later, after dismal failure in my attempt to find
a transcription service that doesn’t charge, like, one kidney for each printed
page, I sat down at Starbucks to transcribe the interview myself. I hit PLAY
and this is what I heard:
" "
And that’s when I got up, took my clothes off, doused myself
in hazelnut-flavored syrup, lit myself on fire, and ran screaming from the
building.
That just sucks. And blows.
I wouldn't think that Hazel-Nut flavored syrup would burn very well, but to each their own.
quick, interview your agent!
also, transcription-idea-that-does-you-no-good-since-you-don't-actually-have-an-audio-recording-to-transcribe: play the audio into a google voice voicemail message.
I hate to state the obvious, but aren't you aware that Starbucks is like a deep, demonic, black hole with some sort of crazy electromagnetic field that convinces people that their coffee doesn't taste like burnt dirt--I'm sure there was stuff recorded, and now it's been sucked into the Starbucks void.
Oh, and sorry that I laughed at your misery...twice.
Oh shit. It must have felt like the bottom of the world dropped out. I've had a similar experience involving a stuffed laptop. Any chance of another interview?
Go go gadget bionic memory!
Oh, I am so, so, sorry. My tummy is tumbling for you.
Ohhhh, DUDE.
God, I'm betting I know that feeling - that panicky, stomach dropping feeling. Here's to hoping your memory is better than mine... or your interviewee is kind-hearted!
Oooh, Danny. I work for a newspaper and I so completely feel your pain. I've done the same thing and can still access that combination of disbelief, physical illness and then self-hatred...Put it behind you and figure out the next step, my friend.
Ohhhhhh shit.
Stupid sammich! Stupid lactose! Stupid bowels! Stupid Compton!
You see where this is going? Clearly, it wasn't your fault.
What's a newspaper?...
Go get that interview Again!!
I have faith!!
Oh, man. That just sucks, and I'm so, so sorry.
Dude. Why didn't you just call me? I would be happy to do the interview again. Seriously, we can meet in the bathroom at the Chevron station in Compton.
My stomach just lurched for you. There is NOTHING worse than losing a picture, video, or recording. Even the ones that aren't 'important' leave a hole in your gut when you find they've been erased by some technological hijacking.
So sorry.
Dude! Awful. But seriously, seriously, seriously, get yourself some Lactaid! I never leave home without a pocket full of the stuff. Get Ultra strength, and take 4 of them when you're going to have cheese, ice cream, or milk.
Holy crap! So what do you do? Does this mean you have to take your source out for another meal and pretend the first interview never even happened?
Doh!
*time stop*
*rewind*
p.s. Finally got my copy of Rage. I'm about 1/2 way through it. Awesome.
Needless to say... lesson learned?
Wow. Really? Danny? Come on. Was the sammich worth it? That just sucks. On a different note: I'll transcribe for you.
Oh man, that SUCKS! So sorry! well at least you took notes for part of it, maybe the sammich didn't distract you enough, you can remember the rest of it...or the best parts anyway. Hey, there is nothing wrong with a follow-up call, something like: "I just wanted to clarify..." Might get more than you had to begin with! :-D
Also would like to offer transcription services for you. I'd only charge a pinky, you can keep your kidneys intact, lol.
That's awful! To have been prepared ...feeling prepared but this is what you got.
I've been doing medical transcription for 16 years and would hack out my kidney for the opportunity to do something a little different. Drop me an email and let's chat.