Style in Feature Stories.—Feature stories require some literary ability beyond that necessary for routine reporting. From the point of view of its composition the feature story is like a miniature short story. Therefore no definite rules can be laid down for its treatment. There need be no summary of essential facts at the beginning as in the typical news story. Like the short fiction story, the feature story may begin in any way that will attract the reader’s attention, and may be developed by conversation, by narration, or by description that suggests rather than portrays in great detail. A good feature story frequently tells itself; all that the writer does is to record the incidents without comment or adornment. A simple, restrained treatment is far preferable to elaboration of detail. Pathos can easily be made bathos, and humor can readily descend to cheap buffoonery.
The style of humorous and pathetic feature stories needs careful attention. Words must be chosen not only with reference to their general meaning but with consideration for the feelings which have come to be associated with them and which they therefore arouse in the reader. One word with the wrong connotation may spoil the whole effect of an otherwise well-written pathetic story. As in the structure of the feature story so in its style, no definite rules or principles can be laid down to guide the reporter. Careful reading of well-written short stories and novels will show him various methods of producing the effects that he desires.
The rescue of a small boy from drowning in a cistern would ordinarily pass unnoticed in the newspapers of a large city and might be worth a few lines in those of a small one. A reporter with a sense of humor might see something in the incident that would make good material for a humorous feature story, as did the reporter on the Chicago Tribune, who wrote it in the following form. The editor gave the story a place on the front page.
“Billy” Dyer, 2 year old son of William Dyer, owner of the Dyer foundry in Chicago, was playing in the yard of his home at 1716 North Elmwood avenue, Hyde Park, yesterday with his little sister Mary. Suddenly “Billy,” who was standing on the wooden top of a cistern, disappeared.
There was nothing supernatural in his disappearance, because the wood in the cistern cover was rotten, but it struck little Mary as being so remarkable that she lost the power of speech. She is little more than a year old, and she couldn’t talk much, anyway.
Just at this moment a peddler came into the backyard. He saw Mary gazing fixedly at the open cistern and asked her what she saw.
“Bruvver’s down there,” vouchsafed Mary, regaining her tongue and pointing.
The peddler took a look into the cistern and then seized a near-by mop. “Billy’s” head was still bobbing above the surface of the water when the peddler got back with the mop, but when he looked into the cistern again the boy slipped off the cover of the cistern, which had gone down with him, and went under. The peddler waited until the boy’s head appeared again and then he deftly stuck the end of the mop under Billy’s chin and pinned his head against the masonry.
Meanwhile the peddler had not been silent. Mrs. Dyer heard his shouts, and, gathering their portent, rushed to the telephone and called the fire department. Axel Hansen also heard the sounds. Axel has long legs. He came running.[Pg 215]
When Axel looked into the cistern a scheme of rescue immediately formulated itself in his mind. He got down on his knees and told the terrified Mrs. Dyer and some neighbors to take a good hold on his ankles. The peddler was busy holding “Billy’s” head above the water with his mop.