Re-entry: Transitioning from TV to print

BY JOHN THOMSON

Years ago, fed up with shifting priorities, budget cuts and cancellations, I transitioned from writing and producing documentaries and news programs (CBC, CTV, and Discovery Canada) to writing non-fiction copy for magazines. I was ready for a change and besides, I was already familiar with the basics. Researching and interviewing? No problem. Writing to deadline? Of course. Working with an editor or supervisor? Check. I was ready for my Walrus byline. Or so I thought. It’s all storytelling, right? Well, sort of.

My first commission was working on a forestry industry newsletter. I approached it as I would a television piece, visualizing the elements and how they would flow together. I thought about pacing, playing with long and short sentences to create a rhythm that would lead the reader to the punchline.

But it wasn’t enough. My stories were factually correct but flat and uninspiring. What was wrong? I consulted Professor Google and poured through the self-help magazines Writing and Writer’s Digest for guidance. The Oxford comma, what’s that? Finally, I took night school courses in creative writing and writing for the web. That broadened my journalistic background, but learning the lingo was only the first step.

The television mantra is, show, don’t tell. As a television writer I found the act of condensing hours of information into a coherent thirty-minute nugget of digestible content to be the most satisfying part of the process. And rewarding too for having wrestled the beast to the ground in a short period of time. But in the world of factual television, words are often secondary, used as paste to link images and sound bites together. Without video and audio at my command, I had to relearn structure and context and express myself completely through my words. I had to drop TV-speak.

My television voice was objective and impartial. It had to be. It was a condition of the job, but it didn’t reflect my personality. Since I like the cheeky observations of Bill Bryson, I started to inject some humour into my new, non-television pieces. As time progressed, I learned to speak in other voices, too—breezy or academic—depending upon the publication.

To be honest, I found the transition from one medium to another not as simple as I thought it would be. Television, however, did strengthen my persistence and resolve—necessary attributes when meeting a daily or weekly deadline—and it was sheer perseverance that helped me overcome the vagaries of the publishing world and build a freelance clientele.

Recently, a novelist friend suggested I branch out from reportage into memoir. “Yikes,” I said. “An endof-life thing?” He replied, “No, a creative non-fiction thing.” It’s an intriguing thought; writing creative non-fiction would force me to dig deeper creatively and stylistically. Poised on the edge of yet another beginning in non-fiction, I must ask myself, do I have the chops to take my writing to the next level?

I’m reminded of an early CBC interview with Mordecai Richler. When asked about his writing process, he said he retreated to his office eight hours a day, five days a week whether he felt like it or not. If the muse didn’t strike him, he would re-read his books, or someone else’s books, and immerse himself in the world of words. What discipline. What commitment.

Thanks to my television background, I have the stamina and the discipline. And I have newfound writing skills. And if the muse doesn’t strike me? Will I follow Mordecai’s lead and re-read my earlier pieces for inspiration? I’m more likely to play Sudoku than pore through old works for half the day, but I like his attitude. What the hell, sign me up. Full steam ahead.

Originally trained as a reporter, John Thomson spent his early years as a network news and current affairs producer. His writing career began as a spin-off from his TV work and today he writes profiles, features, and op-ed pieces for a host of print and online publications. Find John at woodfall.journoportfolio.com.