Several of us on the social media team at the Monterey Bay Aquarium are former journalists, and we sometimes get a little weepy about the demise of “the story” as we once knew it.
You know: the traditional article, built on the classic “inverted pyramid,” anchored by an insightful angle, supported with exhaustive research and incisive interviews, all woven deftly into a narrative that fairly glistens with cleverness and irresistible turns of phrase.
Bid that goodbye. These days, when we talk about “a story”—at least in the social media world—it’s a mere snippet of information, about one sentence long (or 140 characters, in the case of Twitter), usually accompanied by a photo or video. Like the one shown on this page.
“That’s a story,” you say? “A 10-word sentence and a cute photo?” ‘Fraid so. Get used to it.
A stink, a grating noise, a quality of light
Stories, in the realm of social, are like bits of an impressionist painting. They evoke a feeling, supply a vicarious experience, or simply transport the reader from their drab cublicles to some place they would rather be at 10 a.m. on a Monday morning. With apologies to our local bard, John Steinbeck, such “stories” are less a narrative than they are “a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.”
Examples: the other day I posted a photo of the sun-draped Aquarium, waves crashing close by, with these simple words: “It’s Friday. Like this post if you’d rather be here right now!”
The result: 17,000 likes, and counting. It may have been only 12 words, but it evoked a strong feeling and carried the power to transport people from their normal lives—if only for a few seconds.
Constant accountability
So does this mean the end of journalism as we know it? Of course not. I like to think of it this way: we’re merely trading the long form for haiku. It’s no less transformative in its effect. Just shorter, that’s all.
You might think, since I come from the traditional world of print journalism, that I would regret this insurrection against real writing. But let me set the record straight: I actually like it. Compared to the bad old days, when we would push our print story out into the void and wait patiently as letters to the editor snaked their way through the U.S. mail, today’s “stories” deliver the kind of feedback you get when you accidentally drop the hair dryer into the bath. It’s right now, and occasionally quite painful. If your story missed the mark, you know it—within about two minutes.
On the other hand, if you hit a homer, it sails straight out of the park and into the surrounding suburbs. You know that, too, immediately. In social media, we live in a sometimes unsettling environment of constant accountability.
However, when it comes to the redefined story, there are still a few rules to live by:
These peeps have no patience. One sentence is about all the social media mind can process on most mediums. Okay, maybe two.
Pictures tell a story. Metrics tell the tale: great writing won’t go far without an equally great image to accompany it. Try posting a text-only status update to Facebook sometime. The silence of your fans will be deafening.
Words still matter. Images carry the day, but the most beautiful photo in the world won’t generate likes if the words aren’t captivating. These two things work in concert.
Embrace every medium. One “story” in social media can travel far in a multitude of mediums, including Facebook, Google+, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and Pinterest. Think of it as a form of recycling.
Last, the old story ain’t dead. Despite everything I’ve said here, the longer form story can still succeed if it’s done right—like our tale of the midnight rambler. If the writing glistens, it will still garner great traffic, a fact that warms the cold hearts of old journalists—like me.