ERIC J. GREENE
From time to time in this space, I will attempt to engage you, the readers, in a conversation about the journalistic practices of the Battle Creek Enquirer.
Specifically, I'll write about how the newsroom works, how we compile stories, why certain stories appear on the front page, why we sometimes misspell names and so forth.
I want to have such a conversation for two reasons: First, as a reporter at heart and editor by title, I can never know my audience well enough. Second, newspapers are grappling with a decline in relevance and trust, in part because newspapers don't always explain themselves well enough so readers understand why we do what we do.
Today's topic involves the Enquirer's
coverage of communities outside the immediate Battle Creek area. Many
conversations with readers during the years, and several pointed ones
in recent weeks, lead me to believe there are good stories we're
missing in smaller, out-of-the-way places like Galesburg, Hastings and
Delton.
If I had a magic wand or vast riches, I'd have a
reporter stationed in each of those towns, along with a dozen others
across the region, so we don't miss a thing. Alas, I have no wand and,
the last time I checked my accounts, wealth wasn't the word that came
to mind.
So here's the reality. The Enquirer has but nine
full-time reporters, each of whom is charged with covering a certain
geographic area or topic, including crime, politics, schools, business,
health, entertainment, Marshall, Athens and general assignment.
With
the exception of the reporters assigned to cover Marshall and Athens —
who cover those communities in addition to having many other
responsibilities — all other reporters are Battle Creek-centric. That
is, they sometimes report stories from outside the city, but generally
stick to Battle Creek.
Why? Because that's where the vast
majority of the Enquirer's readers remain. One of the first rules you
learn in journalism is people like to read about other people in their
community. So, at a time when we have no resources to spare, we focus
our efforts on the core of our readership, which is the people,
businesses, events and goings-on of Battle Creek.
Like many
newspapers across the country, our traditional circulation and
advertising are ebbing. That translates directly into shrinking
resources in the newsroom, which is not immune from cuts at a time when
newspaper profits, here as everywhere, are declining.
Complicating
this is the newspaper's dramatic shift, during the past decade and
especially in the past two years, toward an Internet-based platform.
Case
in point: We used to have staff reporters dedicated to covering Albion,
Coldwater, Galesburg and Hastings and regularly attending public
meetings in Springfield, Emmett Township and Pennfield Township.
However, those resources in recent years have been redirected to other
newsroom initiatives, particularly the expansion of our Web site,
battlecreekenquirer.com.
You might think, if only we reported
more in certain communities, that would increase circulation enough to
justify the expense. Yet past efforts doing precisely that have failed
to generate enough of an increase. Years ago, we even had a regional
editor and attempted to maintain regional bureaus. Over time, however,
we learned those costs outweighed the return in readership.
But
don't think we've abandoned the communities outside Battle Creek. It's
true we're covering them less, but we're still covering them, albeit in
a just-the-highlights kind of way. We rely on readers who call us with
tips and ideas — thanks, by the way, and keep 'em coming — and to a
team of freelance reporters who regularly attend school and government
meetings in places like Albion and Homer.
We're also offering
readers everywhere the opportunity to upload their own stories and
photos to our Web site with GetPublished, portions of which are printed
in the paper.
SPEAKING OF SHRINKING
No, it wasn't your imagination Tuesday when you picked up your paper and thought it looked smaller.
Indeed,
it is physically smaller. Each page is actually an inch narrower, the
result of the Enquirer's attempt to save money on ink and paper.
I jokingly call it the "Pocketbook Enquirer," probably to my editor's dismay, because it just feels so small in my hands.
A word of advice to all butchers and birders: You might now need to use two pages to wrap your fish and line your bird cage.









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