NYC papers. Wow, three vastly different ways of depicting the UCC shooting at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon.
I was thrilled to see they all gave survivors top billing over the killer, by far, even the tabloids.
But one had no sensitivity to victims (in addition to clueless word about what "psycho" means. I can't believe I'm hearing myself say this about a NY Post cover, but it was stellar. Amazing job, NY Post. Thank you.
I think there should be a really good one coming from NPR, but I don't see it yet. I'll try to add it, but I'm on a flight to Chicago for my sister's baby shower. (SO happy to get out of here, and leave murders behind for a bit.) (Update: added it. And it's really interesting.)
Choice bit from The Oregonian piece: "The best way to support people who experienced the attack is to give them space and time."
And the wonderful "Haunted by Columbine" video was released this week by RetroReport and New York Times. (I appear throughout.)
You can find links to all my recent (and archive) magazine/web piece here.
I don't know if the TV shows I did will post the segments. I will try to get them, but you can try searching. I did AC360 Thursday and Friday, CBC's nightly news show Friday, and a breaking news segment on MSNBC Thursday.
And very soon, I hope (and pray) to be back off the murder beat again for awhile. This tragedy has worn on me quickly. Note this picture from Anderson Cooper 360 this (Friday) evening. One of these people is not doing well. I knew I felt that way inside. I had no idea I'd been wearing it on my face like that. Time to step back.
It was so wonderful, and so timely again on this awful day when a gunman killed at least 9 other people on at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon.
I tweeted the mini "handbook" back and started jotting down additional ideas. Unfortunately, it was a dreaded murder day, so I began shuttling between MSNBC and CNN. (I'll post links if they put the clips on the web.) In between, I kept adding ideas, and then working with my wonderful New Republic editor, Ryan Kearney. We shuttled ideas and edits back by cellphone from the makeup chair, and the green room, and I made the director very nervous typing a message through the last ten seconds of the commercial break before my spot on AC360.
There was lots of tweaking to get all the latest facts right, because ironically, as I was writing about facts being misreported, the "facts" we were citing in the piece kept changing (eg, 13 deaths down to 10, and still inconsistent reporting on whether that included the gunmen). Around 11 p.m., we posted it: A Skeptic's Guide to Media Coverage of Mass Shootings
And this new 12-minute video 'Haunted by Columbine' by New York Times andRetroReport could not be more relevant. It documents how most of the crucial facts about Columbine were misreported 16 year ago, and still with us today.
If you're not familiar with the award, it's because it just debuted last year, but with a prestigious backer and a huge payout, it's suddenly one of the most prized. The New York Times story announcing the finalists began this way:
The literary journal Kirkus Reviews has announced the finalists for its 2015 book prizes. The annual honors, handed out for the first time last year, each come with a $50,000 award, making them among the most lucrative in the literary world.
And look which book the Times chose to picture with the announcement. Nice!
I mentioned in my Vanity Fair piece on my life with Lucia that she died destitute, and sold more books in the first few weeks than she had in her entire life. (I was being careful. She probably sold more in one week than her entire life.)
It has always been a fantasy of mine that she would finally reach a wide audience, and also receive the acclaim she's due. First she hit the New York Times bestseller list, and now awards season begins. I'm giddy.
She won't get to see it, but her sons will. They are. It's having a wonderful effect on them.
I needed all those Kleenex this morning, as I expanded on the anecdote I used to end the Vanity Fair piece: the story about how she told me she loved me. There's a longer version of that, involving the death of Timothy Leary. So I looked that up as I worked on the speech this morning--had I had the realization of how profoundly Lucia's "I love you" had changed me after she died, or in the last years, while she was still alive?
I was shocked. Leary died in 1996. I'd only knew Lucia two years! And I already knew she was the one genius I would ever know intimately, and that that was the greatest gift she would ever give me.
I just went to their site, and look what's splayed across the top of it, 1200 pixels wide (at left). Nice.
And I just booked a plane ticket to Colorado around midnight. So I'll be speaking at the Boulder Bookstore event Oct. 13, at 7:30pm. Details here. (I'm not listed yet, since I've not even confirmed to them that I'm coming, but they asked, and now I'm answering.)
RetroReport is an award-wining nonprofit news org that revisits events from the past to set the record straight. I've been watching their work for quite awhile, and been really impressed. Their videos run exclusively on the New York Times.
I spent a year with RetroReport on this project. (They did all the work. I just let them come interview/film me, and helped with occasional fact-checking, etc.) I'm just amazed that they devote an entire year to get 12 powerful minutes to set the record straight.
The video does a great job in getting out the word that while Columbine is cited over and over as these killings continue, what we think we know about Columbine, even the basics, is nearly all wrong. (Not about jocks, Goths, bullying or Trenchcoat Mafia.)
I'm going to attempt Anna Karenina, finally. It involves gay soldiers, but first, the key question for all you guys: what's the best translation?
Aside from being a book I should have read years ago, Anna came up Wednesday night, at a party I almost ducked out on, but thank God I stuck it out.
It was a book launch party for Gary Rivlin's wonderful book Katrina: After The Flood. Like a goofball, I thought about asking a few friends three hours before, they were busy, so as usually, I showed up alone, as if that's going to work.
I walked in to this amazing apartment on the Upper West Side, to find more people than expected. (Fifty to seventy, maybe.) I knew none of them, including the host.
Gary and I had connected online. Same publisher, the amazing Jonathan Karp, had been critical to both our books, and Gary was nice enough to invite me. Sounded interesting. (Very similar cover designs, too, not coincidentally. I got to see and earlier version of his, which I think I like even more. Hard to choose.)
But while hosting a party is not a promising time to get to know someone.
This probably shouldn’t make me happy, but it does. Sooooo happy.
Just breaks my heart to see him give up!
It has also prompted some actual policy debate: NY Times story. I'm not sure I like the strategy of taking away garbage cans. But shocking that they have to drag 40 tons of garbage up from those platforms every day. (That must include bus stops and big stations above ground. Hmmmmm.)
Whoops. Losing focus. The rat. I love that little guy.
On a potentially related note, it occurred to me late last week that I'm getting grumpy again, and I'm way overdue on a break from this city. I love it, but it seeps into me, and I need breaks now and then. (Work trips don't help. I need to relax. That's never come easy.)
Colorado? Maybe. I've never been back since I moved away 5 years ago.
For the last several years, I've had a thumbnail pic of Dylan K in the right margin of nearly all my web pages. I have little icons there to direct readers to various pages of interest, and he's been the icon for the page on "the killers" at my Columbine Online site. (It's the site I set up to share huge masses of the evidence I compiled during ten years researching/writing Columbine.) I chose a chilling pic of him, because it was a chilling act. Seemed appropriate.
But every time I see him there, even just those few pixels, it bugs me. And since I've embarked on the campaign to disappear these shooters as much as possible—maximum study with minimum necessary recognition—I've decided to expunge his picture there.
His pix are still on the "killers" page, because that's what it's there for: for people who want to see what they looked like, how they emoted, how they presented themselves. That's important, and that's staying, in that narrow spot. But he's not going to loiter around the rest of my site.
I'm toying with a new icon that doesn't just erase him, but drives home the point that he's been erased. How about this?
That's actual size.
Let me know what you think.
Note: he still shows up on the freeze-frame image for the Columbine intro video. I have to change that in youtube somehow. I'm not sure how. I'll look into it. I'd prefer maybe something like this:
Update: A question in the comments made me realize that while I've been discussing this concept of "disappearing" killers quite a bit, it's still a new idea to most people. So my Buzzfeed piece should provide some context: Let’s Stop Naming Mass Shooters In Our Reporting. It was an early attempt, but it's a start.
I'll be expanding on some of the ideas I laid out in my tribute to Lucia Berlin in Vanity Fair. A small sample from the piece:
Lucia had contempt for bigots, homophobes, or anyone trying to sanitize descriptions. Some girls were ugly, some were whores. Some predators were gorgeous and intoxicating. Grime could be alluring. In my favorite story, “My Jockey,” she undresses her crumpled jockey as an E.R. nurse. “His boots smelled of manure and sweat, but were as soft and dainty as Cinderella’s.” The beauty enchants her, regardless of the stench—or the pain.
Lucia had an eye for beauty—she plucked it out everywhere. Devout Catholic children in an old Mission school “who trembled their morning prayers.” The playfulness of the old nuns in the same story: “loved by their God and by their children.” Lucia’s aging nuns were gleeful, because they got to teach the little kids, who “responded to love with tenderness.” The young nuns were gaunt and nervous: forced to teach jaded middle schoolers: “they could not use awe or love. . . . Their recourse was impregnability, indifference to the students who were their duty and their life.”
* It's below the grid—I'm helpless down there. Haha. But luckily, it's very close to my gym at Astor Place, so I'll find it. For you, it's very close to the NR, 46 or BDFM subway lines. The store's event listing here.)
Probably no appearance by Bobby Sneakers, sadly.
Lydia Davis, the esteemed short-story writer who wrote the book's forward, will also be speaking. You can read Lydia's piece on Lucia in the New Yorker here. And Stephen Emerson, who edited the book, and wrote the introduction (here), will also speak.
After the jump are some incredible pictures from Lucia's past, courtesy of her family, especially Jill. (Thank you!)
In the new piece, I widen out to look at what's really going on here.
Why does this all matter so much to some Evangelicals? What's the deeper anger about? What's really going on here?
Santorum was bemoaning what he saw, correctly, as the massive difference in social attitudes over the past 16 years. But to understand his/their perspective, I take you back to the period where I did a full-immersion in the Evangelical community after Columbine (enrolling in bible study at Cassie Bernall's church, etc.)
Sara Emsley always knew she wanted to join the U.S. Army, ever since she was a small child. “You can ask any of the kids I made go through an obstacle course at my sixth birthday party,” the West Point cadet recently said. She dressed up as soldier for Halloween for “many, many years,” and never paused to worry about whether the military would let a girl like her fight.
Then she hit adolescence and began to discover her sexuality. She didn’t like what she felt. Girls like that were forbidden from serving, so she denied her own urges. She couldn’t let them stand in the way of her dream.
Emsley first went to college at Virginia Tech, where she finally came out to herself and trusted others, but hid her sexuality from her peers in the college’s R.O.T.C. program. By then, the military had lifted its absurd “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, but Emsley still felt it was too dangerous to say anything. Then the U.S. Military Academy at West Point accepted her.
We've been discussing it on FB, and it occurred to me that readers don't have an accurate sense of how these rapid-reaction pieces get generated, or what we have time to think about. Luckily, two gmail threads, twitter and my iPhone recorded most of the exact times it all transpired.
7:05pm: Friends started texting/tweeting to me about it. I was taking BobbySneakers for our goodbye walk/run, which lasted an hour, and I didn't see any of this.
Around 7:30, I turned on the TV/tivo, backed up to listen to the exchange, gaped.
I started responding to tweets about it. And wondered whether I had enough to say in a piece. I started thinking about it, while BobbySneakers' dad arrived and I gathered his toys and stuff and turned him over, sadly.
My New Republic editor emailed asking if I had a piece in me, suggesting a few angles. I said yes, and started writing. That was 8:08pm, according to gmail.
I had ambitions to talk about lots of those topics discussed here, but my first order of business was just sorting out what really happened, for people who are all new to this, or for those where it's very fuzzy.
I tried summarizing, but feared my own memory could be faulty, and/or, I'd get some of it wrong or imprecise if I tried to pound it out quickly, on deadline.
So I introduced the ideas and then pulled up the Word copy of my edited manuscript and pulled in the exact passages.
At 9:16pm, I emailed a draft.
(I'd marked a spot to insert Santorum's exact quotes, and while Ryan started editing, I searched for a transcript online, found one and sent him the passage and the link. I had not eaten dinner yet, and no time to, but grabbed a piece of cold meat out of the fridge and some carrots to tide me over until we finished.
We went through about 3 rounds of light editing back and forth, mostly him raising questions, requesting sources, links and clarification. I worked through those, fact-checked a few concerns of my own, and at 11:13pm he emailed that he'd just posted the piece.
I started tweeting about it, and responding to readers. Around 1 a.m., I made/ate dinner.
It was a mad scramble just to get the piece written, readable and accurate. Not a lot of time for deep reflection. I had a lot of thoughts about the bigger picture and what this means, and I toyed with them along the way, but nothing that cohered quickly enough for me to feel satisfied that I could address it thoughtfully and articulately at that speed. I'd rather get that stuff right than spit out my first thoughts fast.
I also get frustrated at how knee-jerk some media coverage feels. But I forget what it takes to produce it. It's hard to do much more than respond reflexively at that pace.
ICYMI: My tribute to breakout bestseller Lucia Berlin & how she transformed my writing.
I thought we put that myth to bed 16 years ago, but it just keeps resurfacing. My twitter feed exploded tonight when Santorum dredged it up in the presidential undercard debate.
A taste of the piece:
Like most of the Columbine myths, the martyr story gained traction because it was based on a kernel of truth. A young girl did profess her faith in God at gunpoint, but she lived to tell about it. Her name is Valeen ...