Author Interview
Kurt
Streeter
Odyssey of Healing
Los Angeles Times
Author Comments on "Odyssey of Healing"
I've used first person in a handful of long narratives for the Los Angeles Times over the last two years. Though some in the newsroom question its use, I'm pleased to report that the feedback I've received from readers has been overwhelmingly positive. I think our readers are ready for newspaper writing that moves beyond the traditional; certainly when a reporter inserts him or herself into a story, even a bit, it's pushing past the norm.
There were a few things I was shooting for in the story about Marwa. Partly, it was a matter of attribution. I'm telling readers that there's a very good reason we know certain scenes happened in certain ways—because I was there. First person simply underscores this fact. In the story I witnessed the surgeries, the trip to Universal Studios, the back-and-forth between Marwa and her caretakers, and many other scenes. The first person signals to readers that they can rest easy, the reporter was on hand to take it all in.
Now, I could have written things like "a reporter witnessed the surgery," or simply written from the perspective of the unseen omniscient observer, but I think that putting the "I" in stories is a touch more intellectually honest. When I read things like "a reporter witnessed," or "the man looked at a reporter," I tend to wonder why newspaper culture seems so hesitant to come out and tell it like it is. The "reporter" is the person who wrote the story, and the reader can figure this out pretty easily. I feel there are a lot of opportunities in our stories to be straight forward and use first person. Not for every story, of course, or even for most stories, but there are times when we can and should take the leap. Why not? Particularly when our readers see first person used more and more in other media: in film, both fictive and documentary, and on television and in magazines.
I introduced myself as a witness in the third section of "Odyssey of Healing." The reason was pretty simple: It was the first scene I actually witnessed. The story begins with the explosion that changed her life, and I wasn't there, of course. In the second scene she arrives in Los Angeles, and I wasn't there, either. I recreated both scenes from multiple interviews. The third section includes the scene in which I witnessed Marwa being examined by Dr. Miller. I slipped myself into the narrative, telling readers that the doctor agreed to "let me accompany him as he tried to undo the damage the shrapnel had done." My goal was not to be intrusive, to ease into my readers' awareness. I would be the trusty guide, subtly directing the reader through her journey.
I also used the third section, and my introduction, to help readers get a sense of what made this girl special to me. She's a person with real spark and true grit, attributes that have allowed her to survive war and loss. I noted this, and I let readers in on what I saw through my observation of how she held herself. It was her posture that I noticed first, a posture that gave me a sense of her character. I wrote the following: "It was devastating to see a child so badly disfigured, but I loved her spine-straight courage." Sparse, simple and, I hope, subtle. I let it stand at that and then tried my best to show her courage—and her fear—through the telling of the tale.
A heartbreaking thing happened to me when I was reporting this story: My father struggled through serious heart problems and died. In the story I touch on his illness and death in a few scenes. I did this to show the connection between Marwa and me—we were both struggling through the loss of a parent—and to show that despite the pain and suffering she had gone through, she never lost her ability to empathize. She cared about what I was going through, just as I cared about her ordeal. Again, there was some gnashing of teeth in the newsroom about this choice. But a good portion of the readers I heard from, and there were many, told me they enjoyed the fact that I opened up about my own troubles. Some wished for even more.