By paulgillin | September 26, 2011 - 2:26 am - Posted in Fake News
M.E. Sprengelmeyer with first issue of the Guadalupe County Communicator

M.E. Sprengelmeyer with the first issue of the Guadalupe County Communicator

It was a man-bites-dog story.

Young newspaper reporters have typically dreamed of working their way up from a small-town weekly to a big-city daily. The title of Washington bureau chief or foreign correspondent was the pinnacle of success.

Michael “M.E.” Sprengelmeyer had those dreams as early as age seven, when he decided he wanted to be a reporter. But something in the back of his mind drew him toward the small-town roots where he and thousands of other young journalists got their start.

Sprengelmeyer got to the summit, becoming a national reporter and foreign correspondent for the Rocky Mountain News. When the Rocky abruptly shut down nearly three years ago, he went searching for his childhood dream: To run a community weekly.

Strange Quest

It seemed a strange quest for a reporter who had been near the top of his profession, but Sprengelmeyer had caught the community itch at a young age. “At 17 I saw a movie called Milagro Beanfield War,” he said. “There was a character who ran a small newspaper and I always wanted to see what a newspaper could be if I ran it.”

Sprengelmeyer’s career had been anything but small town to that point. A graduate of the prestigious Northwestern Univerity journalism program, he had worked at a variety of small- and medium-sized papers before landing at the Rocky in 1999, a month before the Columbine shootings. His career advanced quickly. Within two years he was sent to the paper’s Washington bureau, where he arrived just before the Sept. 11 attacks on the Pentagon. That job morphed into a military beat, overseas assignments and a coveted job as a presidential campaign reporter.

Guadalupe County Communicator front page

But even as he was setting up the Des Moines, Iowa bureau for the Rocky to cover the 2008 presidential race, he kept searching for the opportunity to take over a small-town weekly. When the 149-year-old Rocky suddenly went up for sale in 2009, he was as surprised as anyone. But instead of wringing his hands, he stepped up his small-town search. “I was hunting for newspapers to buy within a week,” of the Rocky’s closure, he says.

When the paper shut down, he hit the road, eventually landing in the beautiful but impoverished community of Santa Rosa, N.M., on the staked plains where the Pecos River crosses historic Route 66.

The local Guadalupe County Communicator served up the usual local fare of local government meetings. The paper had a circulation of less than 2,000, but Sprengelmeyer saw potential. Despite its economic distress, Santa Rosa has a disproportionately large base of businesses on Rte. 66. Sprengelmeyer negotiated the purchase, leaving him with just $1,700 in the bank. He told the story of his quest on the blog of former Rocky publisher John Temple.

Changing the Model

Like many local weeklies, the Communicator served up coverage of local government meetings and photos of winning high-school football teams, but Sprengelmeyer wanted to take it to another level. “I kind of had a chip on my shoulder about the closure of the Rocky and I wanted to send a message about what a newspaper could be,” he says.

His first move was to shut down the paper’s website. “Community newspapers have a captive geography. As long as you can keep everyone within 10 miles reading your piece of paper, you can deliver value for your advertisers,” he says. “The Web gets people from all over the world, but you can’t tell an advertiser they’re going to walk in and buy avocados at his variety store.”

Drew Litton cartoonHe then started investing. He hired a veteran daily photographer on a freelance basis, contracted with local stringers and engaged professional cartoonist Drew Litton. The first issue of the Communicator under Sprengelmeyer’s hand featured a giant photo from the county fair and the first editorial cartoon the paper had ever run. It was a shock to locals, but also a signal that the paper had turned a corner.

You can’t easily find high-resolution images of the Communicator online, but you can get a sense of the layout, story selection and headlines from thumbnails in the paper’s Facebook album. The look-and-feel is big-city all the way, with a clear emphasis on local government, citizen advocacy and people-oriented features. The headlines and story selection are cut from the major metro mold.

Pleasant Surprise

“The reaction has been incredible,” says Sprengelmeyer. While some residents miss the point-and-shoot photos of Little Leaguers on page one, most have responded positively to the tougher coverage of town government, crime and local regulations. The Communicator won seven state journalism awards its first year. Sprengelmeyer’s unusual odyssey has landed profiles in The New York Times, CNN and other national media outlets.

M.E. Sprengelmeyer on:

Hyperlocal journalism

“I hate the word ‘hyperlocal’ when connected to journalism.  Journalism is journalism. The term ‘hyperlocal’ has taken on a connotation that it’s something less when the community is involved. We might try to be very, very local, but it’s professional content.

“There are some things going on in California right now where they’re making their papers less relevant at a local level. They’re taking away the one franchise the newspapers have, which is being a trusted institution. The clock tower says ‘This town is owned by the Oakland Tribune.’ I wouldn’t have combined the Tribune into something bigger. I would have split it into four neighborhood papers.

“I’m not in an ivory tower. I’m in a dirt bunker. They need to look at the little guys and think of what they can learn from us, and we need to learn from them.”

Going Online

“I do not understand why papers on a small scale are doing websites at all, and I don’t understand why a lot of metro papers believe it’s better to compete against the Internet when what they control is their geography. When newspapers were experimenting with their websites you could understand it. But now their click-through rates are going down because people can go directly to a pet store on the Web instead of the local pet store. Why would we want to go from monopoly status to competing with every pet blogger out there?”

The Role of the Local Publisher

“I came here with a mentality of showing the world what we can do with printed journalism. It’s evolved into realizing that this community has one of the highest poverty rates in the country, and the things I could do to shake the politicians into focusing on the right issues and helping the community are more important than that.”

Scrutiny of local officials has ruffled a few feathers, but the newcomer says his outsider status and commitment to fairness has kept the pushback to a minimum. “You smooth out the feathers when you write an accurate, fair story,“ he says. And the Little League photos still run in the Communicator, but no longer on page one.

More importantly, circulation has grown to more than 2,000, or nearly equal to the population of Santa Rosa. Its Facebook page, which was started by a local enthusiast and is now maintained as a joint effort, has been liked more than 1,100 times. Circulation growth has been largest among native Santa Rosans who now live elsewhere. “I’m real proud of that, because we’re a town in economic trouble, where kids grow up, go off to college and settle elsewhere” says Sprengelmeyer. “Now they’re re-connecting with their community.”

Advertising business has grown steadily, if not spectacularly. The publisher’s philosophy is to invest most of the profits back into the property. “When you start cutting expenses to match revenue, you’re on a backwards slide,” he says. A small staff handles advertising sales.

And each week, the new Communicator becomes more embedded in the community. Sprengelmeyer still works seven days a week, but the hourly load has gradually declined. “I’m not banking a lot, but each edition pays for itself and I have enough left to pay my rent and fix my car,” he says.

“I won’t become a millionaire, but that wasn’t the point. The first year was about surviving. The second year was about expanding. The coming year will be fun. This started as a fancy way to spend my life savings in six months, only we’ve gone on for two years. It’s the best thing I’ve done and it’s still left me excited about what we can do next.”


To subscribe to the Communicator, e-mail your info to comsilvercom@plateautel.net and cc: ersthap@hotmail.com. Order a full year’s subscription and send a check for $30 (U.S. delivery only) to The Communicator, P.O. Box 403, Santa Rosa, NM 88435.


Update 10/29/11: The Communicator won 26 awards and “Best of Show” among small weekly newspapers in the 2011 New Mexico Press Association/Associated Press Managing Editors’ awards.

By paulgillin | September 16, 2011 - 10:57 am - Posted in Fake News

USC journalism professor Judy Muller goes back to her roots in small-town weeklies and writes an op-ed for the Los Angeles Times that concludes that “there are thousands of newspapers that are not just surviving but thriving.” Muller points out some of the unique challenges of publishing in a small community, such as having to unmask wrongdoing by the town councilor who may be your brother-in-law. She also made us laugh with this example of a typical item on the local police blotter: “Man calls to report wife went missing 3 months ago.”

It’s a fun and inspiring read, and would be even better if it were true, but Muller makes an essential journalism error in not providing any factual evidence to support her “thriving” claim. In fact, weekly local newspapers have been taking it in the neck for years. We long ago stopped tracking news of local newsweekly closures because the volume was overwhelming. Back in 2009, Journal Register Co. closed scores of weekly holdings in one fell swoop, and Gannett and others have followed. Weeklies were some of the hardest-hit properties in Media News’ recent consolidation. Reports of other weekly shutdowns hit our Google Reader every couple of weeks. We’re frequently asked how many local weeklies have closed but we know of no one – not even the amazing Erica Smith – who keeps count.

Which isn’t to take anything away from the many dedicated journalists who put up with long hours and low wages to publish the thousands of small-town weeklies that still survive. Local publishing has never been a lucrative business to begin with, and the pressure is only getting worse as low-overhead online operations like Patch – not to mention bloggers and independent Web publishers – nibble away at their local advertising base. We admire the dedication of these publishers and are inspired by stories like that of M.E. Sprengelmeyer, a daily journalist who found fulfillment running a 2,000-circulation weekly in Santa Rosa, N.M. after losing his job in the Rocky Mountain News closure in 2009 (see video). Muller celebrates Sprengelmeyer in her op-ed, but also uses a word we hear a lot when discussing this topic: “exhausted.”

Small-town weekly publishing is a lot of things: rewarding, fulfilling, responsible, important and endangered. There’s one thing that it clearly isn’t, though: thriving.

Boston Globe Splits Web Presence

The Boston Globe has come up with a novel twist on the paywall concept: It’s launching a paid portal that “offers an innovative, inviting reading experience that is the only gateway to all of the Globe’s journalism.” BostonGlobe.com is the new online companion to the 139-year-old daily that provides the full contents of the print edition as well as bonus features. It will be free through the end of this month and $3.99/mo. thereafter. Home delivery subscribers get access for free. The website will be formatted for reading on a variety of desktop and mobile devices, although few details were provided.

Boston.com, the regional site that the Globe launched in partnership with several local media outlets in 1995, will remain free. It will focus on daily sports coverage, online features and lifestyle information, and also include five stories from the daily print edition and summaries of other content that can be read in full on BostonGlobe.com.

In positioning the bifurcated strategy, Globe Editor Martin Baron described Boston.com as a site for the common man with BostonGlobe.com as its more erudite sibling. “BostonGlobe.com is essentially purely journalistic, and Boston.com is more of a town square where you get news and information, but you can also buy tickets to events and exchange information and opinions with your neighbors,’’ he said. Boston.com will continue to be advertising-supported.

The Globe was actually an early innovator in hyperlocal journalism. When Boston.com was launched as a partnership between the Globe and several local print and broadcast outlets, it broke the then-emerging newspaper mold by focusing on regional coverage rather than delivering an electronic version of the print product. However, as partners dropped out of the venture over time, Boston.com increasingly became the online face of the Globe, eventually getting to the point that articles about Israel and Japan routinely led the home page. With the new strategy, the Globe appears to be returning Boston.com to its roots.

Miscellany

If you’re still on the fence about buying a tablet computer (we took the plunge last month and are enjoying the experience), you can get one at a really good price if you also buy a subscription to two Philadelphia newspapers and a website. The Philadelphia Media Network, which publishes the Inquirer, the Daily News and Philly.com, has teamed up with three local sponsors and the French electronics company Archos to sell Archos’ Arnova 10 G2 Android tablets preloaded with gobs of Philadelphia news for $285. The advertised price of the tablets themselves is as low as $99, or about half what they cost on eBay. The catch is that you have to buy a subscription to three news apps as part of the deal. We suppose there are enough Philadelphians, who can never get enough Eagles coverage, to sell out the 5,000 units being offered on Phillytablet.com.

 

By paulgillin | September 15, 2011 - 6:49 am - Posted in Fake News

We were contacted by the Washington-based International Center for Journalists last week about our opinions on the future of the newspaper industry. They published a nice Q&A which starts below and continues on their website.

Since 2007, veteran technology journalist Paul Gillin has been tracking the demise of newspapers and highlighting the ones that thrive on a website called Newspaper Death Watch.

In just the last month, Gillin’s site reported on the demise of the Bay Area News Group, which consolidated 11 newspapers into two surviving publications, costing about 120 people their jobs. These are just a few casualties among many as the print industry learns to adapt in the digital age.

IJNet spoke with Gillin about the current woes of print publications, evolving business models and whether the lives of newspapers are at stake.

IJNet: What kind of newspapers have been failing?

Paul Gillin: Regional newspapers, especially those with less than daily frequency, have been taking the hardest hit. Hundreds of weeklies have failed over the last three years; no one to my knowledge has an accurate count.

Read the rest of the interview on the International Center for Journalists website

By paulgillin | September 7, 2011 - 4:10 am - Posted in Fake News

Susan Petroni, Framingham PatchWhen Tropical Storm Irene plowed into the New England coastline a week ago, Susan Petroni (right) was ready. Armed with a computer and a cell phone, she set out to mobilize the citizens of the largest town in the U.S. to help her cover the story.

Petroni live-blogged throughout the storm, encouraging her readers at Framingham.Patch.com to be her eyes and ears. Readers snapped cell-phone phones and e-mailed them to Petroni to post on the Patch site. Locals flocked to the Framingham Patch page on Facebook to update each other on power outages and roads blocked by fallen trees. Petroni stayed on the phone with town officials to update her audience on disaster preparedness warnings and clean-up plans. For residents who had lost power, the Framingham Patch Twitter feed kept updates coming to cell phones.

In the days that followed, Susan Petroni’s online outposts became rallying points for citizens trying to find out when power would be restored or whether the opening of the school year would be delayed. Much of this information came not from her but from each other. Facebook was a quicker way to find out where the lights were coming on than the overwhelmed officials at the local utility.

The same scene played out at dozens of Patch sites up and down the east coast, demonstrating the power and agility of a new type of media we might call “curated citizen journalism.” It’s a model that relies upon the news judgment of professionals like Susan Petroni, who is an accomplished and award-winning journalst, and the contributions of concerned citizens who want to be part of the action.

Like many online journalists, Petroni left the daily newspaper grind for Patch in order to gain scheduling flexibility and spend more time with her young daughter. She posts five to seven stories on a typical weekday and a couple on Saturdays and Sundays. Like any good Metro reporter, she covers the important local government meetings and any news that would be likely to make the regional newspaper. However, most of her posts are short and few are earth-shaking.

About the Editor

One other Patch innovation that strikes us as novel and worth emulating: the “about the editor” page. Mainstream media typically sanitizes these profiles to limit them to professional accomplishments, but Susan Petroni’s page is far more personal. It includes disclosure of her religious beliefs, political affiliations and even opinions on some local hot-button issues. “We promise always…to adhere to the principles of good journalism,” the profile states. “However, we also acknowledge that true impartiality is impossible because human beings have beliefs.”

This approach is both endearing and practical. It gives the newsgathering operation a personal face while also heading off the constant bickering that takes place in newspaper comment sections over the political leanings of the editors. You may not like Susan Petroni’s politics, but at least you know what they are. And what’s wrong with that?

A typical Patch story might update residents on how long traffic will be disrupted by a sewer renovation program or tell how school bus routes are being changed. A weekly police log update tells where crime was a problem in the last week. Not Pulitzer Prize-winning stuff, but these are the stories that matter to the daily lives of the people who live nearby.

Curated Citizen Journalism

Patch encourages citizens to contribute to the effort without mixing their contributions with those of the single professional editor and assortment of freelancers who make up the core of the typical Patch site. Bloggers from the community get their own digital sandboxes, and comments are clearly distinguished from reported stories. People are free to post news reports to Facebook or the forums, but news only makes the main news feed after it’s been vetted by a pro.

Patch disclaims reports from the community, but also encourages them like crazy. There has been little problem with error or abuse, says Danielle Horn, Associate Regional Editor for Patch Metrowest Boston. The key is to know when it’s appropriate to turn over the reporting job to the citizens and when a pro needs to step in.

“If someone says the power is out on their street, then the power is probably out,” Horn says. “We haven’t run into any situations where people have posted news that is clearly incorrect. [Community newsgathering] is working out great.”

Patch has a thin staffing model, with typically one full-time editor anchoring each region. “Each editor knows his or her community like the back of their hand,” says Horn. The meat and potatoes of a Patch site is the little details that matter in residents’ everyday lives: library programs, school sports and street closings. “We want to be a resource for information that can enhance people’s daily lives,” Horn says.

Addicted

We’ve developed a mild addiction to our local Patch site, and we even contributed some photos to the recent storm coverage. Why? Because we were asked. As our photos began to show up on the gallery, we found ourselves mildly intoxicated by participating in storm coverage. We were also gratified to get a thank-you note from Petroni herself. At the nearby Boston Globe, e-mails to editors generally disappear into a black hole, and phone calls are rarely returned.

Patch, which now boasts more than 850 hyperlocal sites nationwide, has been criticized for maintaining a sweatshop atmosphere and for paying its editors meager wages. In our brief conversation with Petroni (corporate policy dictated our interview request be directed to a regional editor), she said the flexible working conditions were one of the best parts of the job. Horn noted that while Patch editors are expected to produce content seven days a week, they have considerable latitude in how they do it.

Essential Truths

The jury is still out on whether Patch will succeed, but we believe the experiment is already proving some essential new truths:

The Internet rewrites the economics of news. Our town could never support a daily newspaper, but it can pay the salary of a single editor with no overhead other than a PC and a couple of cameras. Thanks to thousands of layoffs at newspapers nationwide, quality journalists can be found who will work for modest salaries in exchange for workplace flexibility.

Hyperlocal is instinctively appealing. We long ago stopped reading our regional newspaper because so little of its coverage related to our local community. In contrast, the daily Patch e-mail is packed with news that impacts our daily lives, mundane as some of those issues may be.

Empowerment is intoxicating. Patch is drawing lines that enable the community to participate in newsgathering while keeping a firm editorial hand on the tiller. As we waited for Internet service to return following the storm, we monitored the Patch Facebook page from the local library and found it to be a more timely source of information than the statements of utility officials.

In our town, and in hundreds of towns like it, Patch is filling a gap left by the collapse of traditional media. The question is whether its business model is sustainable, and a lot of people think it isn’t. We hope AOL will stick with this venture and innovate beyond the traditional advertising-funded model. Even if the Patch business fails, it has laid a foundation upon which others can build.