What I learned about crime reporting via Twitter

The Twitter trial was exhausting.

But the response was worth it.  That’s what I’ve found is usually true in this business. The most difficult reporting brings the best rewards.

I had to take a week’s vacation after the capital murder trial of Ted Burnett just to rest up and refuel.  After weeks of microblogging details of the brutal death of a 14-year-old girl, I didn’t have much left to even keep this blog up.  But thanks to all those who followed my coverage on Twitter and those who may patiently return to this blog to learn what happened, from a journalist’s standpoint.  You all keep me going.

Here’s some of the feedback I received from readers:

• “I’m addicted …”
  
  
• “I found myself checking in a couple of times per day just to read your postings.  Due to my schedule, I do not always get to spend time each morning reading the paper and rely on online news during the day.”
  
  
• “This was yet another great use for 2.0 tools!”
  
  
• “I very much wanted to follow the trial and when I came across your Twitter page I was delighted.  I thought at first it might be annoying to have to continually refresh the page to get updates, but found I could easily get work done and come back every 10 minutes or so and read through your updates.”
  
  
• “I loved being able to press the refresh button on my browser every minute for new ‘tweets.’ While I am emotionally involved in this case, I was not able to take a week off work and join my family friends in the courtroom. With twitter I am able to virtually be in the court room and know all of the little details that I had not previously known about.”

 
I had started using Twitter during jury selection, as a solution to some problems we’d had with trying to file live updates during the trial. We wanted immediacy, and we got it.

One day, I cut and pasted all my “tweet” updates into a traditional story file.  It measured 80 inches.  Now, I don’t think anyone would have read an 80-inch story from the newspaper on this trial, as compelling as it was. My editors certainly wouldn’t have run a story that long.  But what I found is that people will read an 80-inch story, given to them a paragraph at a time, 140 characters long.

In addition to Twitter, I also produced multimedia:  audio slide show such as this one of a co-conspirator explaining the killing of Chelsea Brooks.

Between the text descriptions from the courtroom over Twitter, and the multimedia, we were able to give people a feeling of being there that I had never before been able to do in my career.  This trial had a “press room” in the law library of an adjoining courtroom. 

I kept a Macbook Pro in there with Soundslides and Audacity, so I could edit audio files and organize photos on breaks.  I had the photographer on duty download photos to a memory stick I wore around my neck. That saved time.  Most days I was able to complete everything - including writing a story for the morning newspaper - at a decent hour.  The tweets during the day were really my notes that I used to fashion the newspaper story.

It wasn’t perfect.  I had my share of typos, filing live with no copy desk backup.  But no one complained about the occasional misspellings. 

Twitter had outages, sometimes during the most dramatic parts the trial.

Here are some lessons I learned that may help other reporters wanting to “tweet” live events:

• Keep a “cheat sheet” handy of key dates, addresses and names of those involved.  It will save time to keep looking them up in your notes.
  
  
• Don’t assume anything.  If you’re not sure you totally understand what you’re hearing, save that information until you can ask for further explanations.
  
  
• Remember, it’s easier for people to follow narrative stories.  Try to establish what the story is and filter information so that it fits within the storyline.  This was easy in a trial, because certain witnesses were there to tell what happened.  Other parts weren’t as easy, such as forensic evidence. With that, I had to work harder to maintain a story that wouldn’t lose people.
  
  
• When the event takes a break, tell people.  I always added a tweet that said “court is in recess for 15 minutes,” so readers wouldn’t keep refreshing the page, hoping to find information.
  
  
• Pay attention to the environment around you.  Don’t just report what people say.  Look for reactions and moods. 

• You will catch mistakes, most of which you’ll notice right as you hit “send.”  File corrections immediately and mark them as such.  It will keep your readers’ trust.

• Make time to rest, especially if it’s going to be an event such as a trial that lasts for days, even weeks.  You will be exhausted.

 
You may even find Twitter improves your writing.  When you have to stay within 140 characters, you're forced to write tight.

Update:  We got a big morale boost during the trial from the American Bar Association, which contacted us for this article in ABA On-Line Journal. The article gave us immediate credability with judges and lawyers around the courthouse, which will probably help us continue using this tool.