I get this, because it’s different and, I’d argue, harder. Because you’re trying to reach an audience that exists, but isn’t there.

I had to learn this when I started doing television after several years at CBC Radio. It was more of an adjustment than I expected. I was already a performer and comfortable in front of crowds: teaching, public speaking, the lead in my high-school musical. But what I could do naturally in person wasn’t coming across on camera, at first.

Then, things clicked—and I changed from being a reporter they were nervous about putting on for a live segment, to one they wanted “live” early and often. This wasn’t just experience; I figured something out.

Focus in, focus out

My top piece of advice for communicating on camera is to keep your focus out, not in. I’ll walk you through what that means, but it’s all in the eyes.

I learned this by watching my own work, and noticing there were moments when I saw a person telling me what she knows, and others where I felt nervous for or bored by the person on screen.

It’s subtle—too subtle to see in these grainy screengrabs, though these are from “before” and “after” live hits. In my early hits, I was looking at the camera, but my focus wasn’t there, because I was thinking about what to say next.

To connect through the camera, you have to shift your focus from inside your mind, to somewhere in front of you, reaching the audience. (I know, this almost sounds like yoga instructions; consider this the “pull your navel to your spine” moment of on-camera training.)

If this still feels too abstract, bear with me and take a look at that very famous Gotye video.

Painted limbs aside, check out his eyes in the first verse (say 0:35-0:44) compared to the second (1:04-1:12). You can see the transformation, from a man lost in thought to one talking to someone.

Most of us won’t be performing break-up ballads or conveying heartache in our on-camera appearances, but it’s still a good example of the physical change of focusing in versus focusing out.

How to do it

We focus out naturally when we’re telling a story to a good friend. If you teach, you can probably do the same with a whole classroom. So, pay attention to the way your face and eyes flex and engage when you’re comfortable and talking to a real person.

The trick is to conjure that same non-verbal communication when there’s a big scary lens in front of you.

A key part of that is really knowing your stuff—so you can be in the moment and not trying to recall your next line. It will take practice, but when I train people I’ve been amazed how quickly they can see their own focus in/focus out shift—and what a big difference it makes in their on-camera communication.

Even then, focusing out may feel like acting at first. That’s okay. You’re not acting like a different person; you’re acting like yourself when you know something and want to tell someone about it.

If you look nervous, the audience will be nervous for you. But if you look like you’re interested in what you’re saying, there’s a much better chance the audience will be interested too.

What an easy idea to say yes to.

I live in East Vancouver, and pretty much my favourite present to give the kids in my life is a good book. So, when I heard that the clever folks behind Rain City Chronicles were holding a book drive to benefit the Writers’ Exchange which helps East Van kids?

Yes.

(And you can say yes too; they’re collecting new kids books until November 30 in these spots.)

It’s been really fun to see which books Vancouverites are donating, and why. Musicians, reporters, support workers, funnymen, a baker, a librarian, and many more are sharing the stories that shaped their imaginations growing up.

It’s hard to single out one — thumbs up to Tammy for her shout-out to Lowly Worm — but here’s my pick. Yet another Dr. Seuss, but one of his lesser-knowns: On Beyond Zebra.

A letter he never had dreamed of before!

At the start of the story, the narrator introduces us to a young boy, named Conrad Cornelius o’Donald o’Dell (his “very young friend who is learning to spell.”)

Conrad is quite proud of himself for learning the entire alphabet, which, as everyone knows, ends with Z. But no, says the narrator:

“In the places I go there are things that I see that I never could spell if I stopped with the Z.”

You can see where this is going. The rest of the book describes all the other letters, and the fabulous, creepy or odd animals whose names we can now spell with this extended alphabet.

As a kid, I enjoyed the rhythm of the language as he introduced each creature — though I’ll admit, the Sneedle (“a terrible kind of ferocious mos-keedle”) kind of freaked me out.

Even now, some of their descriptions still run through my mind from time to time. Like during Folk Fest, when the waves at Jericho beach are filled with people bobbing around, I always think of the Floob-Boober-Bab-Boober-Bubs (“who bounce in the water like blubbery tubs”).

But lots of children’s books have good rhymes and funny words.

I picked this book because it’s about exploration, and breaking rules — not the big kind of don’t-hurt-people rules, but the small kind that limit what’s possible.

I love writing, and get paid to do it. And while news reporters are generally discouraged from creating our own alphabet, playing with language is still one my favourite parts of communication. So I want to pass that on.

Mural on the Curious floor of the River Market, remixed.

I spent an interesting day at a Digital Storytelling Unconference last weekend, out at the Network Hub in New Westminster’s impressive River Market. [Thanks to Raul and Denim and Steel for the ticket.]

One of the most surprising things for me was how many different professions it brought together — game designers, educators, urban planners, etc. — all with their own cultures and skills around storytelling. So, concepts like detail and tension in narrative that are well-trod in journalism were being explored with new eyes and vocabulary.

Meanwhile, I got my mind a little blown by things I know very little about but find fascinating — like storytelling and interactive dialogue in videogames (in talks by Todd and Deirdra, respectively).

In all, it felt like the beginning of many more conversations to come.

Interactive audio + video?

I was lucky enough to facilitate a discussion about interactive video and audio online; what works and where it might go.

This is something I’m currently thinking about at work, on two fronts.

First, we create a lot of audio and video every day (for radio and TV, of course) and only a fraction of it ends up on our site in a way that it can be found, shared and discussed, because of the effort it takes to translate the radio and TV into text-based stories. For me, when I report a story and it doesn’t end up online, it feels as though it never happened. So how could we post more, well?

Second, I wonder whether the audio and video we do post could be more interactive, or evolve somehow for the digital realm.

Across the web, it seems the main interactivity for audio and video is commenting and pressing play. That has given us a different (time-shifted, shareable) delivery system for audio and video — but what about new ways of storytelling online?

In our short brainstorm, it’s not a problem we solved, but here’s where the discussion went.

Linear v. interactive

The group agreed: it can be harder to commit to watching a video than reading the same amount of information in text online, because you can’t move at your own pace.

So, to click on video or audio you need a reason to buy in. Such as:

• Enough text you want to know more. Stephen recommends the Khan Academy, for offering lectures that have been transcribed (by volunteers) so you can scan to find the parts you want to watch.
• A strong enough recommendation from someone you trust — which social media is pretty good at. For example, I happily watched an 8-minute video about the Higgs Boson, because I was curious and it was suggested by the right person.

The favourite online interactives that people mentioned are interestingly ones you can zip through, at-will:

• Follow the Titanic by the National Post (via Jason)
• Thermostat instructions from Nest (via Tyler)

Interactive playback

One model I find inspiring/intriguing is annotated video, like this piece on data journalism created under a Knight Journalism Fellowship at Stanford.

It’s a big project; 54 minutes with eight annotated chapters. But what’s cool — and could be appropriated by much smaller video projects given the right code — is offering related information (bios? maps? charts?) for each piece of the video. The information appears in tabs below, as you watch.

 
 
I’ve considered how the same thing could be done with audio, too. But I usually listen to radio programs when I’m not near a screen, so I’m not sure how well that would work.

Interactive choice?

Other sessions at the Unconference piqued my interest on what’s to come for games-based storytelling. Most of the examples were either fictional or educational, so I’m curious if anyone knows about news “games” created on deadline to check out.

Pre-interactive

Also of note: the speed and transparency encouraged online have already led some broadcasters (like CBC’s Spark) to gather input before they actually record tape, to find out what listeners want to ask of experts on willpower or data visualization or what have you. Maybe you know of other types of pre-broadcast interactivity?

Post-interactive

Dale suggested remixing the traditional newscast into a sort of curated playlist. He’d noticed how his news interests align more with individual reporters he follows on Twitter, than what’s delivered to a general audience, so he’d want to watch those beat reporters’ picks from the ‘cast. Maybe the future will hold different remixes of a news show?

A wishlist?

Maybe someone will build a cool drag-and-drop annotated video widget? That would be neat. Otherwise, I’m eager to hear any suggestions or examples of cool audio and video use online — no matter how complicated, aspirational, or non-journalistic.

This time, SoundCloud. It’s designed for sharing music, and that’s how I encountered it. But I’ve been thinking about other uses for the timed commenting feature, which lets you link your comment to any second of the track you choose.

Many comments on tracks are pretty, well, boring: “sick beats!” “nice one m8″ etc. But I wonder about the potential of the timed comment as a storytelling tool. A type of annotation for audio on the web, where the online audio isn’t just delivered differently from old-school radio but also has an added interactive or explanatory dimension.

Some possibilities:

• tag an interview clip, with a link to the person’s website, or the raw interview
• tag dated information with a link to updated information
• if the service supported it, tag a verbal description to a picture or map

So I gave it a go, uploading one of my recent stories (albeit a longish one, 7+ minutes) about crowd-sourcing money for scientific research in the recent #SciFund Challenge. I added some comments with updates on how much money the projects received, and links to learn more.

Does it work? I’d love to hear from you.

As a radio addict, I’m not sure it does. I usually listen when I’m on the go (not at the screen) so I’m not sure I’d get much out of my favourite shows annotating their stuff. Maybe I’d want to see it on shorter pieces? On a topic I’m researching? Something educational? Hmm….

Don’t get me wrong, I have huge appreciation for the power and intimacy of radio (in whatever delivery form) without any bells and whistles. Still, I think this could be cool ground to explore.

Update:
I got some useful comments on Twitter, so I thought I’d pull those in:

The happy bilingual posters that signal it’s almost hot dog time at CBC Vancouver. (Andree Lau)

Experiment number one is a learning exercise with Storify—a tool that Openfile, CBC Community and many others use well all the time.

I’d never tried it, so wanted to practice on something low-key before trying it on breaking news. Happy to report it’s very easy.

So here, curated tweets from CBC Vancouver’s Hot Dog Day. Which many, without irony, call the best day of the year at CBC.

Hot Dog Day, and the fans go wild.

Every June, volunteers at CBC Vancouver entice employees away from our cubicles for free hotdogs, chips, veggies and conversation. Even those who generally eschew processed meat learn to love CBC’s Hot Dog Day.

Storified by Lisa Johnson · Sat, Jun 23 2012 11:38:46

The picture I tweeted moments after the game ended.

“You were there?” Yes, right next to the first car on fire.

And then, wandering the downtown core, calling into the station as another car got swarmed, the police moved in, hundreds streamed down an alley, looking for what might happen next.

I’ve been thinking a lot the Stanley Cup Riot this week, not just because the playoffs started again, prompting more discussions on policing and crowd control.

Last night was the RTDNA Awards, where our CBC team was honoured with several regional awards for our coverage. So were other outlets in the city, so the acceptance speeches were filled with memories of what we all saw and felt that night.

I was excited for the playoffs last year. But 10 months post-riot? Not one bit.

My city transformed, for better then worse

Now, people who love hockey will say that attitude means I’m not a “real fan.” Which I freely admit.

Granville Street after the 2010 Olympics gold medal game, Feb. 28 2010.

I wasa fan of what was happening on the streets, much more than the ice. It rekindled a bit of that spirit from the Olympics, the year before.

The city, downtown especially, felt like a special place to be. People came out of their normal niches and commutes to gather together. The pavement was transformed into public space.

During the Olympics, that was all capped off with the impromptu street party after the men’s gold medal hockey win.

That whet my appetite, and I’m sure many others, for another crazy but good-natured civic celebration.

As CBC’s Stephen Quinn recalled on the radio this week about the outdoor playoff parties: “It was fun, until it wasn’t.”

Smoke rising, bottles flying

And that turning point came around 8:02 p.m., June 15, 2011.

Not green men, but green kids at what started as family-friendly playoff parties.

I was already outside the CBC with a television camera and other reporters, gathering comments from disappointed fans. Then, over the sea of people on Georgia Street, bottles started flying, aimed at the massive public viewing screen.

We saw smoke across the street, but didn’t see where it was coming from. We linked arms and pushed through the crowd, getting sworn at for our CBC logos. As we reached the other side, we saw that first overturned car, just smouldering.

I felt a wall of heat as it burst into flames.

That’s when I tweeted the picture at the top of this post. I didn’t know how to describe it. Do I name this, a #riot? Maybe, but this is just one car. Are these #Canucks fans? That debate continues today.

So I just wrote: “Georgia street right now.” It lacked keywords or hashtags, but it was true. And shared widely, with many adding comments: “sad” “OH MY GOD” “holy crap” “insane” “disappointing.”

It was a little of all of those things, especially disappointing. But also surreal.

Witnessing downtown that night, it felt like either that memory of happy Olympic crowds was make-believe, or this was. But they were both real, and now we have to live with it.

I had another go with the food price data, using one of the new tools I’ve been playing around with.

I still have a tonne to learn, and it seems like there is a lot of innovation in this area. No one tool is perfect but after reading a bit on the Guardian’s Data Blog I’ve been playing around with Tableau Public (for maps and interactive charts) and Google’s Fusion tables (for maps). Google Chart Wizard seems wonky to me; when I’ve entered data—even for a simple bar graph—it built the graph but not accurately. Probably I don’t know how to work it yet. As for the other tools, I’m learning as I go.

Anyway, here’s a second go at the food prices chart, with updated (to Dec. 2011) food price data from Statistics Canada. (Here’s the link to the newest data, which may have already been updated since I built the chart.)

Any more suggestions on data visualization tools?

Click through to see the chart…

Change in average food prices in Canada

The latest data available show food prices for each October for 2007-2011. So, I calculated percent change for the past year, and the past four years. Because the x-axis is so far down, I popped on a couple of the 1-year numbers to make it more clear.

Source: Statistics Canada, as of Dec. 3 2011

And income?

For most people, are not growing at the same pace. For example, in B.C. the average hourly wages went up 2.3% in the past year (not adjusted for inflation).

Some groups did much better: managers’ wages on average went up 7%, certain industries saw wages go up 12%. Others did worse: young workers (15-24) saw their average hourly wages decrease.

Today is the Open House and Food Bank Day at CBC — the 25th year that CBC in Vancouver has raised money for B.C. food banks so they can provide for people who need a little help.

This generally happens in December. It always makes me think of a day in November. In 2004, to be precise.

I was working as CBC Radio’s reporter in Nelson, and our assignment desk was expecting the annual report on child poverty in our province. So, I was asked to go talk to a family, with children, who were struggling.

An articulate and brave single working mom with a young son agreed to talk to me on the radio. She invited me into her apartment while she made dinner for the boy; I remember her stirring yoghurt into some organic macaroni and cheese to add a little more protein for him. She told me she got help from the food bank, at times, and healthy protein was hard to afford.

It’s not a dramatic story, but I think of them every time we talk about food banks. About one in three people who rely on food banks in B.C. is a child.

Food prices are on the rise too. That’s something we all sense in our grocery bills, but it’s really striking when you look at the numbers, especially for staples.

Here are changes in food prices, from Oct. 2010 to Oct. 2011:

• Potatoes – up 24%
• Carrots – up 20%
• Coffee – up 19&
• Flour – up 17%
• Eggs – up 13%

[Data from Statistics Canada, calculation by me.]

I did that story seven years ago and child poverty in B.C. is still on the rise, and the worst in Canada. We did the story again this past November. And next year?

I have to stress, a scientific background is not necessary — anyone can ask the same kinds of questions. But, for me, the muscles I exercised in science help. I imagine it would be similar for someone with a background in economics or the law, who can skip a couple of steps en route to finding interesting information in those fields.

Meltdown in the media

Still from an animated graphic showing ‘exposed’ fuel rods. (CBC)

After the earthquake in Japan caused damage to reactors in Fukushima, there were a lot of scary headlines about radiation.

I remember waking up to a news that the nuclear fuel rods were “exposed” and in danger of melting down. I was tasked that day with explaining to our audience, an ocean away, what that meant.

Step one: what does “exposed” mean? Many of the early reports were not explaining that bit, leaving the audience to wonder whether the nuclear fuel was exposed to the outside world—meaning the reactor was totally compromised. So what was happening?

The officials were slow to release information, the aerial shots were not clear, and I had no idea what the inside of a nuclear reactor looked like (despite growing up in nuclear towns).

So, I needed the help of people who know about nuclear reactors, would pick up their phone, and be willing to talk to me. Happily, I found two: one at UBC’s TRIUMF laboratory, and one a former neighbour (and nuclear engineer) at the Hanford nuclear facility in Washington State.

They explained that “exposed” meant the water that is supposed to be covering and cooling the rods inside the reactor was boiling off. Unless they could be cooled, the rods could create so much heat they’d melt the metal holding them apart, and fall, and keep getting hotter. A complete meltdown was possible, but considered unlikely. The impact of a meltdown would be mostly local; the fuel would literally be melting out of the reactor onto that site. Very different than an explosion.

The situation was not good. But it also wasn’t yet as dire as it had sounded. The rods were still inside the reactor, the reactor’s containment vessel was still in place, but possibly leaking. We created graphics to show our audience what was going on.

Here are videos with my stories from that week (March 14 | March 15). If you prefer text, here’s a good explainer from Richard Black, the BBC’s smart Environment Correspondent.

Numbers in context

Putting radiation levels in some kind of familiar context. (CBC)

The numbers on that story were also a challenge. If we talk about the size of a fire, or the height of a wave, people can imagine that. But what is a millisievert—and what does a certain level of exposure mean? I had no idea.

These risks are unfamiliar, which tends to make them more scary. The challenge is to put them in context.

I compared the radiation exposure at the plant to things people are more familiar with. I dug up charts and checked them with experts, and found that the radiation had been very high, but fell to a level between a chest X-ray and CT scan. (Note, I mispronounced millisieverts.)

None of these “digging” examples are particularly sexy, or investigative exposés. In fact, as I learned more, the story became less sensational, but more true. And I think our audience has an appetite for that.