Remember high school history class? Remember how much you hated it? Remember why? Names and dates, nothing but names and dates. You wanted teachers to explain why events happened. How countries became strong. Why wars started. You got a bunch of numbers and locations.

Now that we’re all grown up and working in the news business, we’ve become the teachers, with a fantastic opportunity to present the first draft of history to thousands, or even millions of people. And what do we do? “A 45-year-old Pasadena man is behind bars tonight.” “The 38-year-old Malibu-based actor pleaded not guilty to drug possession.” “The 27-year-old Nantucket native won the marathon in record time.” Names and dates all over again.

We get a few precious seconds to tell a story. We should fill that time with the most compelling, the most critical, the most “grabbing” information we have. Is there anything LESS compelling than a burglar’s birthday or a fire chief’s street address? And yet, day after day, in every newsroom in the country, well-meaning writers are churning out meaningless numbers and road signs, instead of spending those critical seconds telling more about what happened and why.

Stories pockmarked with ages and locations also flunk the “best friend” test, a critical measuring rod for clear, conversational, spoken English. Would you talk this way to your friends? “See ya later, I’m going over to visit Grandma. The 81-year-old widow isn’t feeling well.” “Hey, did you hear? They arrested a 35-year-old West Haven man for the liquor store robbery!” If you spoke that way to friends, they wouldn’t hang around very long.

We’re not cops filling out dry reports, and we don’t write “for the record.” Yes, we have to be factual and accurate, and our work does get archived, so a “record” is, in fact, created. But is that our main purpose? No, we write FOR INTEREST. Every word, every fact, every phrase needs to reach out and grab people, and show them why this story matters. There’s no time or wiggle room for anything else. In a split second of lowered interest, a remote gets clicked and the audience is gone.

Age is irrelevant in most news stories. So are home towns. They add nothing to the essentials of the story. Dropping them can make your copy sound better, and give you more time and space to include information that really matters.

Now for the exceptions.

Nobody cares when a 25-year-old robber holds up a 7-11. But if that robber is EIGHT years old, everybody cares. His tender age is a critical part of the story, and it should be included. Just not this way: “An eight-year-old boy is facing serious charges tonight”. If age matters enough to get mentioned, it matters enough to be played up. “A young robber who could barely see over the counter is accused of holding up a convenience store. Ricky Smith is only eight.....”

The same holds true for locations and home towns. If they’re important, say so. If they’re incidental, who needs them? Stay focused on what’s crucial, what’s conversational, and what makes people want to watch.

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