How Immersion Journalism Pushes Me To Be a Better Writer

How Immersion Journalism Pushes Me To Be a Better Writer The first book-length work of immersion journalism I can remember reading is Susan Orleans  The Orchid Thief.   You might know it because it was later adapted into the delightfully quirky Spike Jonze / Charlie Kaufman film  Adaptation, starring Nicholas Cage. But while the film is an exploration of writers block and the creative process via GIPHY the book upon which it is based is an examination of a man obsessed with a rare ghost orchid, and of the  flower-selling subculture he became a part of. When I first read the book, I was envious of Orleans subject, who cared more fully about something than I ever had. And I was envious of Orlean because, for a time, she was able to become a part of that world. I read  the book over and over again, unable to get enough of the story, the writing, the technique. From that point on, I couldnt get enough of immersion journalism. I pored through the anthology that first introduced me to Orleanâ€"a collection of interviews with various journalists on their processâ€"and I worked my way through some of their books, including Ted Conovers Newjack  and Jon Krakauers well basically anything by Jon Krakauer. I read longform pieces in the same genre, in  GQ  and  Esquire  and  Vice. It was a form of nonfiction writing I admired, and a form I wished I could write myself. But such writing requires large commitments of time, and I couldnt see how Iâ€"with a husband and a toddler and a home to attend to, making barely enough money to pay my portion of the billsâ€"could ever, logistically, escape into someone elses life. So I continued to exploit my child for money on a mommy site and I continued to write personal essays and I continued to write listicles about orgasms and libido because that is what I do. As I read more immersion journalism, however, over the course of the next 10 or so years, I saw my writing shift. I began looking outward rather than inward. I began inching closer to the type of writing I most revered. Late last year, Ted Conover published a how-to book for budding immersion journalists called, fittingly enough, Immersion.  When I read it, I felt that familiar longing to create something much bigger than myself to  experience  something much bigger than myself. And while I still find myself tethered to a home office, to a toddler, and to a handful of regular writing and editing gigs, I do  what I can. I may not be in a place in my life where I can travel the country with Cirque du Soleil or go through a sex educator training or follow the thread of a persons life for months upon months upon months. But I can add books like  The Crossing  or  Cork Dork  to my TBR. I can spend an afternoon reading  Without You, There Is No Us. I can learn about other cultures through a book like  Gang Leader for a Day. And I can learn, by osmosis at least, how best to reveal other truths. How best to place spotlights upon them. Some of these lessons in technique eventually  find their way into how I approach my own writing. Some of themâ€"and this is no small thingâ€"just make for some damn fine reading. Sign up for True Story to receive nonfiction news, new releases, and must-read forthcoming titles. Thank you for signing up! Keep an eye on your inbox.