Stalking The Elusive Interview

by Camy Sorbello

"In order to write the article I (and the editor) wanted, I persevered, sticking to my list of questions. When he went off on a tangent, I listened politely until I could jump in and steer him back on track."

The hardest interview I ever attempted was with a Jesuit priest.

As a feature writer for a small-town paper, I have the opportunity tospeak to all sorts of people for all sorts of stories. When a local boy from a dairy farming family grew up to be ordained a Jesuit, cream of the Catholic Church clergy, it was big news.

I planned a "small-town boy makes good" type of story. I thought the title "From Pasture to Pastor" was great, but the editor's face turned pale when I mentioned it. Still, an analogy of "tending the Master's sheep" (though they raised cows and corn) seemed appropriate.

I wrote a set of questions: How did life on the farm prepare you to serve the Lord? Did closeness to Nature bring you closer to God? And so forth.

I should have known I was in trouble when he gave the homily at Sunday's Mass. All he preached about was the persecution of the Church in 16th century England, the topic of his Ph.D. thesis at Oxford University. (This to a congregation of farmers and small-town residents.)

Sure enough, when we met for the interview, I was forced to wade through bogs of obscure (to me) names, dates, and facts fresh from his Oxford research. Somehow, every question I asked reminded him of Henry VIII, England, and the persecution of the faithful Catholics. Go figure.

In order to write the article I (and the editor) wanted, I persevered, sticking to my list of questions. When he went off on a tangent, I listened politely until I could jump in and steer him back on track. I returned to earlier questions, re-worded them, and wrote down anything he said that was relevant to the topic I needed. We ended the interview with him thinking I would write all about his 16th century heroes, and me knowing different.

I managed to harvest enough snippets of "pithy quotes" from the interview to form the core of the story. But in order to fill it out adequately, I needed input from other sources. I wrote a new list of questions for local friends and family of Father Billy. Not surprisingly, they didn't wax eloquently about England and its history, but were straightforward and precise with their answers. I used their quotes to support and augment the priest's. By weaving it all together, my story was complete.

It's up to you as the writer to keep the interview on track. This doesn't mean you should be rigid and inflexible. If your subject mentions something unusual or interesting, work it into the piece if possible. But you are the one in charge. Of course, use gentility and tact as well.

When I interviewed three Kosovar refugee families who settled in my town, I became annoyed at the husband’s insistence on answering for their wives and children. If I asked a wife, “Do you miss your parents and siblings in Kosovo?" she would look to her husband for her answer. With tears in her sad eyes, she would give the correct response, "I am happy to be in America."

I knew I couldn't erase generations of Albanian paternalistic culture in a one-hour interview. But I managed to get my story anyway.

One of my favorite questions for the children was, "What do you like best here in America?" They glanced first at their father as he muttered quickly in Albanian. Then each announced in a serious voice, "Democracy!" or "Freedom!" I knew this was not first and foremost in the mind of an eight-year-old!

"Anything else you like here?" I continued.

"Pizza! Soccer! The Lakers! McDonalds! My new friends!"

Now I had the answers that would appear in the article.

Stalking any interview is like entering a jungle. You come well equipped for the adventure with pen, paper, tape recorder, and questions. Sometimes the path is clear and straight. But often it turns and twists and takes dangerous detours. It's up to you, as the leader, to get everyone back on the main trail.

The reward for your valor and perseverance is the interview, the story, and of course, the paycheck.

©2000 by Camy Sorbello

Camy Sorbello lives on a tree farm in western New York State. She returned to writing recently after 25 years in agriculture, horticulture, and retail.
When she's not stalking the elusive interview for her local paper, she writes feature articles for other newspapers and magazines. Her essays and short stories have been published in the US and Canada, and she's writing a novel set in Texas and Mexico.