On Wednesday 1 Sep 2010 I was pointed by The Guardian's front page to an article on the New York Times website about Andy Coulson, the former editor of the News of the World, which contained some pretty extraordinary allegations.
Mr Coulson, was, at that time, the Prime Minister's Director of Communications.
I thought it was a big story, yet not many other people seemed to think so. Certainly I remember being surprised at how little interest there was in making a big deal about it at network level.
I asked various people why they thought no other newspaper (apart from Private Eye which had been banging on about it for moths) or broadcast organisation thought the Guardian or New York Times story was that big a deal.
I was variously told that it was perhaps because it was an "old" story, or too "media" or "villagey" (shorthand for Westminster village, the little political bubble inhabited by lobby hacks, MPs and the rest) to be of interest to the public.
Yes, but.... I thought... these are serious allegations about someone at the very heart of government. It's in the public interest. I've seen lobby hacks getting in a froth about far duller stories - why not this one?
So I thought, well... I think this is a serious story. I am a journalist. I have a BBC radio show. Why don't I do something about it? So I did.
I wrote to every MP in Surrey asking them if they would let me know their thoughts about Andy Coulson's continued employment as David Cameron's Director of Communications. With the resources I had, it's all I could do.
Surely one of them would read the New York Times article and say "actually, this is new information, it does look a bit odd - perhaps Mr Cameron should have a think about this."
I suppose, in a way, I thought it would be mutually beneficial to give them the opportunity to come on air and say something. We could discuss it, they would sound reasonable, and I would get a line (and a local angle) on a story I thought was quite important.
I wrote to all 11 Surrey MPs via email.
Maybe some of them were worried about what the whips would think if they went on the record. Maybe some of them hoped it was a situation that would go away if everyone ignored it. Maybe they thought the sort of person the PM employs is none of their business. Maybe they thought it wasn't all that important what Mr Coulson may or may not have been up to as the editor of the News of the World. Who knows? Not one of them replied.
But as I said, at the time, not many journalists seemed to think it was worth bothering about either.
.
Journalist, broadcaster and author of The Great Post Office Trial and Depp v Heard: the unreal story
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Saturday, 9 July 2011
I want to work in radio Part 1 - Simon
Rather excitingly, this has turned into a three part series. Start here. Links to parts 1 and 2 are at the bottom of this post.
This is Andy, but let's call him Simon, because this blog post isn't really about Andy.
I met Simon earlier today. He wants to get into radio.
Simon is 23, more or less the same age I was when I was trying to find my first paid job in the media. Simon is a student, working in student radio at the University of Surrey.
Simon made the effort to find me on twitter, start a conversation, and eventually ask if we could hook up. Fine. He wants a job in radio, I work in radio.
Simon's student radio station is GU2, which is situated about 200m from BBC Surrey. In two years of working at BBC Surrey, Simon is only the second student to approach me with a view to getting on in the industry.
I set up a meeting with the first person after he contacted me on twitter, but he cancelled our meeting, because he "had a lot on" that day. I said that was cool - he could get back in contact to set another date. He didn't.
So Simon came to BBC Surrey and I gave him the tour. I asked if I could have a look round GU2 student radio. It was exactly as I expected. Ten year old radio desks taped together with chewing gum and love.
We went for a drink. I asked him if he could have any job in radio, what it would be. The answer: Zane Lowe's.
I once wanted Steve Lamacq's job, so I could see where Simon was coming from.
When I wanted a job in radio, in 1996, the BBC was expanding at a hell of a lick, and commercial radio was in its pomp. It was easy - people were recruiting, and I wasn't an idiot. I was in a very lucky position.
Things have changed in the last 15 years. Very bright people who have been bitten by the radio bug can't get a job.
The BBC, as far as I am aware, is shrinking, not recruiting. Commercial radio is... I don't know where commercial radio is, as the only commercial stations I listen to are LBC and TalkSport. Wonderful success stories, but not ideal for someone who wants to be the next Zane Lowe.
So what to tell Simon?
Having come across the World's Most Jaded Radio Manager very early in my career, I resolved, from the very start, to be as positive as possible about my industry and what it has to offer.
Every person I have met since, every person who has shown a genuine interest in getting into radio, I have tried to help to get on in some small way.
It felt different with Simon. Here was someone who loved his music (which makes it difficult to forge a career in commercial radio), who had no interest in being a journalist (which makes it difficult to forge a career in BBC local radio), telling me that he was trying to get his demo together with a hope of getting a shot at 6 Music, or something.
Lovely, bright, intelligent guy, but what sort of career will he have if he doesn't become the next Zane Lowe, or Lauren Laverne, or Shaun Keaveny, or Marc Riley?
How many presenting jobs are there in radio for people who love music, which can actually pay a living wage? 50? 100?
So I told him. I told him he was more than welcome to come and shadow one of my shows. I told him I was on nodding terms with two reasonably powerful agents in music radio, and I would send an email on his behalf, if his demo was up to scratch. I told him that he was doing all the right things.
But that at the same time, I couldn't help thinking his sideline as a successful gig promoter and club DJ in Guildford would stand him in far better stead in the future. And so I told him he might be better off pursuing a career in that area.
Should I feel bad about that? Looking at it as a numbers game, has Simon got a hope of making a good living in radio?
I'm not an embittered hack - I love my job to bits, but I'm one of around 800 people in the UK who have a breakfast time radio show. There aren't that many of us.
I hope Simon doesn't listen to me. I hope I'm so out of touch with the way radio is recruiting that there's a massive future for someone like Simon. I love radio, and I want to see it popular, ground-breaking and successful, both commercially and within in the BBC, and I hope that Simon is one of those people who will make that happen.
But maybe I did the right thing. And when, at the age of 40, Simon is a successful club/festival promoter with money in his pocket, a decent pension and a once-a-week session show on BBC Wherever/Heart FM, he will look back at our meeting, and say something along the lines of "Wallis, fetch me some more scotch".
Until then, and in the interests of helping out... if you can use someone with quite a bit of presenting, producing and editing talent, someone who really loves his music, who has no interest in becoming a journalist, but who desperately wants a job in radio, give me a call. I'll pass Simon's details on to you. You already know what he looks like, and that he's really called Andy.
There's more:
I want to work in radio Part 2 - Route into Radio
I want to work in radio Part 3 - Marsha's advice
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Lady Gaga ate my Hamster
Been reading some fascinating blog posts about content farms and SEO and all that. I had no idea.
If you have any interest why and how you come to read the things you do on the internet, please do click on the above links.
Thanks to @briancathcart for the latter and some other nice person on twitter (sorry - forgotten who) who linked to the former. Both blog posts are excellent, if lengthy, reads.
If you have any interest why and how you come to read the things you do on the internet, please do click on the above links.
Thanks to @briancathcart for the latter and some other nice person on twitter (sorry - forgotten who) who linked to the former. Both blog posts are excellent, if lengthy, reads.
Monday, 18 April 2011
Danny Baker is alive and kicking
Before Christmas Danny Baker announced he had got "a pretty mouldy diagnosis", and henceforth would be an intermittent visitor to the airwaves whilst undergoing chemotherapy and radiotherapy (Danny: "Yes radiotherapy; can you beat it?").
A world without Danny Baker would be infinitely poorer - he has inspired so many people to attempt to become radio presenters, and continues to do so. We as an industry should be grateful that Danny is a one-man recruiting service for our medium.
I'm listening to Danny's first show back on BBC London right now. So is David Hepworth, James Wickham, Jon Moonie and many tens of thousands of other people who love the man dearly. It is effortlessly, shambolically, wonderful.
Danny started his show with Stanley Holloway's My Word You Do Look Queer - a paean to other peoples' perceptions of your own illness. At the end of this he opened the mic to say "And that, is the story so far", before launching the Beatles' Get Back on us (refrain: "Get back to where you once belonged").
If ever there's an elephant in the room, Danny will mount it, and then within five minutes have it performing tricks, nuzzling up to you or charging you down, usually within the same sentence. This means the rather difficult subject of his own illness became a source of fascination and joy.
One of the first anecdotes described the gifts he'd received from many thousands of well-wishers (to get an idea of how loved he is, read Danny Kelly's piece about the effect of being associated with the great man). Danny thanked everyone for the books and films and pictures and records and made a point of saying he had read every card and every letter and was immensely buoyed up by them. He couldn't help singling out a curious gift from a chap who worked in the City. Said chap had sent him a cheque for £2000 pounds with a letter saying how he appreciated that illness or no, there were still bills to be paid and hoped the money would help in some way.
Everyone in the studio was suitably impressed by this rather touching gesture. Danny quickly repeated that it meant no more to him than all the other gifts he had received, the books, the films, the records, the pictures, before suggesting, on reflection, it obviously meant more than the £500 cheques he'd been sent.
Later discussions revolved around his guaranteed Sympathy Sony. The Sony Radio Academy Awards are radio's Oscars equivalent. They take place in May and Danny is nominated for two this year (neither in the non-existent Sympathy category). Danny was speculating that they must be gearing up to give him a Lifetime Achievement Award as part of the Sympathy Sony package and eventually ended up deciding he should have delayed his comeback until the night of the Sonys, stayed behind the scenes all evening, and when they announce he's won an award, come charging out of the kitchens in a bath chair.
One genuinely good thing has come out of Danny's cancer. Well, genuinely good for me, anyway. Danny said on his show that he was so bored by his enforced absence that he's finally succumbed to twitter, where you can find him writing as @prodnose.
Unlike George Michael's slow and rather painful journey to understanding what twitter is about, Danny is instantly one of the funniest people on there, and if there is any sports writer able to top his 4 tweet analysis of yesterday's incredible 1-1 draw at the Emirates, then please tell me.
For those who weren't listening/watching, Arsenal (managed by Arsene Wenger) scored in the 8th minute of injury time to go 1-0 up through a penalty. It should have been all over, but Liverpool (managed by Kenny Dalglish), won a penalty in the 12th minute of extra time and got the equaliser and the draw. How did Danny write it up?
Call from Arsene Wenger. He feels he's not taken seriously because of his heavy accent. In France apparently, he sounds "Just like Harry".
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59688294929276928
Keep thinking Arsene has hung up but its just he leaves long depressed pauses. I keep saying "Anyway..." but he doesn't take the hint.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59690652648222720
Apparently AW waited outside ref's room for an hour then found it was broom cupboard and ref had gone. Try to disguise my laugh as coughing.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59691232510742528
Finally get rid of AW when Kenny D. calls. He's giggling hard. Had I heard about AW and the broom closet? I say yes but he tells me anyway.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59692334798995456
Now I wouldn't wish cancer on my worst enemy, let alone one of my all time heroes, but if it has the effect of making Mr Baker's genius a touch more accessible, then it is true that every dark cloud does indeed have a silver lining.
God bless you Danny, I'm very glad you're back.
.
A world without Danny Baker would be infinitely poorer - he has inspired so many people to attempt to become radio presenters, and continues to do so. We as an industry should be grateful that Danny is a one-man recruiting service for our medium.
I'm listening to Danny's first show back on BBC London right now. So is David Hepworth, James Wickham, Jon Moonie and many tens of thousands of other people who love the man dearly. It is effortlessly, shambolically, wonderful.
Danny started his show with Stanley Holloway's My Word You Do Look Queer - a paean to other peoples' perceptions of your own illness. At the end of this he opened the mic to say "And that, is the story so far", before launching the Beatles' Get Back on us (refrain: "Get back to where you once belonged").
If ever there's an elephant in the room, Danny will mount it, and then within five minutes have it performing tricks, nuzzling up to you or charging you down, usually within the same sentence. This means the rather difficult subject of his own illness became a source of fascination and joy.
One of the first anecdotes described the gifts he'd received from many thousands of well-wishers (to get an idea of how loved he is, read Danny Kelly's piece about the effect of being associated with the great man). Danny thanked everyone for the books and films and pictures and records and made a point of saying he had read every card and every letter and was immensely buoyed up by them. He couldn't help singling out a curious gift from a chap who worked in the City. Said chap had sent him a cheque for £2000 pounds with a letter saying how he appreciated that illness or no, there were still bills to be paid and hoped the money would help in some way.
Everyone in the studio was suitably impressed by this rather touching gesture. Danny quickly repeated that it meant no more to him than all the other gifts he had received, the books, the films, the records, the pictures, before suggesting, on reflection, it obviously meant more than the £500 cheques he'd been sent.
Later discussions revolved around his guaranteed Sympathy Sony. The Sony Radio Academy Awards are radio's Oscars equivalent. They take place in May and Danny is nominated for two this year (neither in the non-existent Sympathy category). Danny was speculating that they must be gearing up to give him a Lifetime Achievement Award as part of the Sympathy Sony package and eventually ended up deciding he should have delayed his comeback until the night of the Sonys, stayed behind the scenes all evening, and when they announce he's won an award, come charging out of the kitchens in a bath chair.
One genuinely good thing has come out of Danny's cancer. Well, genuinely good for me, anyway. Danny said on his show that he was so bored by his enforced absence that he's finally succumbed to twitter, where you can find him writing as @prodnose.
Unlike George Michael's slow and rather painful journey to understanding what twitter is about, Danny is instantly one of the funniest people on there, and if there is any sports writer able to top his 4 tweet analysis of yesterday's incredible 1-1 draw at the Emirates, then please tell me.
For those who weren't listening/watching, Arsenal (managed by Arsene Wenger) scored in the 8th minute of injury time to go 1-0 up through a penalty. It should have been all over, but Liverpool (managed by Kenny Dalglish), won a penalty in the 12th minute of extra time and got the equaliser and the draw. How did Danny write it up?
Call from Arsene Wenger. He feels he's not taken seriously because of his heavy accent. In France apparently, he sounds "Just like Harry".
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59688294929276928
Keep thinking Arsene has hung up but its just he leaves long depressed pauses. I keep saying "Anyway..." but he doesn't take the hint.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59690652648222720
Apparently AW waited outside ref's room for an hour then found it was broom cupboard and ref had gone. Try to disguise my laugh as coughing.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59691232510742528
Finally get rid of AW when Kenny D. calls. He's giggling hard. Had I heard about AW and the broom closet? I say yes but he tells me anyway.
http://twitter.com/prodnose/status/59692334798995456
Now I wouldn't wish cancer on my worst enemy, let alone one of my all time heroes, but if it has the effect of making Mr Baker's genius a touch more accessible, then it is true that every dark cloud does indeed have a silver lining.
God bless you Danny, I'm very glad you're back.
.
Saturday, 12 February 2011
The Making of What's Up at the Post Office
For the last three months I've been working on an investigation into the Post Office. Regular readers of my tweets will be aware of, and possibly fed up with, the number of times I have mentioned this since the investigation was broadcast on Monday.
It was only after all the stress of getting it to air (last minute re-writes and edits, interventions from the BBC's internal Editorial Policy dept, our lawyers, the Post Office's lawyers etc) that I realised there was no point just hoping the story would have an effect - I needed to set up a permanent easily-accessible resource which collated all the information about the investigation, and the response to it.
You can find all that in my blog post What's Up at the Post Office? It includes the TV piece, the radio discussion, a full transcript of the TV piece, relevant quotes, how the story came my way, and the extraordinary response the broadcasts provoked.
I am deeply indebted to a whole bunch of people for getting the investigation so far. Thanks to:
Davinder, who brought me the story, has been having a very tough time. His mental health has suffered as a result of what he and his wife have been through. Yet his commitment to getting me the information I needed has been incredible.
Issy Hogg, lawyer for Seema Misra and Jo Hamilton, has been a mine of information.
My superiors at BBC Surrey and BBC Inside Out South, who immediately recognised this was a massive story and channelled serious resources at getting it to air.
Jenny Craddock and Jon Valters at Inside Out for cheerfully attacking the tedious investigative work whilst I got the fun part of interviewing people and fannying around on camera.
Nicci Holliday and Mark Carter at BBC Surrey who pulled together and got the radio scripts legal led.
Tim Ross, the BBC lawyer who went over everything with a fine toothcomb, and then went over it again after a late statement from the Post Office arrived on his day off, shortly before broadcast.
Alan Bates at the Justice For Subpostmasters Alliance.
Ben Goldacre and Richard Wilson for their wise words post transmission. Melissa Wilde for the Manchester Evening News story link.
Matt Deegan, whose knowledge of the Dark Arts and continued sponsorship of important bits of my online presence is something I hope to pay him back for one day.
Chris Cooke and every friend, colleague, ex-colleague and contact who has taken the time to watch/read the story and spread the word...
....and finally, every single subpostmaster and subpostmistress who helped us with the research for the programme, appeared in it or contacted us subsequently. I urge to you to read some of the stories I've been sent in the last week. Some of them are heart-rending.
In order try and have a few hours with my family this weekend I'm going to have to leave this story alone for a bit. But by all means get in touch if you want to.
.
It was only after all the stress of getting it to air (last minute re-writes and edits, interventions from the BBC's internal Editorial Policy dept, our lawyers, the Post Office's lawyers etc) that I realised there was no point just hoping the story would have an effect - I needed to set up a permanent easily-accessible resource which collated all the information about the investigation, and the response to it.
You can find all that in my blog post What's Up at the Post Office? It includes the TV piece, the radio discussion, a full transcript of the TV piece, relevant quotes, how the story came my way, and the extraordinary response the broadcasts provoked.
I am deeply indebted to a whole bunch of people for getting the investigation so far. Thanks to:
Davinder, who brought me the story, has been having a very tough time. His mental health has suffered as a result of what he and his wife have been through. Yet his commitment to getting me the information I needed has been incredible.
Issy Hogg, lawyer for Seema Misra and Jo Hamilton, has been a mine of information.
My superiors at BBC Surrey and BBC Inside Out South, who immediately recognised this was a massive story and channelled serious resources at getting it to air.
Jenny Craddock and Jon Valters at Inside Out for cheerfully attacking the tedious investigative work whilst I got the fun part of interviewing people and fannying around on camera.
Nicci Holliday and Mark Carter at BBC Surrey who pulled together and got the radio scripts legal led.
Tim Ross, the BBC lawyer who went over everything with a fine toothcomb, and then went over it again after a late statement from the Post Office arrived on his day off, shortly before broadcast.
Alan Bates at the Justice For Subpostmasters Alliance.
Ben Goldacre and Richard Wilson for their wise words post transmission. Melissa Wilde for the Manchester Evening News story link.
Matt Deegan, whose knowledge of the Dark Arts and continued sponsorship of important bits of my online presence is something I hope to pay him back for one day.
Chris Cooke and every friend, colleague, ex-colleague and contact who has taken the time to watch/read the story and spread the word...
....and finally, every single subpostmaster and subpostmistress who helped us with the research for the programme, appeared in it or contacted us subsequently. I urge to you to read some of the stories I've been sent in the last week. Some of them are heart-rending.
In order try and have a few hours with my family this weekend I'm going to have to leave this story alone for a bit. But by all means get in touch if you want to.
.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
What's up at the Post Office?
This story has been updated: 14 Aug 2013
In November last year, whilst on air, I got a random tweet from a man called Davinder Misra who wanted to know if I might use his West Byfleet-based taxi service.
I replied, possibly a bit flippantly, that it depended on whether he had any good stories to tell.
Davinder said something like "oh I've got a story to tell alright".
I took his number, we spoke on the phone and I went to see him.
I also spoke to Alan Bates, the man who runs the Justice for Subpostmasters Alliance, then I took the story to my boss at BBC Surrey and my colleagues at Inside Out South. Nearly three months later on Mon 7 Feb 2011, we broadcast the above piece on BBC 1 South.
If you can't view it, a transcript of the film can be found here.
On the same day the television piece went out we broadcast a radio programme focussing on the story on the BBC Surrey Breakfast Show. Have a listen...
In November last year, whilst on air, I got a random tweet from a man called Davinder Misra who wanted to know if I might use his West Byfleet-based taxi service.
I replied, possibly a bit flippantly, that it depended on whether he had any good stories to tell.
Davinder said something like "oh I've got a story to tell alright".
I took his number, we spoke on the phone and I went to see him.
I also spoke to Alan Bates, the man who runs the Justice for Subpostmasters Alliance, then I took the story to my boss at BBC Surrey and my colleagues at Inside Out South. Nearly three months later on Mon 7 Feb 2011, we broadcast the above piece on BBC 1 South.
If you can't view it, a transcript of the film can be found here.
On the same day the television piece went out we broadcast a radio programme focussing on the story on the BBC Surrey Breakfast Show. Have a listen...
Friday, 21 January 2011
Amy and Abi's diaries
In 2009 I started watching Strictly Come Dancing with my then 4 year old daughter Amy.
Then as now, on a Monday, we had a feature called "The Shots in 60 seconds". Here the relevant commentary highlights of Aldershot Town's Saturday match, plus the comments of the manager, would be condensed into 60 seconds and set to music.
It didn't take me long to realise I could do something like that with Strictly Come Dancing, and so was born "Strictly in 60".
Every Sunday in the Autumn of 2009 I would record my daughter's thoughts about the show - who left and why, who did well etc - cut them down to 60s and play them out straight after The Shots in 60.
I liked it because it was a piece of audio, in quality, which broke up the tone of the show - you don't often get to hear a 4 year old speak for a minute on any subject, let alone on the radio, so it provided us with something very different to the usual ebb and flow of the morning.
When Strictly was over I thought about what I could do next, and the idea of Amy's diary presented itself to me. A once a week insight into Surrey life from a 4 year old's perspective.
So in January 2010 we started broadcasting Amy's journal, 60s to 90s worth of audio, every Monday morning. The need to keep it short was essential - there is nothing more boring than other people's children. But if you keep it tight, and the narrative bumps along, you do get that momentary jolt of seeing into a young person's world via the subjects they choose to talk about and the sometimes wonderful turn of phrase they have when articulating it.
Every Sunday evening I would sit down with Amy and we'd record the raw audio. Before recording we'd discuss two or three big moments that happened for her in the week and what we were going to say about them. The diary always starts with "Hello my name is Amy, I'm xxxx years old and this is my diary" and it would always end with "Thank you for listening to Amy's diary". In between we'd record Amy's narrative, using the days as chapter markers. "On TUESday...." or "On SATURday...."
If she lost track of things or used names or words that needed explaining, she went too far off topic, or needed a sentence to signify the end of a section, I'd prompt her. If she rambled on on topic I'd let her go, because that's when you get something that was purely her, and I could isolate it and chop out the stumbles and irrelevant stuff in the edit.
Then I'd upload the raw audio into my PC and cut it at home on Audacity, the free editing software, before emailing it to my producer for him to pick up and chuck into the BBC playout system on Monday morning.
I didn't quite realise how it would take off. There are a lot of people listening to the show who have grown up children themselves. They just love hearing a child's voice, and being reminded of the obssessions that children that age have.
When, after a year in the job on 1 Sep 2010, I asked, on air, for an end of year report from the listeners, I was taken aback by the universal praise we got for Amy's diary.
I went to a New Year's Day drinks party at my in-laws this year and that was the conversation starter for many guests (most of whom were in their sixties). "Oh I do love Amy's diary" they would say, "is it coming back in the New Year?"
My brother-in-law told me he was talking about radio with a friend of his and mentioned I worked in radio. The friend didn't know my name, didn't know the correct name for the station, but once he'd worked out Dave was talking about the local BBC radio station for Surrey he said "Oh yes of course! Amy's diary!"
That's when I realised we had a brand on our hands. Well, that and the number of Christmas cards Amy got from listeners.
This year we have formalised the time slot to 8.50am on a Monday (in the early days it would move around the running order) and introduced our secret weapon - Abi.
Abi is Amy's sister, she's just turned three and through watching Amy do her thing every Sunday, has picked up a very good understanding of what's required. Now when Amy finishes her diary, she adds "Now it's Abi's turn" and the listeners get 20s of Abi. "Hello my name is Abi, I am three and this is my diary..."
Abi is very talkative and quite headstrong, but also something of a performer. Yet she still has that ridiculously raw, unformed little voice that small toddlers have. In terms of pure sound it's just not something you hear every day in that environment.
I'm aware talking about my daughters is much more interesting to me than anyone else, by a factor of, ooh, a million, so I always play it straight when trailing the item.
My feeling is making a big deal about it is twee and dull - if you don't like it, it's around 75 seconds long, it'll be all over before you know it and hopefully there is nothing too irritating, and enough in there to stop you turning off.
Amy and Abi love it, of course. It would be interesting to see how long we can keep this going. Amy has grown over the past year, and I can hear the changes in her voice from her early diaries. I also get the sense that a lot of listeners are enjoying sharing in these tiny glimpses of her childhood. Now Abi is on board, it'll be fun to see if they develop an on air dynamic together.
For me it justifies itself as a bit of audio contrast, in the way that Thought For The Day is a deliberate pause to the rhythm of the Today programme. The moment Amy, Abi, the listeners or my bosses get bored with it, it will go.
If you want to have a listen to the latest diaries, scroll forward 1hr 50m in the most recent Saturday breakfast show on the BBC Surrey page of the iplayer.
.
Then as now, on a Monday, we had a feature called "The Shots in 60 seconds". Here the relevant commentary highlights of Aldershot Town's Saturday match, plus the comments of the manager, would be condensed into 60 seconds and set to music.
It didn't take me long to realise I could do something like that with Strictly Come Dancing, and so was born "Strictly in 60".
Every Sunday in the Autumn of 2009 I would record my daughter's thoughts about the show - who left and why, who did well etc - cut them down to 60s and play them out straight after The Shots in 60.
I liked it because it was a piece of audio, in quality, which broke up the tone of the show - you don't often get to hear a 4 year old speak for a minute on any subject, let alone on the radio, so it provided us with something very different to the usual ebb and flow of the morning.
When Strictly was over I thought about what I could do next, and the idea of Amy's diary presented itself to me. A once a week insight into Surrey life from a 4 year old's perspective.
So in January 2010 we started broadcasting Amy's journal, 60s to 90s worth of audio, every Monday morning. The need to keep it short was essential - there is nothing more boring than other people's children. But if you keep it tight, and the narrative bumps along, you do get that momentary jolt of seeing into a young person's world via the subjects they choose to talk about and the sometimes wonderful turn of phrase they have when articulating it.
Every Sunday evening I would sit down with Amy and we'd record the raw audio. Before recording we'd discuss two or three big moments that happened for her in the week and what we were going to say about them. The diary always starts with "Hello my name is Amy, I'm xxxx years old and this is my diary" and it would always end with "Thank you for listening to Amy's diary". In between we'd record Amy's narrative, using the days as chapter markers. "On TUESday...." or "On SATURday...."
If she lost track of things or used names or words that needed explaining, she went too far off topic, or needed a sentence to signify the end of a section, I'd prompt her. If she rambled on on topic I'd let her go, because that's when you get something that was purely her, and I could isolate it and chop out the stumbles and irrelevant stuff in the edit.
Then I'd upload the raw audio into my PC and cut it at home on Audacity, the free editing software, before emailing it to my producer for him to pick up and chuck into the BBC playout system on Monday morning.
I didn't quite realise how it would take off. There are a lot of people listening to the show who have grown up children themselves. They just love hearing a child's voice, and being reminded of the obssessions that children that age have.
When, after a year in the job on 1 Sep 2010, I asked, on air, for an end of year report from the listeners, I was taken aback by the universal praise we got for Amy's diary.
I went to a New Year's Day drinks party at my in-laws this year and that was the conversation starter for many guests (most of whom were in their sixties). "Oh I do love Amy's diary" they would say, "is it coming back in the New Year?"
My brother-in-law told me he was talking about radio with a friend of his and mentioned I worked in radio. The friend didn't know my name, didn't know the correct name for the station, but once he'd worked out Dave was talking about the local BBC radio station for Surrey he said "Oh yes of course! Amy's diary!"
That's when I realised we had a brand on our hands. Well, that and the number of Christmas cards Amy got from listeners.
This year we have formalised the time slot to 8.50am on a Monday (in the early days it would move around the running order) and introduced our secret weapon - Abi.
Abi is Amy's sister, she's just turned three and through watching Amy do her thing every Sunday, has picked up a very good understanding of what's required. Now when Amy finishes her diary, she adds "Now it's Abi's turn" and the listeners get 20s of Abi. "Hello my name is Abi, I am three and this is my diary..."
Abi is very talkative and quite headstrong, but also something of a performer. Yet she still has that ridiculously raw, unformed little voice that small toddlers have. In terms of pure sound it's just not something you hear every day in that environment.
I'm aware talking about my daughters is much more interesting to me than anyone else, by a factor of, ooh, a million, so I always play it straight when trailing the item.
My feeling is making a big deal about it is twee and dull - if you don't like it, it's around 75 seconds long, it'll be all over before you know it and hopefully there is nothing too irritating, and enough in there to stop you turning off.
Amy and Abi love it, of course. It would be interesting to see how long we can keep this going. Amy has grown over the past year, and I can hear the changes in her voice from her early diaries. I also get the sense that a lot of listeners are enjoying sharing in these tiny glimpses of her childhood. Now Abi is on board, it'll be fun to see if they develop an on air dynamic together.
For me it justifies itself as a bit of audio contrast, in the way that Thought For The Day is a deliberate pause to the rhythm of the Today programme. The moment Amy, Abi, the listeners or my bosses get bored with it, it will go.
If you want to have a listen to the latest diaries, scroll forward 1hr 50m in the most recent Saturday breakfast show on the BBC Surrey page of the iplayer.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)