The Yang Slinger: Vol. XXXV
There is nothing worse in journalism than having to transcribe your own interviews. But is there another way? Or are we all just flippity flippity fucked?
I am happy to be writing this Substack entry, because to be doing so means I’m not transcribing audio.
And I fucking hate transcribing audio.
As we speak, I have 30 interviews for my Tupac biography that need to be transcribed. Yes, t-h-i-r-t-y. Even writing that number makes my skull feel like a cracked coconut overflowing with the acidic vomit of 50,000 Covid-infected death vultures. Let’s say the average interview lasts 40 minutes. And, on a good day, transcribing a 40-minute interview takes, oh, 1 1/2 hours. Well, that means I’m staring down 45 hours of sitting before my laptop, bored as a Scott Baio lecture series, typing shit I’ve already heard into a Google doc.
It is, without any question, the worst part of this job. And if you don’t wanna take my word for it …
• Wright Thompson, ESPN: “I hate every minute of it.”
• Russ Bengtson, former Slam editor: “I hate it. Haaaaaate it.”
• Seth Davis, The Athletic: “Why transcribe when you can be napping?”
• Bo Wulf, The Athletic: “Ugh.”
• Yaron Weitzman, Fox Sports: “It’s the worst thing and the thing I procrastinate from the most.”
• Andrew Knoll, Los Angeles Daily News: “The bane of my existence.”
• Alec Lewis, The Athletic: “The time-suck is brutal.”
I asked Chat GPT to write a poem about the ordeal. Hate to say it, but, bravo.
Transcription is the one part of journalism that bonds those at Fox News with those at MSNBC; those who write for ESPN.com with those who write for SI.com; those who live in Russia with those who live in Ukraine. Kid fans and Play fans.
It blows.
“I don’t just hate it because transcribing is so time intensive—because it is, but because you have to hear every um, every time you step on an answer or don’t wait out a pause long enough, every time you fail to ask what in hindsight (hindlisten?) was an obvious place for a follow-up,” said Bengtson. “I think as writers we tend toward the insanely self-critical and transcribing is so ripe for beating ourselves up.”
So … what are we supposed to do?
When it comes to journalism, I am a creature of habit. Let’s say, for example, I write well at a certain coffee shop on Monday. I am, without fail, returning there Tuesday. And probably Wednesday, too. If I feel like a certain T-shirt has good words in it, I wear it. If a pen is doing me well, I roll with it. It’s not superstition, per se. It’s mojo—that feeling of, “Don’t mess with this good thing you’ve got going.”
Hence, through 29 years in the business, I’ve largely transcribed my own audio. Part of it is due to being dogmatic. My first book, “The Bad Guys Won,” wound up exceeding any of my expectations—so I was going to follow the same approach on books two and three and four. That meant hours upon hours of dreaded-yet-important transcription.
But it’s more than mere ritual. I’ve long believed that re-listening to an interview while typing the words onto a laptop embeds it all within the contours of my brain. Put different: If I interview, say, Kendrick Lamar in April, record it, then play it back again while typing, I’ll be better served down the road when I need to fold the information into my writing. This isn’t merely something I’m saying for the sake of a Substack—it’s Pearlman psychotic gospel. Original interview+transcription of interview=better prepared author/writer when it’s time to get to work.
And I’m not alone in this belief. While researching this topic, I came across a strong number of colleagues who consider the act of transcription—especially in the case of books and long-form magazine pieces—a necessity. “I hated [transcribing] 75 percent and appreciated it 25 percent,” said Ken Davidoff, the former New York Post baseball writer. “The 25 percent being the value of listening again to the interview, making sure it went as good/bad as I thought and also seeing if I could pick up on any mistakes I made in approach/follow-ups/etc.”
Added Lewis, the Vikings beat writer: “There’s something about living in the conversation that helps my brain marinate in what I’m going to write. I cringe at my questions. I lose sight of how much time I’m wasting. But I also hear things differently, and I think it’s somewhat of a process I use to subconsciously structure the stories before I actually structure my stories. I think I’ve gotten to a place where I feel like listening amid any interview is the best skill. It allows you to dig deeper, to gather the detail for a scene, etc. And so although listening and transcribing in the aftermath doesn’t allow for follow ups, it does clue me into certain details and anecdotes that can sway the direction of the story.”
I’m not even sure there’s a base-level non-timesuck argument to be made against transcribing your interviews. It unquestionably helps the final product.
And yet …
It.
Takes.
For.
Fucking.
Fucking.
Fucking.
Fucking.
F
U
C
K
I
N
G
Ever.
Thompson, the ESPN word slinger and author of this outstanding Joe Montana profile, used to be like me. He’d pour a cup o’ something, find a place to sit, listen and type. But then he reached a realization that’s equally inarguable to the pro-transcription stance: “Not transcribing,” he said, “adds time to my outlining/thinking and rewriting.” Wright’s not wrong. I think of all those hours, listening to an interview I already listened to (by virtue of conducting it), and ask myself, “Is this the best use of my day?” I mean, shouldn’t I be doing other book-related tasks like, say, reporting? Knocking on doors? Making calls? That’s why Davis, my former Sports Illustrated colleague and a longtime college hoops chronicler, came up with a unique plan while researching his 2014 John Wooden biography, “Wooden: A Coach’s Life.” Instead of transcribing the hundreds of interviews himself, he enlisted college students to do the work for internship credit. “It didn’t cost me a dime. Genius!” he texted me. “[The importance of self-transcription] is a fallacy peddled by masochists. Nothing is more valuable in life than time.”
So here’s the problem.
Let’s say Seth and Wright are correct. Let’s say transcribing your own stuff is a waste of time and hours that could be better used elsewhere?
What are the options?
Seth’s intern jam is (he’s right) brilliant. But rare are the universities that are going to go along with such a plan. And while Wright enjoys the pleasures of no longer transcribing endless strings of babble, he’s also employed by a place (ESPN) that has oodles of dollars and an account with Rev—probably the Internet’s best-known audio transcription outlet. In other words, Wright doesn’t have to pay for it (My response when Wright—a good friend/colleague—texted me that bit of information: “Fuck you.”)
For those of us without free Rev access, a (fairly) precise transcription via the company costs $1.50 per minute—which (if you’re not good at math) is hella expensive. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve used Rev before (hey, we all have our weak moments), and the transcription is expeditiously executed. But, again, it costs a lot and, according to Mirin Fader of The Ringer (Who left me a pained three-minute voice message that included the award-winning opening, “I’m in transcribing hell.”), it’s not always the best quality. “Rev makes so many errors,” she said. “If you’re in transcribing hell like me, it’s an option. But …”
Perfect, it ain’t.
Rev also has a less precise option, where for 25 cents per minute you receive an automated transcription that, the company says, is about 90 percent accurate (I’d argue it’s closer to 80 percent—but, hey). Another outlet, Otter, has given Rev a run for its money with automated transcription via fairly inexpensive price points that includes a free basic membership that allows one to have interviews recorded and transcribed in real time (as long as you don’t go over 300 monthly minutes or 30 minutes per chat). What’s cool about Rev and Otter is you can read your transcribed document as the audio plays, and make changes/fixes as you go along. “Otter isn’t great,” said Weitzman. “But it’s helpful. Like, on phone calls I’ll put the phone on speaker and let [Otter] transcription run.”
“Otter and other AI transcription are a crutch,” added Knoll. “Maybe they are fine for a glut of transcription that you are going to whittle down and refine, but overall they just aren't effective outside sterile lecturing environments.”
Early on in Tupac research, I tried something new: I went on social media and sought out young folks who’d transcribe for shit money ($20 per hour of interview, not work, time), journalism advice and clip reviews. I found a handful of eager beavers, and they were (more or less) outstanding and reliable. For fairly little money, my transcribed interviews began lining up.
I was giddy.
But then it started to hit me: As the notes rolled in, I forgot who they were and what they’d said. I know that sounds weird and, perhaps, a bit senile—but it was a new, jarring, upsetting phenomenon. Through my first 10 books, I had a very precise recollection of nearly all my interviews—99 percent of which I’d transcribed. And now, with this fresh approach, different sources were turning into foggy clouds of nameless faces and faceless names. Who, again, was Jim? What did Steve do? Did Ed go to high school with Tupac, or middle school?
I was lost.
“Transcribing your own work, while tedious, is a rare opportunity to re-live a moment and recreate a connection,” said Knoll. “And journalism consists of moments and connections the way that life consists of days and seconds. It lets you pick up on statements or maybe even just intonations you might have missed. It gives you an opportunity to evaluate information after adjusting set and setting.”
Sigh.
So now, as I write this at 9:09 on Thursday night, I know what I need to do.
I’ll wrap this Substack, grab some ice cream, pace the hallway, take a deep breath, enter the darkest caves of misery …
… and transcribe.
Dammit.
The Quaz Five with … Varun Shankar
Varun Shankar is the sports editor of The Diamondback, the University of Maryland’s student newspaper, as well as a Washington Post contributor. He recently lived the dream and covered the Super Bowl. You can follow him on Twitter here.
1. Broad, sorta lame question—you're a college student who just spent two weeks ago living Super Bowl media life. How did that happen?: The University of Maryland has a fantastic partnership with Sports Business Journal that allows one Maryland student to work with them as an editorial intern during Super Bowl week. I was selected by Maryland’s Shirley Povich Center for Sports Journalism to represent the school.
2. Did the Super Bowl experience get you more excited about entering media, or did the congestion/weirdness/etc turn you off?: It made me more excited. The congestion is real, I’d never been in a podium setup or press conference arrangement as crowded as the ones I witnessed postgame with Andy Reid and Patrick Mahomes. But it’s the Super Bowl — my hands shook as I stepped into my seat in the auxiliary press box and I nearly teared up thinking about where I was and what a younger me would’ve said if he saw me. It energized me and made me desperate to feel it again — entering media gives me the best shot at doing so.
3. You're the sports editor of Maryland's student newspaper. Do students still care about student newspapers?: I hope so. It’s hard to tell sometimes but some stories resonate and those remind you of why you do the job. The students who work at the newspapers definitely care. The papers also help young journalists develop the basics of the job.
4. Do you think your school's athletic department expects you to cover Maryland sports sympathetically? Can you tell?: If they do, I haven’t noticed and I hope they don’t expect it any longer. Maintaining independence is a priority for The Diamondback and I feel the people we cover know that and act accordingly.
5. What's the dream job? The dream career?: It’s hard to say. For the next few years, I’d like it to be beat reporting on a team. The day-to-day grind excites me (I know that’s a strange thing to say). Right now, I’d like to cover the NFL, football’s the first sport I watched and it’s the one I love most. After that, we’ll see, I love working with SBJ and could see myself doing that. A role like Robert Mays’ at The Athletic, helming a podcast and structuring a content plan, also interests me.
A random old article worth revisiting …
On Dec. 10, 1967, a plane carrying singer Otis Redding and his backing band, the Bar-Kays, crashed in Lake Monona, killing all but one passenger. This piece, penned by William Hess in the following day’s Wisconsin State-Journal, told the story of Ben Cauley, the lone survivor.
This week’s college writer you should follow on Twitter …
Eli Blumenfeld, Georgetown University
So my biggest gripe with college newspapers is the inexplicable sameness of 96 percent of the stuff I read. Considering it’s a collegiate setting, with young writers supposedly finding their voices, it should be explosive and wacky and creative and funky. But, alas, that’s rarely the case. Far too many straight ledes, dull patterns. It’s a bummer.
In Eli Blumenfeld, The Hoya (Georgetown’s student newspaper) has a winner. I was immediately hooked by this …
Why? Because he goes for it. He takes a shot. He experiments. It’s precisely what all college scribes should be doing.
One can follow Eli on Twitter here. Bravo, kid.
Jim Murray speaks with …
A new feature to the Pearlman Journalism Substack—thanks to the warped geniuses at Chat GPT, we can sorta kinda see what would happen if Jim Murray, the late/legendary Los Angeles Times columnist, sat down with three random celebrities. This week, here’s what GPT offers from Jim’s meeting with former Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev, late Cleveland Indians pitcher Steve Olin and Doja Cat …
Jim Murray: Good evening, everyone. I'm honored to be joined by former Indians pitcher Steve Olin, former Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev, and pop sensation Doja Cat.
Steve Olin: Thanks for having me, Jim.
Nikita Khrushchev: It's a pleasure to be here, Mr. Murray.
Doja Cat: Hey, y'all.
Jim Murray: So, Steve, you had a successful career in baseball before it was tragically cut short. Can you tell us about that experience?
Steve Olin: Sure. I was fortunate enough to play for the Cleveland Indians for several years. Unfortunately, in 1993, I was involved in a boating accident that claimed my life and the life of my teammate Tim Crews.
Jim Murray: It was a tragic loss for the Indians and the baseball community as a whole.
Nikita Khrushchev: Indeed, tragedies like that remind us of the fragility of life.
Doja Cat: Yeah, it's so sad. Rest in peace to them both.
Jim Murray: Nikita, you were the leader of the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War. Can you tell us about your experiences during that time?
Nikita Khrushchev: The Cold War was a difficult and tense period for both the Soviet Union and the United States. We were constantly in competition, whether it was in space exploration or nuclear arms development. However, I always believed in the importance of diplomacy and finding common ground.
Jim Murray: That's an important perspective, especially in today's world. Doja Cat, as a successful musician, what's your perspective on the importance of art in society?
Doja Cat: Well, I think art is essential. It's how we express ourselves, our feelings, and our ideas. Music has the power to bring people together, to inspire them, and to give them hope.
Jim Murray: That's a great point. It's amazing how much influence music can have on our emotions and our perspectives.
Nikita Khrushchev: I completely agree. Art has the power to transcend borders and bring people of different cultures and backgrounds together.
Steve Olin: And speaking of bringing people together, it's great that we can all have a conversation like this, even though we come from different backgrounds and have different experiences.
Jim Murray: Absolutely. It's a testament to the power of conversation and dialogue. Well, unfortunately, we're out of time. I want to thank all of my guests for joining me today. It's been a pleasure talking with each of you.
Random journalism musings for the week …
Musing 1: Pat Scanlon, the former Manhattanville College men’s basketball coach, now teaches/coaches at Greenwich Country Day School. His blog is bare-boned and no-frills … and an amazing read on competition, on lessons, on existence, on walking the righteous path. This week’s post, headlined, RARE AIR, is pure joy.
Musing 2: The carving out of Sports Illustrated via one layoff after another layoff crushes my soul 800 different ways. But in Stephanie Apstein, SI continues to feature one of the continent’s top baseball writers and a vastly underrated wordsmith. Her piece on the Padres is, as always, money.
Musing 3: In the stories-I-didn’t-anticipate-reading-in-2023 category, Rolling Stone’s Andy Greene brings us this really detailed, really sad, really pathetic article on the ‘90s band Live and their crippling disfunction. The takeaway: Fame+money=poison.
Musing 4: This was a legitimately eye-opening piece from Esquire’s William Mullally on the actor Pedro Pascal, and his refusal to go along with some of the bullshit Hollywood nonsense that performers are expected to endure with a grin and a shrug. Wrote Mullally: “Hopefully this is the last time it happens. But, entertainment journalists being the unimaginative beasts that they are, it will not be. He will likely continue to be asked about this for decades to come. But I pray that this is not the case, because Pascal is an excellent actor, who deserves better than this debasing garbage.”
Musing 5: This isn’t the most common observation you’ll get from a 50-year-old sports journalist, but J. Cole and BTS’ j-hope teamed up for a song (“On the street”) that dropped Thursday night at 9 pm—and soared past a million views in less than 45 minutes. The tune is a reminder that, no matter the environment, Cole is elite.
Musing 6: The 300th episode of Two Writers Slinging Yang stars Shaun Powell, NBA.com writer and one of the best sports columnists to ever apply pen to paper. I really loved this chat.
Quote of the week …
“Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a passion, a mission, a calling, a service to humanity."
— Peter Mansbridge, former anchor of CBC's The National.
This has worked for me... I open a blank Google Doc and I play my audio file (usually recorded on a Zoom H5) on my desktop. I activate Google Docs' voice typing (under "tools," make sure you have the mic permission "on" for whatever browser you're using), the .wav file plays through my Mac and transcribes the audio to the blank Doc. It's not perfect at getting everything and it has to be gone over, but it saves me a lot of time.
It really depends what the transcription is for. If it's a more open ended convo and you are trying to figure out what to write, it is essential to listen to it again IMHO. But I'v ebeen using a great young journalist to do transcriptions more and more. Because not only am I lazy about it and do I hate it in all the ways described, but I've been doing profiles of great musicians in the Wall street Journal the last 3-4 years: David Crosby, James Taylor, Paul Simon, Bonnie Raitt, Billy Strings... and a lot of times I do lengthy interviews but can only use 3-4 quotes. So I was making notes, noting the time of quotes I'd want and getting them... but I realized that I really should have precise transcriptions for my files and records, and I just couldn't do it all the time.
I've written two extensive oral histories, on the Allman Brothers and Stevie Ray Vaughan, and for hte first one, I was so overwhelmed I literally could NOT transcribe everything, so I just made sure to get the quotes I needed and knew I might use... but really regretted not having full transcriptions of all of them, so I've been spending money and getting them done more and more.