Writer's Block

Ten percent

The reports, forms, notes, clips and tips have been gathering on my desk for a new project I'm working on, and this week I finally decided it was time to tame the pile and get it into some kind of order.

I wanted the project to have a whole drawer to itself -- you know, give it some room to grow -- and that meant making space in my filing cabinet. It was finally time to clear out my files from the biggest and most challenging story I ever worked on, my 2006 investigation of Hawaii's air ambulance system.

I had a whole file drawer stuffed with the documents I'd assembled for the story that had taken months to play out. Copies of certificate-of-need applications and responses, along with all the financial and technical reports that came with them; employee training manuals; lists of phone numbers; copies of every Freedom of Information Act request I'd submitted, along with response letters; all my notes; campaign contribution records; old press releases; spreadsheets of air ambulance response times; 25-year-old articles of incorporation for the various companies; NTSB reports on prior ambulance crashes; newspaper clips; health department studies; CON documents on other air ambulance systems that were never approved. And the single document that clinched my story, the Federal Aviation Administration's 100-page report on its post-crash inspection of Hawaii Air Ambulance's planes and records.

I had to laugh. After months of gathering reports and documents by the pound, I  was still only looking through a keyhole. Then I got that one FAA report, and it was like throwing open a window -- all of a sudden, I could see the whole story. In fact, as I was cleaning out my files, I couldn't believe how many documents I'd gathered that I'd simply never used. I'd made a weeklong research trip to Honolulu, for heaven's sake, and it only led to a few tidbits that actually made it into a story.

In fact, I'd estimate I only used about 10 percent of the information I gathered. Ten percent! Thinking back on all the other stories that got pushed to the side while I was working on the investigation, all the nights I was up past midnight reading reports, all the Aikido classes I missed so I could work -- wouldn't it have been great if I could have just done the 10 percent of the research that actually mattered?

Of course, that would have been impossible. You never really know when you're in the middle of it whether some shred of information that seems innocuous now will be revealed to be crucial by some future shred of information. Pretty soon you're afraid to throw anything away. You start reading reports two or three times, afraid you'll miss that keystone. You go from mild OCD to a full-blown case of crazy.

Looking back, I wonder if I could ever do a story like the air ambulance investigation again. I have a baby now, and I'm no longer in a position where work can take over my life, even temporarily. Back then, I didn't know what I was getting into. I just started digging into what seemed like a good story, and the hole kept getting deeper and deeper. If I saw myself heading down that road today, it might just be too daunting to start.

So, should I be worried that I'm clearing out a whole file drawer for a new project?