What is the “secret sauce” that makes a successful piece?

Every now and then we put out a booklet for our staff called “Give & Take.”

It’s a collection of insider questions and answers about their shared line of work. The questions range from “How do you overcome writer’s block” to “Which books helped you hone your craft” to “How do you build a good lead” to “Do you edit as you work or wait until you’re done” to “Who do you trust to review your work before publication.”

One of the questions that kept appearing in different permutations is a question we all struggle with: What is the “secret sauce” that makes a successful piece?

Every writer has his or her own answer to that question. Master editor and writer Rabbi Moshe Grylak used to tell us about a financial columnist whose work shone because he always made it about the reader. “When he reported price fluctuations in the agricultural sector,” he’d say, “he made it real for the average housewife — he wrote about the changing prices of tomatoes in the makolet.”

Another writer described the way she read her final version aloud to make sure the words “sang.” A lot of writers nodded when they read that description; they recognized that sensation of words that become so much more resonant than black text on a white screen.

Another secret that animates a piece is the writer’s passion for their subject. When a writer feels strongly about his piece, you can tell: There’s a certain electricity that crackles through the lines. Of course, writers who want to make a steady paycheck can’t exclusively cover subjects that excite them — sometimes you just have to take the assignment — but a smart editor will try to be a shadchan too, matching up writers with people, events, or topics they find intriguing. Or inspiring. Or maddening — that can also work.

From a technical standpoint, I think there’s something else that makes a piece work. It’s a fusion of scope and spice, also called substance and style, also known as content and delivery.

A good piece has to cover the bases. The piece needs to answer readers’ questions and provide authentic, fresh content. There aren’t so many shortcuts here. You need to do the work. That means thorough research and reporting, comprehensive and authoritative information, and a clear structure.

But if you’re building a feature, not a term paper, you need more than that. You want your readers to enjoy the telling, and that means the delivery requires attention too. It needs a certain spice, a panache. It has to transcend mere transmission of information and become a pleasurable experience.

The planning for this week’s cover story started out in the first category: important information we all need to hear. But we didn’t want to suffice with sitting across the desk from the interviewee and taking down his thoughts. We wanted a delivery that would take readers along for some sort of virtual ride.

“Put your subject in motion” is key advice for crafting fiction: Instead of having the critical conversation take place on a couch or over supper, get the characters moving, acting, doing, and arrange the dialogue around that. For this week’s cover story, our writer tried the same technique for a decidedly nonfiction piece. He asked our subject to get in motion, and the resulting read is so much more engaging than any conversation across a desk.

Some readers enjoy beautiful wording and clever wordplay no matter how inadequate the frame (some people like cream cake even when it’s more cream than cake). Some readers soak up information no matter how dry the container. But for most writers, and for most readers, there are no real shortcuts, no way to compensate for missing essentials. A good piece will always cover both vital bases, pairing solid content with inspired delivery.

—Shoshana Friedman

Managing Editor

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 897)