A “good story” can mean a lot of different things in a newsroom.
Sometimes it simply means the story everyone will want to read – which is often a grisly or saddening tale, but one full of detail and intrigue.
Other times it means a story you won’t believe – something so unexpected and outlandish, it seems like it can’t possibly be true, and yet it is.
And sometimes a “good story” just means a story where good things happen, adversity is overcome, and the world is a little better as a result.
But this week, The Courier newsroom was blessed by a rare “good story” in all three senses: Vilo the “miracle” pup.
When our Perth and Kinross area editor Morag Lindsay shared the inspiring story of beloved chihuahua Vilo, who survived in a burnt out Scott Street building for a fortnight before being rescued, the mood of the whole Courier office visibly shifted.
Eyes widened, jaws dropped, smiles broke across faces as the story made its way around the newsroom.
It’s a bit of an industry inside joke that “everyone loves a dog story”, but this one was extra special.
Even those most seasoned journalists who have seen and done it all simply couldn’t resist the delight of a plucky wee dug making it home to her family after they lost their home in a blaze.
On coffee breaks, usually kept as sacred two-minute havens outside of “work chat”, Vilo was the topic of conversation.
“Did you hear about that wee dog?”
“Isn’t it amazing?”
And, my personal favourite, a new motto from Morag herself: “Live your life like a 2kg dog in a burnt-out building at risk of collapse at any second.”
A good story is worth paying for
In a workplace where so many serious issues and wrenching revelations are in the air, Vilo, and the heroic volunteers who rescued her, gave us all a shared moment of pure joy.
A good story can do that. It has the power to unite people, and to inspire them.
We saw that when it went into the world; readers commenting such positive responses, people being genuinely uplifted by a stroke of good fortune for a family they don’t even know.
That’s not something you can put a price on, but it’s something worth working – and paying – for.
And it got me thinking about the value of good news, monetary and otherwise.
News avoidance in the UK is at an all-time high.
According to the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism, public interest in news dropped dramatically from 70% in 2015 to just 38% in 2024.
And even as someone who relies on readership to make my living, I don’t blame anyone for switching off.
The sheer volume of information people face each day, so much of it emotive and clamouring for attention, is exhausting.
And even so-called “good news” does this now, as media companies are wise to the trend.
So much is shallow, packaged positivity, curated and sold back to folk in an entirely transparent gimmick which is, of course, another way to monopolise attention.
As long as enough people read it, that kind of inane “good news” news will keep being pumped out to the masses.
But what do so many national and global media outlets miss in their distraction-from-doom approach to “good news”?
The art of a good story.
Why local news has the best ‘good’ stories
This is where local news shines. Because we don’t just pick up a tragedy – like the Scott Street fire – and then leave the scene.
We know that the best stories often come out of the worst of times; and that’s what makes them mean even more, to us and to you, the readers.
So we stay listening, still digging around, still checking in.
And then when something extraordinary happens, like a tiny chihuahua defying the odds and surviving in a broken wardrobe, we amplify that spot of light in the dark.
Communities need hope; and hope lives in really good stories.
Conversation