The Wall Street Journal nails the story “Huge Pipeline Delivers Bonanza to Towns on Route.”

What makes it compelling?

Let’s start with timing.

After slaving on this 1,679-mile wonder, the last leg is now being laid and welded. The end is literally in sight.

With a helping hand from REX’s PR department, Journal writer Ann Davis offers ample quantification:

• Last leg of the pipeline cost $6.7B

• Used 1.4M tons of steal

• Welded 110,814 sections of 42-inch pipe

• Negotiated with 6,530 landowners for rights of way

Side note: Can you imagine? I can’t even get my neighbors to trim their avocado tree hanging over our front yard.

• Worked 27 million man-hours

• Created 10,000 jobs

• Reduced the premium the East pays over the West to 17 cents per million British thermal units from $2.77

I’ve evangelized the power of the anecdote, which Ms. Davis showcases throughout the piece starting with misplaced varmints:

“To avoid disturbing the endangered Indiana bat, crews in Ohio had to clear trees in the dark and in warm weather when bats wouldn’t roost. Biologists monitored their every move.”

Nice touch bringing in the binocular brigade for a little tension.

But the best anecdote comes from the periphery:

Dry cleaners are starching uniforms for welders so sparks will bounce off their clothes and not burn holes.

Good imagery. I’m guessing the heavy starch box gets the checkmark.

And rather than shackle the pipeline with esoteric nomenclature, the good folks from Kinder Morgan Energy Partners dubbed the pipeline REX. Even I get the double entendre to the land of oil and gas, TEX.

Aside from a few pesky analysts questioning Kinder’s financial return, this is a feel-good story that delivers.

Kinder’s president of natural-gas pipelines and COO Steven Kean sums up the undertaking with the Zen-ish reflection:

“Everybody really needed the pipe. The question was: Who was going to build it?”

The latest issue of BusinessWeek ran a piece called “The Leaner Baby Boomer Economy”

In short, the story looks at how major brands like Starwood Hotels and Mercedes are responding to baby boomers cutting back on their discretionary spending.

Like all compelling storytelling, the writer David Welch makes good use of anecdotes.

For example, he highlights clothing designer Vera Wang with the following insight:

“In one instance, Wang made a high-end dress using fabric that costs $5 a yard instead of $12 but used the fabric in several layers to give the garment a richer look.”

Is Wang worried that her customers will learn that she’s using a cheaper fabric?

No.

Because she has confidence in the end product and a value proposition that aligns with today’s consumer climate.

In the world of technology, companies often hesitate to share this type of information, rationalizing that it would hurt their business if known to the competition. But Wang isn’t worried about divulging proprietary company information because she recognizes the real secret lies in the how (execution), not in the what (multi-layer approach with the fabric).

A second anecdote and my personal favorite comes from Mercedes:

“Mercedes has quietly recruited 500 people aged 20 to 32 for a focus group it calls Generation Benz. Mercedes researchers are seeking their views on the economy, car ads, model designs, and more. The automaker sent 20 Generation Benzers into dealerships wearing flip-flops and other casual attire to see how much attention they received. Four of the 20 were ignored. The results, says Steve Cannon, vice-president for marketing, served as a wake-up call to Mercedes dealers.”

At first blush, this information could be interpreted as a negative hit on Mercedes; i.e., if you’re not dressed “right” you get ignored in Mercedes dealerships.

Instead, Mercedes shows transparency in learning from its mistakes which in turn makes for a good story. Plus the car maker recognizes that a) no company is perfect, so sharing a “blemish” is OK, and b) the bigger message, “we listen” comes through.

As shared in an earlier post The Enigma of Business Journalism, The Economist we analyzed the tech-related articles in The Economist, covering the April through November 2008 issues. Seventeen percent of the content fell under the anecdotal umbrella.

Kudos to the Mercedes PR department which I suspect proactively dug out the Generation Benzers anecdotes and made them available to the reporter. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Welch covers the auto industry so he interacts with Mercedes on a regular basis.

No, I’m not talking about Matt Kenseth winning the Daytona 500.

Instead, consider what brings the vast majority of folks to the racetrack.

It’s the possibility to witness a high-speed wreck.

I’ve come to call the type of story that offers up the possibility of a wreck - defining “wreck” as an element of the story tied to the protagonist going horribly astray - as a “NASCAR story.”

I recently saw a front-page note in the San Jose Mercury News asking readers if they’re out of work, searching for a new job and interested in Warholic fame to drop the editors a note. The Merc will pick a few folks to follow on their job hunt and report on each saga.

This is a NASCAR story because the potential exists for a wreck. Given that almost 600,000 folks lost their jobs in January alone according to the U.S. Labor Department, there’s no guarantee that these stories will close with the birds chirping and everyone living happily ever after. 

I suppose it’s a similar dynamic to reality TV and what keeps people coming back to “American Idol” (as an aside, my daughter has Lil Rounds as the early favorite). The unscripted nature of this type of story means the reader/viewer doesn’t know the ending, with the potential wreck always lurking around the corner.

I’m surprised more communications professionals don’t develop and pitch NASCAR stories. No question, there’s a dimension of risk, but the reward can be opening doors at heavyweight publications without the typical news announcement.

I flagged a story last month in The Wall Street Journal titled “Cooking Up Ways to Improve Steaks on a Plane” (provided the link to the story on MSN for those without a subscription to the online Journal). It’s an entertaining read as columnist Scott McCartney essentially places himself at the hip of the Singapore Airlines’ head of food service, Mr. Freidanck, as he evaluates one of the airline’s food vendors, the Chelsea Food Service based in Houston.

It’s also a NASCAR story.

McCartney’s unscripted “access” makes for drama and a narrative rich in anecdotes:

Because the dry air of a jet cabin dries mouths, taste is diminished in flight. So Singapore and other carriers exaggerate flavors in meals.

The piece also contains a few mini-wrecks in which the caterer’s executive chef gets raked over the coals (couldn’t resist):

Mr. Freidanck tastes while Shashi Nath, Chelsea’s executive chef, awaits judgment. A corn chowder isn’t thick enough. Oops, celeriac and pear cream soup is too thick. “Do they really understand celeriac here in Texas?” Mr. Freidanck asks the throng taking notes on every order.

A sauce is too starchy; beef soup is too salty. “Something was lost in translation on the beef soup,” he says. Crabmeat on top of avocados in one salad looks messy and he redesigns the layout himself, then photographs it when he gets it exactly as he wants it. Mushrooms in one dish are chopped too small, their variety unrecognizable. Muscovy duck is undercooked and doesn’t taste right. “It’s not Muscovy!” Mr. Freidanck says.

“It is positively,” Mr. Nath insists.

I can almost picture a shouting match: “It’s not a Muscovy duck … Yes it is … No it isn’t … Yes it is.”

Yet, even with the negatives, the reader takes away an overall positive impression of Singapore Airlines and its quest to serve the customer.

Kudos to the Singapore Airlines PR team (assuming the seed of the story came from them) for not only manufacturing the storyline but for selling the concept to management.

The media loves NASCAR stories.

It would behoove communications professionals to push beyond their comfort zone and that of their company to develop these types of angles with unhandled access. Such an approach certainly better aligns with the needs of the media than a news release. 

The San Jose Mercury News ran the feel-good story “From Strawberries to Startup” on the front page above the fold.

No doubt, the Merc’s editorial decision-makers - and for that matter publication bosses from around the country - figure the onslaught of negative news starts to numb the readership.

Check out the Merc’s front-page headlines leading into the piece:

Our Shrinking ECONOMY (their choice to go uppercase), The “Worsts” Keep on Coming, Jan. 31, 2009

Closing in … housing crisis reaches wealthier valley communities, Feb. 1, 2009

Super Steelers (relief from the Dorito bowl), Feb. 2, 2009

Home Prices: bad to worse, Feb. 3, 2009

Needless to say, you don’t need the M.B.A. brigade for deep analysis to discern the trend.

To break the pattern, the Merc highlighted a story that never goes out of style: An immigrant capitalizes on America’s opportunities through old-fashion hard work. If this post was multimedia, you’d hear “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” playing in the background now.

What took the startup called Ooyala from the Business section to the front of the paper is the contrarian angle.

We’re not talking immigrants from India, China, Taiwan, Israel or Eastern Europe who regularly impact the tech scene.

The chaps who lifted Ooyala to stardom come from Mexican heritage and their parents were migrant farm workers.

From these humble beginnings, Bismarck and Bel Lepe gained entry to Stanford which led to a gig at Google and set the stage for their own undertaking.

Merc reporter Scott Duke Harris develops the compelling tale with ample use of anecdotes. I particularly liked:

“The Lepe brothers say their parents’ hard work provided them with privileges not common to working class kids, including piano and karate lessons.”

I think it’s fair to say that the children of migrant workers aren’t typically learning Tchaikovsky.  

The quotes - unlike the typical generic filler - also enhance the story:

“To stay at Google would be like living in your parents’ mansion: It might be nice but it’s still their mansion.”

Lest you think serendipity landed the profile, the company has secured visibility in targets ranging from Global Burger to a Fortune profile penned by heavyweight Adam Lashinsky.

Obviously, the Lepe brothers learned a thing or two about building a company image from their time at Google.

When we last addressed Mr. Jobs he was taking a pass on Macworld.

More recently, unless you’ve spent the last week in the proverbial cave, you’ve seen the cavalcade of stories on Steve Jobs taking a leave of absence from Apple.

The common denominator in the stories revolves around understanding his replacement, Tim Cook.

It’s revealing to contrast a blog posting from The Wall Street Journal by Nick Wingfield with a story in the San Jose Mercury News penned by Brandon Bailey ”Iron Reporter”-style (further proof that I’m spending way too much time on the Food Network).

Let’s start with the headlines.

“When Steve Jobs Met Tim Cook” (Journal) versus “Tim Cook – Jobs’ temporary replacement at Apple – seen as strong manger” (Merc).

No contest.

The Journal story promises to put me in the room for the first Jobs-Cook interaction, with instant drama coming from the question “what happened?”  

Was it “like” at first sight?  

Did Cook wear a “Vote for Ike” button as an icebreaker?  

On the other hand, the Merc header indicates that we’re likely going to read a rehash of what’s already known by even pedestrian Apple watchers. 

And that’s about how it plays out. 

Wingfield deserves credit for tracking down the recruiter at Heidrick & Struggles who served as the matchmaker back in 1998. (The fact that the recruiter no longer works for Heidrick tells me that Heidrick PR did not pitch the story angle.) While the walk down memory lane won’t evoke foreshadowing like F. Scott Fitzgerald, at least it’s different from the thousands of Cook-knows-how-to-make-the-trains-run-on-time stories. The anecdote that Steve isn’t big on collecting barber chairs adds some levity. 

The Merc story kicks off with the premise that Cook is the right man for the short-term gig, supported by “scintillating” quotes from two sources: 

“He’s the guy that makes sure everything gets executed properly. He’s excellent at getting things done.” (Tim Bajarin from Creative Strategies) 

The 48-year-old Cook is “not a product innovator. But he runs a very tight ship.” (Brian Marshall from Broadpoint AmTech) 

Needless to say, we won’t be adding these quotes to our art of storytelling curriculum … which isn’t to diss the two sources. We know Bajarin, who is absolutely clued into Apple and often communicates with a compelling bent. But what shows up in this particular article from the sources interviewed doesn’t make for an enlightening read. 

It turns out that the best color in the Merc piece gets borrowed from Fortune’s profile on Cook last year: 

A recent article in Fortune magazine described a management meeting in which Cook was discussing a problem with Apple’s Asian operations. “This is really a problem,” Cook reportedly said. “Someone should be in China driving this.” Thirty minutes later, Cook turned to a subordinate and calmly inquired: “Why are you still here?” The man immediately left the meeting, the magazine said; he drove straight to the airport and flew to China without a change of clothes.

Even with the limitations of a 24-hour news cycle, you would think the paper in Apple’s backyard could do a little better on the original reporting front (although finding a tidbit in the Cook family’s hometown paper, the Robertsdale Independent was a nice touch).

I do recognize that both the Journal and the Merc have published multiple stories on this topic. It’s plausible that with a little more initiative on my part, I could have found a dull Journal piece and a Merc story with panache. 

It’s also not lost on me that the blog as a medium for reporting offers the latitude to capture vignettes that otherwise wouldn’t be substantial enough to make the printed page. 

Still, I think this exercise sheds light on how to create – or suffocate – drama in business communications.