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Immersion: A Writer's Guide to Going Deep
Over three and a half decades, Ted Conover has ridden the rails with hoboes, crossed the border with Mexican immigrants, guarded prisoners in Sing Sing, and inspected meat for the USDA. His books and articles chronicling these experiences, including the award-winning Newjack: Guarding Sing Sing, have made him one of the premier practitioners of immersion reporting.
In immersion reporting—a literary cousin to ethnography, travel writing, and memoir—the writer fully steps into a new world or culture, participating in its trials, rites, and rituals as a member of the group. The end results of these firsthand experiences are familiar to us from bestsellers such as Nickel and Dimed and Behind the Beautiful Forevers. But in a world of wary strangers, where does one begin?
Conover distills decades of knowledge into an accessible resource aimed at writers of all levels. He covers how to “get into” a community, how to conduct oneself once inside, and how to shape and structure the stories that emerge. Conover is also forthright about the ethics and consequences of immersion reporting, preparing writers for the surprises that often surface when their piece becomes public. Throughout, Conover shares anecdotes from his own experiences as well as from other well-known writers in this genre, including Alex Kotlowitz, Anne Fadiman, and Sebastian Junger. It’s a deep-in-the-trenches book that all aspiring immersion writers should have in hand as they take that first leap into another world.
In immersion reporting—a literary cousin to ethnography, travel writing, and memoir—the writer fully steps into a new world or culture, participating in its trials, rites, and rituals as a member of the group. The end results of these firsthand experiences are familiar to us from bestsellers such as Nickel and Dimed and Behind the Beautiful Forevers. But in a world of wary strangers, where does one begin?
Conover distills decades of knowledge into an accessible resource aimed at writers of all levels. He covers how to “get into” a community, how to conduct oneself once inside, and how to shape and structure the stories that emerge. Conover is also forthright about the ethics and consequences of immersion reporting, preparing writers for the surprises that often surface when their piece becomes public. Throughout, Conover shares anecdotes from his own experiences as well as from other well-known writers in this genre, including Alex Kotlowitz, Anne Fadiman, and Sebastian Junger. It’s a deep-in-the-trenches book that all aspiring immersion writers should have in hand as they take that first leap into another world.
192 pages, Hardcover
Published October 24, 2016
31 people are currently reading
339 people want to read
About the author
Ted Conover
34 books255 followersTed Conover, a "master of experience-based narrative nonfiction" (Publisher's Lunch), is the author of many articles and five books including Rolling Nowhere: Riding the Rails with America's Hoboes, Coyotes: A Journey Across Borders with America's Mexican Migrants, Whiteout: Lost in Aspen, Newjack: Guarding Sing Sing (winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award and finalist for the Pulitzer Prize), and, most recently, The Routes of Man: How Roads Are Changing the World and the Way We Live Today. He is a distinguished writer-in-residence at the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute of New York University."
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
January 2, 2017
Ted Conover’s Immersion is a tidy, thoughtful handbook for writers and journalists interested in “going deep” with their subjects.
Conover has produced five eye-opening works of non-fiction and a slew of long-form articles for magazines such as The New Yorker, Harper’s and many others. He rode the rails with hoboes for Rolling Nowhere, crossed the border with Mexican immigrants for Coyotes, guarded prisoners at Sing-Sing for Newjack, and explored overlooked communities and the issues of roads around the world for The Routes of Man. More recently, he was hired as a meat inspector for the USDA and wrote a long piece for Harper's.
If you aren’t familiar with his work and enjoy outstanding non-fiction, start with Rolling Nowhere and Coyotes and work your way through the books. There’s a reason they’re all still in print today. Conover has a singular, engaging voice. You'll soon recognize his style. Plus, he’s an exacting reporter who takes incredibly detailed notes and turns around and tells compelling stories about real—and often overlooked—citizens of the world. I read Routes of Man twice and took away much more on the second spin (on audio). Here’s hoping that someday there will be a book-form compilation of his best magazine work, too.
For Immersion—A Writer’s Guide to Going Deep, Conover imparts the lessons he’s learned. In addition to his ongoing projects, he’s an associate professor of journalism at New York University and this brisk book (152 pages before the end notes) lays out an approach to thinking about this unique form of journalism. In typical clean Conover fashion, the book is presented in six chapters—Why Immerse?; Choosing a Subject and Gaining Access; Once Inside; Undercover: Moving Beyond Stunt; Writing It; and Aftermath.
There are many ways to dive into a subculture and Conover offers a wide range of tips and ideas for going about your business as a writer and reporter, particularly the tricky business of building trust “inside.” Conover is upfront about some of the mistakes he’s made along the way, both in identifying his role as he moves into the world he intends to cover and as he builds relationships within.
Conover draws from his own experiences and dozens and dozens of others—the bibliography offers an extensive list of reading suggestions from Katherine Boo to Sebastian Junger to Alex Kotlowitz. One doesn't doubt he's read and studied them all. Drawing examples from his many cohorts who practice the same style of reporting endeavor, it’s clear Conover recognizes himself as a member of large community and part of a long tradition.
It’s easy to see that Conover’s standards for ethics and integrity are set the highest level. He’s a stickler on notes and fact checking (as any writer for The New Yorker should be, would be).
“If you are seeking out an experience that you intend to write about, taking notes should be a major part of it,” he writes. “Maybe, if you’re a committed personal essayist, it will just be a journal you update over coffee, or before bed. Or, if you’re a literary journalist, it can be lines scribbled in a small spiral notebook and/or typed into a laptop or mobile device more or less continually during the day. The point is two-fold: (1) notes will only bolster your memory, not detract from it; and (2) specificity … gives writing power. It also gives you the option of writing journalism, which requires the citing of factual data, not just best-I-could-remember data.”
The care Conover puts into his writing is obvious when you read his work. Precision rules. There’s a genuine confidence, along with an easy-to-read style that is utterly engaging. That’s in part because Conover always makes it clear he’s from another world, though trying his best to empathize with the lives and cultures of others.
Since he uses first-person (judiciously, I would argue), Conover’s chapter on “Writing It” includes some cautionary ideas about writers using the “I” voice. Conover makes a convincing case that you have to “earn” that voice and that it has to contribute to the larger story as you draw from your own experience and reveal to the reader the struggle involved in the immersion itself. It’s a tricky tightrope of trust for would-be immersionists and there are a host of ethical issues to trip over. This book will help you think through those issues and, perhaps, save you some trouble.
I would suggest, in fact, that Immersion would be useful for “regular” journalists too—in how they think about their relationships with their sources and think about the larger story they want to tell. Any beat reporter is, essentially, living among his or her subject for a long period of time (a City Hall reporter, say, or anyone covering a single organization for an extended period). No, it’s not the same as hopping freight trains with hoboes, but there is an overlap in technique, standards, and maintaining integrity.
Given the political landscape and what (I hope) is a resurgence in the strength and numbers of news organizations, now we need the production of high-standard journalism, immersion or not, like never before. We all need better windows in the lives of others, in this country and all around this big old world.
Conover has produced five eye-opening works of non-fiction and a slew of long-form articles for magazines such as The New Yorker, Harper’s and many others. He rode the rails with hoboes for Rolling Nowhere, crossed the border with Mexican immigrants for Coyotes, guarded prisoners at Sing-Sing for Newjack, and explored overlooked communities and the issues of roads around the world for The Routes of Man. More recently, he was hired as a meat inspector for the USDA and wrote a long piece for Harper's.
If you aren’t familiar with his work and enjoy outstanding non-fiction, start with Rolling Nowhere and Coyotes and work your way through the books. There’s a reason they’re all still in print today. Conover has a singular, engaging voice. You'll soon recognize his style. Plus, he’s an exacting reporter who takes incredibly detailed notes and turns around and tells compelling stories about real—and often overlooked—citizens of the world. I read Routes of Man twice and took away much more on the second spin (on audio). Here’s hoping that someday there will be a book-form compilation of his best magazine work, too.
For Immersion—A Writer’s Guide to Going Deep, Conover imparts the lessons he’s learned. In addition to his ongoing projects, he’s an associate professor of journalism at New York University and this brisk book (152 pages before the end notes) lays out an approach to thinking about this unique form of journalism. In typical clean Conover fashion, the book is presented in six chapters—Why Immerse?; Choosing a Subject and Gaining Access; Once Inside; Undercover: Moving Beyond Stunt; Writing It; and Aftermath.
There are many ways to dive into a subculture and Conover offers a wide range of tips and ideas for going about your business as a writer and reporter, particularly the tricky business of building trust “inside.” Conover is upfront about some of the mistakes he’s made along the way, both in identifying his role as he moves into the world he intends to cover and as he builds relationships within.
Conover draws from his own experiences and dozens and dozens of others—the bibliography offers an extensive list of reading suggestions from Katherine Boo to Sebastian Junger to Alex Kotlowitz. One doesn't doubt he's read and studied them all. Drawing examples from his many cohorts who practice the same style of reporting endeavor, it’s clear Conover recognizes himself as a member of large community and part of a long tradition.
It’s easy to see that Conover’s standards for ethics and integrity are set the highest level. He’s a stickler on notes and fact checking (as any writer for The New Yorker should be, would be).
“If you are seeking out an experience that you intend to write about, taking notes should be a major part of it,” he writes. “Maybe, if you’re a committed personal essayist, it will just be a journal you update over coffee, or before bed. Or, if you’re a literary journalist, it can be lines scribbled in a small spiral notebook and/or typed into a laptop or mobile device more or less continually during the day. The point is two-fold: (1) notes will only bolster your memory, not detract from it; and (2) specificity … gives writing power. It also gives you the option of writing journalism, which requires the citing of factual data, not just best-I-could-remember data.”
The care Conover puts into his writing is obvious when you read his work. Precision rules. There’s a genuine confidence, along with an easy-to-read style that is utterly engaging. That’s in part because Conover always makes it clear he’s from another world, though trying his best to empathize with the lives and cultures of others.
Since he uses first-person (judiciously, I would argue), Conover’s chapter on “Writing It” includes some cautionary ideas about writers using the “I” voice. Conover makes a convincing case that you have to “earn” that voice and that it has to contribute to the larger story as you draw from your own experience and reveal to the reader the struggle involved in the immersion itself. It’s a tricky tightrope of trust for would-be immersionists and there are a host of ethical issues to trip over. This book will help you think through those issues and, perhaps, save you some trouble.
I would suggest, in fact, that Immersion would be useful for “regular” journalists too—in how they think about their relationships with their sources and think about the larger story they want to tell. Any beat reporter is, essentially, living among his or her subject for a long period of time (a City Hall reporter, say, or anyone covering a single organization for an extended period). No, it’s not the same as hopping freight trains with hoboes, but there is an overlap in technique, standards, and maintaining integrity.
Given the political landscape and what (I hope) is a resurgence in the strength and numbers of news organizations, now we need the production of high-standard journalism, immersion or not, like never before. We all need better windows in the lives of others, in this country and all around this big old world.
August 31, 2023
Conover has distilled years of experience and knowhow into this handy manual that is of benefit to all writers.
At age 22, Conover hopped a freight train, wanting to ride somewhere as a hobo, little knowing this starting point would be the beginning of a satisfying and rewarding career. Returning to school with the “field notes” he had taken, he found himself as a minor celebrity when other students began pummeling him with questions about his experience. He wrote about it in an article for the student newspaper which was reprinted in the college alumni magazine and before long he began receiving queries from national media. Soon Conover achieved the dream of aspiring writers, landing a book contract to expand his college thesis into a first-person narrative titled "Rolling Nowhere".
Preparing to write the book, he looked for materials and resources to guide him, but “in the end . . . . had to go it alone,” following the creed of some self-help groups, “learning by doing.” After publication, he began to teach while continuing to write as he answered students’ questions and gave advice from what he’d learned by his own experiences. Now, with "Immersion", he has written the book he wished he’d had when he first “set off to ride the rails.”
Conover covers all the steps necessary to embark into immersion writing starting with chapter one, “Why Immerse?”, which reveals the origins of the craft in ethnography, travel writing, and memoir.
Subsequent chapters lay out the techniques and methods the immersion practitioner must master in order to gain access to a subject and gather the inside information that will become the finished product, a research paper, article, or book. Much of this work is pragmatic by nature and is done outdoors expending shoe leather. Yet even such non cerebral activity is revealed by Conover to be a creative exercise.
This book gives a lot of tips for the prospective immersion writer. For instance, when choosing a subject, “it [must] intrigue you. . . if the writer doesn’t really care about it, the reader won’t either.”
Also, “Imagine the [what you are to write] in your dream library.” Ideally, the topic will fit with current interests, “what’s on the news . . . what’s people talking about.” But as Conover shows, any topic can be made interesting if the writing is done well.
While intended for those “who want to write something of value that others might want to read,” "Immersion" is much more, a comprehensive manual for researchers and reporters wanting to plumb a subject deeply and write in a way that would touch a reader and reveal the interconnectedness of all humankind. The book outlines the techniques for “immersion writing”, a process that is at least half non-writing activity, raising a host of interpersonal questions having to do with ethics, morality, etc. Then the parts on writing speak of this special category of journalism that is closely related to travel writing, ethnography, and memoir. This type of writing is always looking “outward” not “inward”.
A hallmark of immersion writing “implies leaving home – or at least significant times outside it.” The writer must spend time, a lot of time, with his subject, being part of the subject’s life, involved with the attendant problems in that life. To be successful at these tasks, the immersion writer should have empathy. Like travel writing, the immersion practitioner captures atmosphere, a sense of place, providing the reader with an experience that is “deep and sustained.”
Although immersion writing requires a lot of non-literary skills like interpersonal abilities, even in the chapters on strategy and tactics, Conover never strays far from the writing process.
He warns of the dangers of the first-person viewpoint for the immersion practitioner, “every on-site researcher changes the story in some way [the scientific principle of the 'observer effect']”. To soften these effects, Conover suggests “transparency”; “let’s be open and self-aware” about ourselves as the narrator. “Your ‘I’ needs to bring some value to the piece, or else it’s a distraction.”
While the topic of this book is a subset of journalism, in the final reckoning, all writing serves the same purpose, to instruct , inform, or entertain, and if done well, leaves the reader changed.
Immersion is highly recommended and belongs on the shelf alongside such classics as Forster’s "Aspects of the Novel" and Strunk and White’s "The Elements of Style".
At age 22, Conover hopped a freight train, wanting to ride somewhere as a hobo, little knowing this starting point would be the beginning of a satisfying and rewarding career. Returning to school with the “field notes” he had taken, he found himself as a minor celebrity when other students began pummeling him with questions about his experience. He wrote about it in an article for the student newspaper which was reprinted in the college alumni magazine and before long he began receiving queries from national media. Soon Conover achieved the dream of aspiring writers, landing a book contract to expand his college thesis into a first-person narrative titled "Rolling Nowhere".
Preparing to write the book, he looked for materials and resources to guide him, but “in the end . . . . had to go it alone,” following the creed of some self-help groups, “learning by doing.” After publication, he began to teach while continuing to write as he answered students’ questions and gave advice from what he’d learned by his own experiences. Now, with "Immersion", he has written the book he wished he’d had when he first “set off to ride the rails.”
Conover covers all the steps necessary to embark into immersion writing starting with chapter one, “Why Immerse?”, which reveals the origins of the craft in ethnography, travel writing, and memoir.
Subsequent chapters lay out the techniques and methods the immersion practitioner must master in order to gain access to a subject and gather the inside information that will become the finished product, a research paper, article, or book. Much of this work is pragmatic by nature and is done outdoors expending shoe leather. Yet even such non cerebral activity is revealed by Conover to be a creative exercise.
This book gives a lot of tips for the prospective immersion writer. For instance, when choosing a subject, “it [must] intrigue you. . . if the writer doesn’t really care about it, the reader won’t either.”
Also, “Imagine the [what you are to write] in your dream library.” Ideally, the topic will fit with current interests, “what’s on the news . . . what’s people talking about.” But as Conover shows, any topic can be made interesting if the writing is done well.
While intended for those “who want to write something of value that others might want to read,” "Immersion" is much more, a comprehensive manual for researchers and reporters wanting to plumb a subject deeply and write in a way that would touch a reader and reveal the interconnectedness of all humankind. The book outlines the techniques for “immersion writing”, a process that is at least half non-writing activity, raising a host of interpersonal questions having to do with ethics, morality, etc. Then the parts on writing speak of this special category of journalism that is closely related to travel writing, ethnography, and memoir. This type of writing is always looking “outward” not “inward”.
A hallmark of immersion writing “implies leaving home – or at least significant times outside it.” The writer must spend time, a lot of time, with his subject, being part of the subject’s life, involved with the attendant problems in that life. To be successful at these tasks, the immersion writer should have empathy. Like travel writing, the immersion practitioner captures atmosphere, a sense of place, providing the reader with an experience that is “deep and sustained.”
Although immersion writing requires a lot of non-literary skills like interpersonal abilities, even in the chapters on strategy and tactics, Conover never strays far from the writing process.
He warns of the dangers of the first-person viewpoint for the immersion practitioner, “every on-site researcher changes the story in some way [the scientific principle of the 'observer effect']”. To soften these effects, Conover suggests “transparency”; “let’s be open and self-aware” about ourselves as the narrator. “Your ‘I’ needs to bring some value to the piece, or else it’s a distraction.”
While the topic of this book is a subset of journalism, in the final reckoning, all writing serves the same purpose, to instruct , inform, or entertain, and if done well, leaves the reader changed.
Immersion is highly recommended and belongs on the shelf alongside such classics as Forster’s "Aspects of the Novel" and Strunk and White’s "The Elements of Style".
June 17, 2017
Review of Immersion: A Writer’s Guide to Going Deep by Ted Conover
24 May 2017
Sydney, Australia (finished at Stolzenbach Hessen)
Original post at https://sinistralway.com/immersion-re...
Giving Up the Secret Sauce
Currently, here at the Hessen, we are concentrating lefthanded culture and philosophy into an educational formula for our daughter. Dextral folks think it’s crazy; sinistral folks have but one – repeated – recommendation: “Don’t give up The Hustle for free.”
Well, I’m here to tell you that you can purchase a perfect plot point between The Hustle and Chameleon (Northeast on the Cardinal Directions of Lefthandedness compass dial) for $18.00.
I was glad to see that the hardcover version is selling for $55.00 b\c $18.00 is too cheap for the wealth of knowledge and wisdom this text contains. Every writer; every editor; every anthropologist; every educator; every lefthanded kid trying to figure out how to make their way in a righthanded world should buy this book at their first available opportunity. Actually, please buy two copies and enlighten a lefthanded friend with the extra bit.
I have admired Professor Ted Conover’s work for years and encouraged my cultural anthropology professors to include his books in their curriculum. This text – Immersion – is the distillate version of his lifetime experience. It details an individual’s measure of determination: how bad you want something works in direct correlation with how much of The Hustle you are willing to apply. Does a new language need be learned to get the story? Do it. The prison system won’t give you access to get the scoop? Fine. Go graduate the Corrections Officers’ Academy. Are there legal contours that need be negotiated? Fine. Find or create your legal justification.
If someone or some institution refuses access, you know there is a story there — find or create a pathway:
“Access is the great spoiler of immersion wish lists. How are you going to get to know these people? Many groups, from Hell’s Angels to anti-abortion activists, are not only uninterested in publicity, they may be actively averse to it.”
These situations are where being a Chameleon comes in handy: recognize the system, evaluate the system, blend into and\or take control of the system. This text – Immersion – is the secret sauce on how to make that happen. If I could get an entire book tattooed on my left arm, this would be the one (A Pearl in the Storm by Tori Murden McClure would be on the right b\c ambidextrous).
Now this wouldn’t be a proper review if I couldn’t find something to be critical about. I have been working in journalism off and on since 1989. Objectivism was always the carrot we editors dangled before our writers to try and keep them honest on the page. We knew it was a conundrum b\c simply setting eyes on something reveals disposition and subjectivity – “an event observed is an event changed” and whatnot – but it was an ideal toward which we could all strive. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but objectivism – and the pursuit toward it – died years ago.
Ted Conover is a journalism professor at the prestigious Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute of New York University and in this text, he stated the following (I bristled when I first read it, but the more I think about it, the more I must concede that he is correct):
“Transparency, it is said, is the new objectivity. Rather than pretend we don’t have bias, don’t have an effect on how the story is told, let’s be open and self-aware about our leanings and our process. A well-wrought first-person, in my estimation, can be a step toward transparency.”
I can still grumble about the “. . . it is said . . .” bit because I want to attribute that statement to someone, but he’s right. After talking with editors and journalists alike it is confirmed: that statement is the collective estimation on what it means to be a journalist in this era.
I killed a pen from highlighting so much stuff in this masterpiece (it’s now buried across the street from Hemingway’s in Manly, Australia . . . yes, I bury my tools when they die). I can’t encourage you enough: Grab this book and hit the road! I’m still a bit shocked Professor Conover would put this much knowledge and wisdom in one spot.
24 May 2017
Sydney, Australia (finished at Stolzenbach Hessen)
Original post at https://sinistralway.com/immersion-re...
Giving Up the Secret Sauce
Currently, here at the Hessen, we are concentrating lefthanded culture and philosophy into an educational formula for our daughter. Dextral folks think it’s crazy; sinistral folks have but one – repeated – recommendation: “Don’t give up The Hustle for free.”
Well, I’m here to tell you that you can purchase a perfect plot point between The Hustle and Chameleon (Northeast on the Cardinal Directions of Lefthandedness compass dial) for $18.00.
I was glad to see that the hardcover version is selling for $55.00 b\c $18.00 is too cheap for the wealth of knowledge and wisdom this text contains. Every writer; every editor; every anthropologist; every educator; every lefthanded kid trying to figure out how to make their way in a righthanded world should buy this book at their first available opportunity. Actually, please buy two copies and enlighten a lefthanded friend with the extra bit.
I have admired Professor Ted Conover’s work for years and encouraged my cultural anthropology professors to include his books in their curriculum. This text – Immersion – is the distillate version of his lifetime experience. It details an individual’s measure of determination: how bad you want something works in direct correlation with how much of The Hustle you are willing to apply. Does a new language need be learned to get the story? Do it. The prison system won’t give you access to get the scoop? Fine. Go graduate the Corrections Officers’ Academy. Are there legal contours that need be negotiated? Fine. Find or create your legal justification.
If someone or some institution refuses access, you know there is a story there — find or create a pathway:
“Access is the great spoiler of immersion wish lists. How are you going to get to know these people? Many groups, from Hell’s Angels to anti-abortion activists, are not only uninterested in publicity, they may be actively averse to it.”
These situations are where being a Chameleon comes in handy: recognize the system, evaluate the system, blend into and\or take control of the system. This text – Immersion – is the secret sauce on how to make that happen. If I could get an entire book tattooed on my left arm, this would be the one (A Pearl in the Storm by Tori Murden McClure would be on the right b\c ambidextrous).
Now this wouldn’t be a proper review if I couldn’t find something to be critical about. I have been working in journalism off and on since 1989. Objectivism was always the carrot we editors dangled before our writers to try and keep them honest on the page. We knew it was a conundrum b\c simply setting eyes on something reveals disposition and subjectivity – “an event observed is an event changed” and whatnot – but it was an ideal toward which we could all strive. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but objectivism – and the pursuit toward it – died years ago.
Ted Conover is a journalism professor at the prestigious Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute of New York University and in this text, he stated the following (I bristled when I first read it, but the more I think about it, the more I must concede that he is correct):
“Transparency, it is said, is the new objectivity. Rather than pretend we don’t have bias, don’t have an effect on how the story is told, let’s be open and self-aware about our leanings and our process. A well-wrought first-person, in my estimation, can be a step toward transparency.”
I can still grumble about the “. . . it is said . . .” bit because I want to attribute that statement to someone, but he’s right. After talking with editors and journalists alike it is confirmed: that statement is the collective estimation on what it means to be a journalist in this era.
I killed a pen from highlighting so much stuff in this masterpiece (it’s now buried across the street from Hemingway’s in Manly, Australia . . . yes, I bury my tools when they die). I can’t encourage you enough: Grab this book and hit the road! I’m still a bit shocked Professor Conover would put this much knowledge and wisdom in one spot.
June 25, 2025
I always knew this day would come... give me a moment to dab away my mascaraed tears with an appropriately black or grey "mourning" handkerchief.
I intentionally put this little handy-dandy writing guide aside until the end of my months-long adventure of reading Ted's catalogue. And now here it is, the end of the road... Or is it?
A great piece of advice he offers in "Immersion" is to read your favorite books twice (once for enjoyment, twice for form. You know the deal). Even if it doesn't have that fun new-car smell the second time around, do it anyway! I can't believe I never fully came to that realization on my own, though I guess I almost did: I recently reread a few sections from NewJack and found myself picking up on (and admiring) the depth of Ted's observations a lot more. I guess his explicit advice to reread was the nudge I needed to reassess my "too many good books, not enough time" mindset. In other words, I'll most definitely be rereading Ted a lot.
Not that I think I'll be doing any "immersion" writing of my own any time soon. Much of the reporting/fact-finding advice and so forth was interesting to me in a more casual way (it was cool to get a glimpse "behind the curtain" into Ted's process), but it would be of much more interest to an aspiring immersion writer. That said, I do enjoy writing personal reflections, so I found a lot of his writing tips helpful. I really liked his advice to write as if you're telling the story to a good friend who is genuinely interested in hearing the whole thing, even if you ramble a little (but try not to ramble!) Feeling like you have a specific person or audience in mind when you're writing helps A LOT!
I do wish Ted had given us more detail about his own writing process-- his thought process as he's writing, how he decides what kinds of personal observations will enhance his first person narrative, how he selects quotes for compelling dialogue, etc. But I suppose Plankton also wishes Mr. Krabs would just give him the krabby patty secret formula. 🤷♀️
That said, here's a passage I found especially instructive: "As a boy, I remember my growing impatience with the slideshows that friends and neighbors would host upon return from trips overseas, with their plodding presentation of the monumental and the expected: Sure, the pyramids are cool but tell us about the day you lost your wallet. Did you taste a new flavor in all those days? Did you see a sight-- a beggar, a demonstration, a work of art-- that you can't get out of your mind? Did you have trouble focusing on the present because of news from home? What local person did you come to know best?"
In other words: focus on what stood out, what made the day less ordinary. Aim for a "dog bites man" story rather than a generic "man bites dog" one.
Anyway, I'm sad to be done with this phase of my Conover adventure, but I'm looking forward to rereading! Also, reading this book drastically increased my to-read list! So many of the writers and books he references as examples sound so interesting!
I intentionally put this little handy-dandy writing guide aside until the end of my months-long adventure of reading Ted's catalogue. And now here it is, the end of the road... Or is it?
A great piece of advice he offers in "Immersion" is to read your favorite books twice (once for enjoyment, twice for form. You know the deal). Even if it doesn't have that fun new-car smell the second time around, do it anyway! I can't believe I never fully came to that realization on my own, though I guess I almost did: I recently reread a few sections from NewJack and found myself picking up on (and admiring) the depth of Ted's observations a lot more. I guess his explicit advice to reread was the nudge I needed to reassess my "too many good books, not enough time" mindset. In other words, I'll most definitely be rereading Ted a lot.
Not that I think I'll be doing any "immersion" writing of my own any time soon. Much of the reporting/fact-finding advice and so forth was interesting to me in a more casual way (it was cool to get a glimpse "behind the curtain" into Ted's process), but it would be of much more interest to an aspiring immersion writer. That said, I do enjoy writing personal reflections, so I found a lot of his writing tips helpful. I really liked his advice to write as if you're telling the story to a good friend who is genuinely interested in hearing the whole thing, even if you ramble a little (but try not to ramble!) Feeling like you have a specific person or audience in mind when you're writing helps A LOT!
I do wish Ted had given us more detail about his own writing process-- his thought process as he's writing, how he decides what kinds of personal observations will enhance his first person narrative, how he selects quotes for compelling dialogue, etc. But I suppose Plankton also wishes Mr. Krabs would just give him the krabby patty secret formula. 🤷♀️
That said, here's a passage I found especially instructive: "As a boy, I remember my growing impatience with the slideshows that friends and neighbors would host upon return from trips overseas, with their plodding presentation of the monumental and the expected: Sure, the pyramids are cool but tell us about the day you lost your wallet. Did you taste a new flavor in all those days? Did you see a sight-- a beggar, a demonstration, a work of art-- that you can't get out of your mind? Did you have trouble focusing on the present because of news from home? What local person did you come to know best?"
In other words: focus on what stood out, what made the day less ordinary. Aim for a "dog bites man" story rather than a generic "man bites dog" one.
Anyway, I'm sad to be done with this phase of my Conover adventure, but I'm looking forward to rereading! Also, reading this book drastically increased my to-read list! So many of the writers and books he references as examples sound so interesting!
December 22, 2025
Read as part of "The Reporters" curriculum. I guess at this point I've been doing immersion journalism for more than 15 years, so it should be a relief that the whole book confirmed my experience rather than felt revelationary—but still affirming. Read between Kenya, California, and Ukraine.
"...good writers often vary the focal length of their attension. Some things need to be observed close up—the skinned knee, the bruise, the ripe in the jersey, or the hand on the shoulder. Other things might best be observed from a distance—not from the coach's bench, in other words (though your access to that bench is precious), but maybe from that one bleacher toward the back..." -77-78
"His experience of war was 'green-lit and strange.' Percy's diction, lyric and impressionistic, comes from poetry, not news." -140
"Spending long periods of time with people different from ourselves can affect our own sense of identity." -152
Recommends so many books! Including Jack Hart's Storycraft: The Complete Guide to Writing Narrative Nonfiction. My reading list is TOO LONG right now, but I'd love at some distant point of bandwidth in the future to return to his recommendations.
"...good writers often vary the focal length of their attension. Some things need to be observed close up—the skinned knee, the bruise, the ripe in the jersey, or the hand on the shoulder. Other things might best be observed from a distance—not from the coach's bench, in other words (though your access to that bench is precious), but maybe from that one bleacher toward the back..." -77-78
"His experience of war was 'green-lit and strange.' Percy's diction, lyric and impressionistic, comes from poetry, not news." -140
"Spending long periods of time with people different from ourselves can affect our own sense of identity." -152
Recommends so many books! Including Jack Hart's Storycraft: The Complete Guide to Writing Narrative Nonfiction. My reading list is TOO LONG right now, but I'd love at some distant point of bandwidth in the future to return to his recommendations.
July 28, 2023
Conover's Immersion is an insider's account immersion writing, the lengthy process of diving deep into a subject in an effort to understand the subject and people and write about it. Conover uses his own experiences as an immersion writer and how he happened into this style of writing. This book is a well structured how-to that feels at times like an interesting classroom lecture and book review. With thoughtful sections on how to begin, how to act and not act during an immersion, writing the narrative, as well as pitfalls, legal issues, and responsibilities, this writer's guide is is a master class from a master of the subject.
December 10, 2018
Immersion: A Writer's Guide to Going Deep by Ted Conover (University of Chicago Press 2016) (808.02). Ted Conover is one of the best nonfiction writers working in his chosen genre – immersive writing. This is a handy little instructional book on how a writer becomes immersed in a story. Give this a try; immersion is easier demonstrated than described. My rating: 7/10, finished 12/9/18.
August 6, 2019
For most established writers, most of the material in "Immersion" is more validation than new tips, techniques, or insight. Still, Conover's book lays out the steps to immersive writing logically (from picking a topic, to writing it, to dealing with the aftermath).
March 17, 2022
Very interesting with great advice not just on how to do immersion writing, but also any creative nonfiction project, including advice and varied examples for approach and structure. Great annotated bibliography of recommended books - immersion writing and some craft books.
July 8, 2017
Everything you need to need to know, no more, no less. Wish I'd read this when I was starting out.
July 15, 2018
I've been thinking of taking on a new reporting project for the first time in a while and this is what I needed to read right now.
January 7, 2023
Inspiring for sure.
September 9, 2024
I've read a lot of immersion journalism and, during my newspaper career, wrote some. Ted Conover is a master, and this book explains everything that such a writer should keep in mind and do.
February 8, 2017
This is the kind of book I wish I read when I was starting out in feature journalism, about six years ago. I had no idea what I was doing, other than the fact that I thought I wanted to be doing the sort of narrative magazine work where a writer enters an interesting or memorable situation, has an experience, and then attempts to do it justice on the page. Instead, I made it up as I went along: sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding, but always learning on the job. (Still am learning, and will always be.)
Ted Conover is an acclaimed American writer who is extremely fond of a specialised version of feature writing, which he terms 'immersion reporting'. This is where he embeds into a new world or culture to participate in its trials and rituals – importantly, not as an outsider, but as a member of the group, sometimes unidentified and undercover. Over three decades, he has guarded prisoners in Sing Sing, inspected freshly-killed meat for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and crossed the border with Mexican immigrants. Each experience has been fodder for books or long articles on the subject. The man is deeply committed to his work, and when I saw he had written a guidebook to this kind of writing, my eyes lit up.
"Immersion tells the reader: this is no drive-by," Conover writes. "I did more than get a quote. I lingered and listened. I got to know them as multidimensional. I probably know even more – often much more – than I have written. This reporting is authoritative. And this reporter can be viewed as a bearer of commitments, first to his subject and second to his craft."
'Immersion' is a great book for writers of all levels, as hard-earned wisdom and memorable anecdotes appear on almost every page. Conover now teaches journalism at New York University, and much of this book appears to be based on content he's covered in classrooms. Yet because his voice is so strong on the page, and because he is a master of this craft, there is no whiff of academic pretension. I read this book during a time where I was questioning myself about the kind of work I want to be doing, and I found it immensely helpful and heartening in that respect. Young writers who absorb this work and its many lessons will be putting themselves far ahead of their peers. Highly recommended.
Ted Conover is an acclaimed American writer who is extremely fond of a specialised version of feature writing, which he terms 'immersion reporting'. This is where he embeds into a new world or culture to participate in its trials and rituals – importantly, not as an outsider, but as a member of the group, sometimes unidentified and undercover. Over three decades, he has guarded prisoners in Sing Sing, inspected freshly-killed meat for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and crossed the border with Mexican immigrants. Each experience has been fodder for books or long articles on the subject. The man is deeply committed to his work, and when I saw he had written a guidebook to this kind of writing, my eyes lit up.
"Immersion tells the reader: this is no drive-by," Conover writes. "I did more than get a quote. I lingered and listened. I got to know them as multidimensional. I probably know even more – often much more – than I have written. This reporting is authoritative. And this reporter can be viewed as a bearer of commitments, first to his subject and second to his craft."
'Immersion' is a great book for writers of all levels, as hard-earned wisdom and memorable anecdotes appear on almost every page. Conover now teaches journalism at New York University, and much of this book appears to be based on content he's covered in classrooms. Yet because his voice is so strong on the page, and because he is a master of this craft, there is no whiff of academic pretension. I read this book during a time where I was questioning myself about the kind of work I want to be doing, and I found it immensely helpful and heartening in that respect. Young writers who absorb this work and its many lessons will be putting themselves far ahead of their peers. Highly recommended.
January 22, 2020
Ted Conover wrote this book because he said it is a guide he wished he had when he set out to write his first immersive story. It offers ethical guidelines and pointers to writers navigating immersive storytelling, while also incorporating journalistic and ethnographic considerations. This book is accessible and insightful for someone with an investigative journalist such as myself, but I also used this book as an English grad student to provide context and perspective to a work of immersive journalism in a paper. This book was used by an author whose work I was examining, and it is something I plan to use when teaching my high school students as well. Conover is a respected voice in the world of literary journalism, and he also has a great annotated bibliography, which I plan to dig into in the new year.
November 15, 2016
Make sure to read this book with a pen, because there's lots you'll want to underline and star and go back to later to think about. This "field guide" strikes a solid balance between anecdote and instruction, all in a voice thats readable, relatable, and somehow familiar.
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