Which is not to say that hot camera lights alone spawn the filibuster question. It breeds wherever the interviewer gropes Proud, or is determined to hold the floor, and is mindless of the Law of Diminishing Returns: the longer the question, the shorter the reply.

And there is a point of no return. When one reporter persisted in asking George C. Marshall involved questions, Marshall said, "Would you mind repeating what you have just tried to say?" If you must ask a complicated question, and the subject seems puzzled, never ask, "Did you understand that?" Instead, ask "Did I make myself clear?" You don't want to seem condescending.

Keep your questions short, even if unsweet. If your question requires background, give it to your subject as concisely as possible, then keep your question short and separate from that pack of facts. "Busing means that thousands of white students will be attending predominantly black schools. (Pause.) How will you recruit those students?"

Don't short-circuit your interviewee: ask him one question at a time. I once asked Gay Talese a long-winded, two-part question in the midst of a discussion of celebrity interviews. "Sinatra is known as a man who is not very cooperative with journalists," I began, "and you say in your introduction to Fame and Obscurity that DiMaggio started to cooperate with you on the profile you wrote, then had a reversal. When this happens - when you run into someone like Sinatra who is insulated from journalists, or when you run into a reluctant subject like DiMaggio - how do you get in there close enough to do the story anyway?" Ouch.

"Let's take the Sinatra one first," began Talese - and, of course, the discussion of DiMaggio was bypassed. A two-part question is often like a baseball pitcher wasting a pitch: a discriminating batter just won't go for it.