You’re staring at the screen. You’ve got something to say, but there’s a hesitation: Will anyone care? Is this actually worth sharing?
As someone who helps startups shape their narratives, I’ve been there many times.
Founders come to me to help tell their story. Sometimes it’s announcing a funding round. Sometimes it’s just figuring out how to share their journey in a way that feels real and powerful.
And while every founder’s story is different, I know I’ve always got one timeless framework to help make sense of it all: The 7 elements of newsworthiness.
These elements have their roots in traditional journalism, but they’re just as relevant in 2025 as they were in the days of print newspapers.
In fact, I’d argue they’re even more valuable now, when every business is also a publisher and every social post competes for attention. Let’s break them down, one by one. And I’ll show you how I use each in real storytelling.
1. Timeliness: Why Now?
The first element is timeliness, and it’s a big one.
If your story connects to something happening right now – or just about to happen – it instantly becomes more relevant. A great story shared too late can easily fall flat. We’ve all seen that happen.
Let’s say you’re writing about a climate-tech startup. If they’ve just launched a pilot program in the wake of a new government policy or a surge in public interest, you’ve got timeliness on your side. You’re connecting to the moment. The wave is already rising – and your story catches it.
I always ask: What makes this story relevant today? Has something just launched? Is there a milestone, an announcement, a shift in the ecosystem?
Timeliness is tapping into the energy of now.
2. Proximity: Who’s Close to This?
Proximity is about connection.
A startup in Sydney solving housing issues feels closer to a reader there than a startup doing the same thing in Berlin.
The closer the story feels to the reader’s world, the more likely they are to care. But proximity doesn’t have to mean geography – it can also just mean relatable.
That’s why I love telling stories that feel familiar but stretch the edges of what’s possible. Like a founder from a small regional town breaking into global healthtech. If you’re a uni student reading about someone who turned their thesis into a startup, that’s going to hit close to home, even if they’re in another city.
The question I always come back to is: Who will see themselves in this story?
The more a reader feels like this could be me or this could affect someone I know, the more powerful the story becomes.
3. Conflict: What’s at Stake?
Let’s be honest: people are drawn to tension.
But conflict doesn’t mean drama for drama’s sake. It means identifying the challenge at the heart of the story.
Startups, by nature, are built on conflict. They exist because something’s broken, outdated, or unfair – and someone is trying to fix it. That’s the story.
A founder I worked with recently was building a virtual reality rehab tool for stroke survivors. The conflict? Convincing hospitals and health regulators to adopt a totally new approach. The tension was real: the need for innovation vs. the caution of legacy systems.
Conflict gives a story shape. It introduces stakes. It answers the question: What’s in the way – and what’s being risked to overcome it?
Used well, conflict adds gravity without losing yourself to hype.
4. Impact: Who’s Affected and How?
Impact is the element that answers, “So what?”
The more your story affects people’s real lives – how they work, live, think, or feel – the more newsworthy it becomes.
If a new startup helps small businesses automate admin so they can get hours of their week back, that’s impact. If a founder is creating tech to help regional communities access healthcare more easily, that’s impact.
And the scale of impact matters too. Is it niche but deep? Broad but light? Either can work, depending on the story.
Whenever I write or coach someone on storytelling, I try to hold this lens up: What will change for the audience if they read this?
If it could make them smarter, more hopeful, more aware – or even just more curious – it has impact.
5. Prominence: Who’s at the Centre of the Story?
Prominence is the storytelling version of star power.
A well-known name can instantly catapult a story into the limelight. But prominence is relative. It’s not always about global fame – it’s about who matters to your audience.
A prominent founder in the Australian startup ecosystem might be more newsworthy to a local reader than a randomly-selected Silicon Valley billionaire. A high school captain can be more relevant in a school newsletter than a state politician.
Sometimes, you can even build this prominence by associating your story with other brands your audience knows: “This startup is backed by Blackbird Ventures.” “This founder previously worked at Atlassian.”
It’s the same reason YouTubers put celebrities and brand logos in their thumbnails – they give a hook the audience knows. And this makes it safer to click through.
These connections matter. They tell your audience, “Pay attention – this is relevant to you.”
6. Rarity: What’s Unusual About This?
Our brains are wired to notice what’s different.
A startup solving a problem no one’s tackled before. A founder under 18 building a global app. A company turning wastewater into building materials. These stories work because they break expectations.
In storytelling, rarity is your angle. You don’t need to exaggerate. Just look closely. What’s the twist that makes this unlike all the other stories like it?
Sometimes what feels ordinary at first glance becomes rare when you zoom in: Is this someone normally unassociated with this topic? Is this happening somewhere it usually wouldn’t?
When you find what is uncommon, it makes it far easier for your story to find a spotlight.
7. Human Interest: What Will People Feel?
Finally, we land where all good stories should: with heart.
Human interest is what makes people stop scrolling. It’s what makes them smile, cry, or sit back and say, “Wow.”
We connect with emotion more than logic. It’s what makes people remember your story days or weeks later – not because of a stat or quote, but because it moved them.
That’s why a story about a founder nearly giving up – then finally getting traction – can be more powerful than a list of product features.
We want stories that remind us of our own fears, hopes, and grit.
When I teach communication, this is the skill I come back to again and again: not just sharing facts, but making people care.
At its best, storytelling builds empathy. It makes the world feel smaller and more connected. That’s the magic of human interest. It’s the truth told with care.
Putting It All Together
The most powerful stories don’t rely on just one element. They combine several.
A timely, local story about a first-time founder (timeliness, proximity, rarity) solving a problem affecting thousands (impact), backed by a well-known investor (prominence), with a clear regulatory hurdle (conflict), and a deeply personal journey behind it all (human interest)?
That’s the full set:
- What’s changing now? (Timeliness)
- Who’s this close to? (Proximity)
- What’s the tension? (Conflict)
- Who’s affected? (Impact)
- Who’s involved? (Prominence)
- What’s unusual? (Rarity)
- What will people feel? (Human Interest)
Seven out of seven. That’s a story people want to read.
But you don’t need all seven. Even two or three – used well – can turn a basic update into something memorable. And that’s what gives you a story worth telling.
