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I don’t know what I’ll do if he fires me. Not only because finding work at an actual physical newspaper is as hard as getting high heels on a pig, but because working for this newspaper is the only way I can get my fix and remain anonymous.
When I was younger I was the epitome of a fly on the wall. I wanted to know all the spicy gossip and interesting news that went on in my neighborhood. I interviewed classmates and neighbors. Secrets were unheard of to me, if there was information I was going to get it. My research and notebooks didn’t leave much room for friends, but that was okay, I didn’t need any. I had my pencil and pad.
It wasn’t until my sophomore year in highschool when I published an article about Macy Lynn, the long standing popular girl that I learned the repercussions of sharing everything. I caught her shopping at a second hand store two towns over. It was quite the scandal in the halls of our small high school. I had thought it was a great article, but she thought it was an attack on her status. Either way I wore a target on my back the rest of my time in high school. No one wanted to talk to me in fear that I would spill all of their secrets and the bullying ramped up big time.
None of that stopped me from sticking my nose where it shouldn’t be. Being nosy is my vice and I’ll do anything to scratch that itch. As long as I don’t get beat up for it any more. This is why I need my job here at the Nova Tribune.
Larry and I clean up the mess as slow as possible, but it’s not slow enough. I walk at a snail's pace into Sam’s office.
“Ella, have a seat.” He motions to the chair right in front of him.
“I’m so sorry about the printer, I don’t know what happened, it just started going haywire. If anything, it’s a good thing that it broke when it did. Think about it, something that temperamental could’ve been a real danger to the rest of the employees …”
Sam puts his hand up. I stop talking right along with stop breathing as I wait for him to say whatever he is going to say.
“I’m not concerned about the printer, what I’m concerned about is your output.”
Say what now?
“My output? I don’t understand. I submit more articles than half of the entire writers’ pool. My stuff is always on point and fresh.”
“And boring. We’re a paper newspaper trying to survive in an internet world. People nowadays aren’t looking for facts about tainted water, they want to know what shoes Kim Kardashian is wearing or who Ashlynn Space is dating. Those are the types of stories we need. Murphy and Esther are giving me great pieces, that’s what we need to be running.”
This is crazy, he can’t be serious. “Their pieces are all fluff, filled with speculation and hearsay. That’s not real journalism, that’s the makings of a gossip rag.”
“Are you calling my paper a gossip rag?” He leans back in his chair and glares at me.
Suddenly I feel like a little girl instead of the twenty-five-year-old journalist that I am. “No sir, I would never … I ... You … I …”
“Look, you know we’re on the edge right now. We need to pull in more readers or we’re going to sink.” He leans forward on the desk, folds his hands and sighs a big breath. “I’m sorry to say this since you’ve been with us for a while now, but if I don’t start seeing something earth shattering from you and I mean right away I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Wait, what? You’re going to fire me if I don’t start publishing articles about celebrities?” I can feel my eyes beginning to water.
“Ella, you’re a smart girl. Dedicated and relentless, that’s one of the main reasons I kept you on for so long. I’m not going to tell you what you need to do. You’ll get me something spectacular, I have all the faith in the world.” He pulls out his iPad and pen, I’ve been dismissed.
“Yes, sir.” I nod and stand from my chair.
I walk out of his office without another word. If my student loans and zero-saving balance weren’t a factor I’d have told Sam to shove his assignment up his sloppy, rear end. I’m a damn good reporter, one of the best he’s got. Problem is now I’m going to have to pull out my bag of tricks in order to keep my job.
This is going to be a challenge for sure, but I was born to be a journalist and he’s about to find out why.
2
percy
Record profits.
For the third year in a row since I’ve taken over as CEO of Snow Chronicle and publishing I’ve managed to reach record profits.
So why does it feel like it’s not enough?
“Percy, did you hear me?” Greg leans forward slightly. One eyebrow is cocked higher than the other and his head tilted slightly to the side.
“Yes, that’s great news. What about distribution?”
“There was a small drop right after state elections, but the trend is going back up. We’ll have those customers back in no time and more.” Greg leans back in the chair with a pleased smile on his face. Of course, I’m pleased as well. Except part of me wonders what we’re going to have to do in order to maintain this outcome.
The Snow Chronicle is one of the only physical newspapers in the country that is still doing well, actually according to the numbers Greg just gave me, one of the only ones prospering. We’ve managed to do this, because the community trusts us to give them unbiased news and up to date information. It was my father’s vision and now that it’s been passed on to me the responsibility to keep that vision alive falls squarely on my shoulders.
