Thursday early evening, Editor's office, Fandom Island Gazette building
"Of course it's a newspaper!" Carl pulled a copy of the first issue of the Fandom Island Gazette off the stack sitting on his desk and shook it at the phone, as if the man on the other end could see it. Which actually he could, since Carl had sent him a copy. What with him being the one who paid for the whole venture, Carl figured he should have the first one off the press. "What did you think it was?"
...
"Science fiction magazine? Of course not!" Could Carl sound any more offended? "Each of these articles is real news! Thoroughly investigated and accurately reported by..."
...
"I promise you they are real and fully explainable! I was just saving that for the follow-up. Investigative journalism 101, you get the reader interested." Was he going to buy that?
...
"An advice column?!" Apparently not, And apparently Carl could sound more offended. He dropped the paper to his desk. "No. I mean, how is that even possible? They don't have wire service out here. They barely have electricity! Puzzles... ADS? This is a NEWSpaper!"
He should never have sent that copy.
Carl's head fell to his hand. He was feeling sympathy, suddenly, for all the editors and publishers he'd accused of brown-nosing over the years. Keeping the purse-holder happy was going to be the death of him, especially when said purse-holder wanted to keep refilling that purse. Something Carl wasn't as interested in, as a journalist.
But as an Editor... Carl let the voice on the phone continue on with its list of demands and simply stared at the piles of already printed Gazettes full of NEWS that he was going to have to scrap. When Carl could finally hang up, he reached into his desk for the Fandom Island phone book and, taking a deep breath, began cold calling any still-open businesses to ask if they would be interested in ad space.
[FINALLY got this up! If you want to have Carl call your company, he did! It can be handwavy or you can ping in and play! Feel free to say no or to say yes or to break his brain by requesting a full page ad of a polar bear eating ice cream in a blizzard. Please stand by for some OCD?]
...
"Science fiction magazine? Of course not!" Could Carl sound any more offended? "Each of these articles is real news! Thoroughly investigated and accurately reported by..."
...
"I promise you they are real and fully explainable! I was just saving that for the follow-up. Investigative journalism 101, you get the reader interested." Was he going to buy that?
...
"An advice column?!" Apparently not, And apparently Carl could sound more offended. He dropped the paper to his desk. "No. I mean, how is that even possible? They don't have wire service out here. They barely have electricity! Puzzles... ADS? This is a NEWSpaper!"
He should never have sent that copy.
Carl's head fell to his hand. He was feeling sympathy, suddenly, for all the editors and publishers he'd accused of brown-nosing over the years. Keeping the purse-holder happy was going to be the death of him, especially when said purse-holder wanted to keep refilling that purse. Something Carl wasn't as interested in, as a journalist.
But as an Editor... Carl let the voice on the phone continue on with its list of demands and simply stared at the piles of already printed Gazettes full of NEWS that he was going to have to scrap. When Carl could finally hang up, he reached into his desk for the Fandom Island phone book and, taking a deep breath, began cold calling any still-open businesses to ask if they would be interested in ad space.
[FINALLY got this up! If you want to have Carl call your company, he did! It can be handwavy or you can ping in and play! Feel free to say no or to say yes or to break his brain by requesting a full page ad of a polar bear eating ice cream in a blizzard. Please stand by for some OCD?]