Stay Tuned

Chapter 8

The rush of Monday gave me a temporary reprieve from thinking about Mother, worrying about Chris, and missing Kelly.

We had a full slate of stories, which meant a busy afternoon. Tensions were high, and somehow our normal staff meeting banter had suddenly morphed into a scene from Clash of the Titans.

“We’ll lead with the kidnapping attempt.” I pointed at the line-up, marker-bright, on the white-board.

“Live shot from the street scene, sound-bites from eyewitnesses, the family, the cops. We can wrap it with local and national stats.”

Murmurs rose around the room. The troops were restless and wanted assignments.
    
Tim Donaldson shook his head. “The school vandalism. It’s visual. An attention-grabber. Someone, probably kids, painted a damn mural on the cafeteria wall.” His gaze scraped across the room. “Have you seen the VO? It’s incredible.”
    
Before anyone else could breathe a response, I snatched at the brief lull. “Incredible or not, let’s think about our audience.” The station’s demographics spun through my brain into a neat list. “Our six o’clock viewers. Fifty-seven percent female, twenty-six to fifty years old, affluent. Most are married home-owners with two or more children.” I sucked in my breath and let the numbers sink in.
    
Sure, I had to admit I was intrigued with the vandalism. Did it deserve a slot in the newscast? Of course. Was it more than a student pulling a prank? Probably not. But, we had some time to find out.
    
There wouldn’t, however, be another day of reckoning for some creep who tried to abduct an adorable three-year old girl in broad daylight. And it was my job to predict the issues our viewers cared most about.
    
Those careful and deliberate choices made WSGA the city’s top-rated news show. Of course, it helped that viewers loved Alyssa and Tim. It helped that our news director could call the governor’s office at a moment’s notice and get a sound bite. It all helped, but the stories were paramount. Without a meaningful newscast, it was all just bright ribbons and pretty wrapping on an empty package.
    
I’d done my time in the trenches. Worked my way up from coffee-carrying intern and part-time assistant to senior producer. My reputation rested on a simple code of ethics:
 
Find the truth and report it. No making up sources, no embellishment. A strict, ‘No BS’ policy. Which was exactly why I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—compromise.
    
“Look, our audience is made up of moms and dads who want to feel safe at night when they tuck their kids into bed. They want to see this perp behind bars.” I folded my arms and hugged my elbows close.

“They want to see the DA get this guy twenty to life. Don’t you?”
    
Heads bobbed in agreement. Tim, on the other hand, shrugged in semi-defiance and frowned out the window. Drew would normally weigh in, but he was out at a meeting across town.
    
Someone, or something, had to be the tiebreaker. And soon. The more time spent arguing, the less time to write, copy, check video, and make beat calls.
    
Compromise was key. I bit my bottom lip. “We’ll do a two-part series, if this pans out into something. Provided this is not fluff—and you can get a few students and parents to talk.”
    
Tim looked a little pale.
    
“All right by you, Mr. Monet…or is it Mr. Van Gogh?”
    
“Sure, fine.” Tim’s voice slurred as he tugged his left ear. “Besides, I still have my lobe.”
    
“I’ll give you that one,” I teased back, “but your vandalism story is bottom of the A-block material…budding artistes or not.”

The room tittered with laughter.

Tim waved his reporter’s notebook in the air. “Okay. You win.”

“Thank you,” I swooped into a mock bow. “Go on, get to work everybody.”

Five minutes after the staff meeting wrapped up, Alyssa strolled into the newsroom, admiring her reflection in a small makeup mirror. She checked her lip-gloss, snapped the compact closed, and lifted her chin, waiting for someone to notice her.

Joe breezed by, carrying over a script. “Alyssa, your interview’s here.”

She blinked her eyes wide and lowered her lashes to glance at the ornate watch on her thin wrist. “Is it that time already? Did I miss the meeting?”

“Yep,” I answered, smiling at her bewildered expression. It was the same thing she said every single day. “How about I walk with you downstairs?” No need for her to get lost on the way to the studio.

For May sweeps, our next Nielsen ratings period, I’d dreamed up a segment to punch up the 5:30 time slot, the important lead-in to WSGA’s main news show. Cable and DirecTV gave viewers hundreds of other choices twenty-four seven, anything from cooking shows to ultimate fighting, so as a local news station, we had to battle hard to retain viewership.
    
The premise was this:
 
If viewers were watching at 5:30, they’d keep watching. People, being creatures of habit, don’t like changing channels. We just needed a product—a show with some sizzle—right before the six o’clock news.
    
Earlier this year, Drew tested focus groups with Mrs. Foodie, Mr. Fix-Everything, and other syndicated shows. Not one lit a fire with our audience. In fact, one, Travel with Tony, was so boring that one of our focus group participants actually fell asleep eating his pizza.
     
Ask Anything was born.
    
Dr. Jennifer Freeman, of Macon Ob/Gyn, was our first Ask Anything interview. To follow was a researcher who studied children with autism, a former architect who built entire cities out of toothpicks, and a zoologist who was bringing in baby Bengal tigers. WSGA viewers had selected every one of them.
    
We’d posted the list of top experts on our website, then encouraged people to email with questions. Ask Anything was scheduled to run Monday through Friday at 5:30 during our first full week of sweeps.
    
Before his vacation, I’d pressed Drew to go live with the interviews, but he overruled me with the possibility that the “experts” might be a little nervous. “Let’s see how it goes,” he cautioned. “You never know with live TV.”
    
Being the token on-air alpha female, Alyssa was assigned to Dr. Freeman. Tim could handle the others. The two had chatted amicably when introduced, and I hoped the interview would come off more like a conversation. We’d put them on the noon set, which resembled a living room with cushy chairs, a thick area rug, and a small table between them.

I checked my watch. We were ready to get started.