48 Journalism of Public Performance 1

October 14, 2011 – Friday 4:30pm, Nabla Observer, West Ouigab

I just closed my laptop after I saved the finalized the draft for my article tomorrow in a flash drive for my editor's consideration. At first, I loved it when I was promoted to a feature writer because of the pay but also I can write whatever I want to write about. A few months in on the job, however, I realized that's not the case. The editor refuses most of the stuff I propose and replace them with topics he wants instead.

I understand however why the editor wants this control. The previous feature writer basically wrote articles that not many people read. That resulted to the newspaper receiving a lot of mails and e-mails every day from a lot of our readers, all suggestions on what to write about. The previous feature writer basically ignored the suggestions and kept on writing stuff he wants to write about. The editor too could not do anything because the previous feature writer has many friends among the newspaper's sponsors. It also didn't help that the previous feature writer was the oldest employee in the newspaper before he retired.

Since I took over, we have received less and less suggestions from our readers which meant that they liked what I was writing, and that the editor's ideas for articles are actually good and attractive to the readers. The editor also let me take all the credit, so it's not like I can complain. I like the editor as a person as he treats every journalist in the newspaper fairy and generously; I just felt more freedom writing real articles about real news, real events, and real people.

I find writing these feature articles very tedious. The draft I just wrote up is one good example. Who cares if a Nabla artist's painting sold for 3 million BGC? That's so stupid. It's not like it's a beautiful painting either. Even my 5 year-old nephew can paint something like that. I bet the painter just splashed different colors of paint on the canvas and called it a day. And critics called it his masterpiece. How pretentious. I bet the editor knows that it's stupid too; he knows however, that it's an interesting topic for people.

I might have volunteered for demotion had it not for my goal of becoming one of the bosses of the newspaper. I was about to crack an entertainment company's terrible practices towards its artists when I got promoted after the previous feature writer suddenly resigned. Because of the sudden promotion, I had to pass my assortment of notes about the case to Madi, a fellow journalist.

I really didn't make friends in the newspaper, and Madi is just an acquaintance at best. Thankfully, he was able to complete my investigation and added more before publishing an article under our names. I discovered at first that the entertainment company would send their new artists to gigs and keep the pay, under the excuse of exposure and compensation for the signing fee.

In addition to my discovery, Madi also discovered that that company finds promising artists and sign them to what is almost a sl*ve contract. They would offer these hungry artists at least a 5 year exclusive contract and would ask the artist to publish their work under the company's name. It's basically giving up their copyright. In addition to the unreasonable conditions, the company would include sky high penalty fee if ever the artists break the contract.

The artists, having no other entertainment company approach them would sign the devil's contract hoping that it will change their lives for the better. Many of them however would just end up trapped in the company's metaphorical dungeon until their contract is over and leave just as desolate as they have been when they entered the company. Worse is that they lost years they can never get back.

Unfortunately, even though the article made me and Madi's names famous, it did not do anything to that evil entertainment company at all because how legally tight the contracts they gave. The best the article did is to warn aspiring artists to be careful choosing an entertainment company to sign with and read the contracts they are offered thoroughly.

I arrived in front of the editor's office, knocked on the door, before entering. "Oh. You're submitting early, Ophelia?" The editor said as I walked in to his office. "Here. Read it first." I replied as I passed him the flash drive I saved my draft in. Two minutes later, the editor finally looked up from his computer. "Good. We can print this tomorrow. I'm guessing you're clocking out early?" The editor asked. "Yes. I don't feel too well." I lied. "Okay. You worked hard. Call me tomorrow if it gets worse." The editor said. "Thank you sir." I replied.

I was about to leave his office when the editor called out to me. "Ophelia." I looked back to see him wearing a more serious face. "How is it going with the author by the way? Didn't you tell me you personally know his agent?" The editor asked.

"I do know his agent. I called the author himself even but I was refused to even have a phone interview. It's been ten months since then and he still hasn't gotten back to me; I don't think he will either in the future." I replied wryly. "What? Is he dead or something?" The editor asked, now frowning. "Oh. No, no. Maybe he just doesn't want the attention. His agent showed me his upcoming book that will be released next month, so I called Mr. Grimmauld again. It's just that he blocked my cellphone number." I explained.

"I see… I've met plenty of people like him, so I think you're right. It's just unfortunate we can't get an interview. Well, as long as he's alive, he gives Ouigab City's authors more prestige." The editor said. If there's an interest the editor and I have in common, it's T.L.D. Grimmauld who wrote the new fairy tales. "BUT… I still hope you don't give up convincing the agent to set up a meeting with the author, alright? You can go." The editor said. "Yes sir, I will try again for the nth time." I replied and walked out the office.

I know that my comment just now was sarcastic, and that the editor did not intend to offend me, but I'm a journalist, and the editor recognized me as one so he should have realized that it's not like I haven't done anything I can to meet the author. He should also know how frustrating it is for a journalist to not get a good scoop even though they're close to it.

I have gotten really close to an interview with Mr. Grimmauld; it's just that the person blocking my way is not only a person I know; he's also a good friend. Chala, when I was just a rookie journalist, helped me get access to places a rookie author like I was should not have accessed. Not only that, over the years, he helped me write articles about Teungeb's literary circles. Even though we used each other in the beginning, a strong friendship started from it and lasted even after twelve years later.

If Mr. Grimmauld's agent was anyone else, I would have even resorted to bribery. It's just I value my friendship with Chala too much and it's not like he didn't let me take a peek at what Mr. Grimmauld is like either. The fundamental reason stopping me more importantly is Mr. Grimmauld himself. If he doesn't want to be interviewed, then there's nothing I can do. Now that he's become even more famous and established his name internationally, I bet Mr. Grimmauld would keep to himself even tighter than the time I talked to him.

In the end, the only articles I wrote about him are the analyses of his stories, the coverage of his book sales and international recognition. Other newspapers, TV news, and radio news also reported similar articles like the ones I've published about him, but the only difference is that I can brag to them that I was able to talk with Mr. Grimmauld personally and has an idea about his personality.

Thinking about this only made me feel more frustrated so I took a deep breath and walked back to my cubicle. After sitting down for a few minutes, I grabbed my car keys and wallet, and finally left the office.

I drove my car out of the parking lot and headed for Monna Park, the real reason why I got off the office early. I usually don't get off work before six in the evening but tonight, I have something to see. Last week, when I was doing my research at Monna Park for my article about the best places in the city that one can relax at for free; my attention was caught by a young man named Yawat who was performing for free by the park's lake, with a small crowd watching him.

He looks to be in his early twenties but I can't be certain because of the way he dresses and the huge vintage looking sunglasses and hat he wore. If one looks at his build alone, one would mistake him for a professional swimmer or runner. If I hadn't heard him singing before I saw his appearance, I would have laughed at what could have looked like a professional athlete holding a guitar, surrounded by legitimate sound equipment set-up.

Because of how great he sounded though, I decided to stay and watch his whole performance. I was a little disappointed when his set ended but when I looked at the time, an hour already passed. Thankfully, he promised that he will bring his band with him tonight and with that, I'm filled with anticipation as I drove closer to Monna Park.