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next At 2:30, I have to call the contact in Chicago. She is crisp. The first time I talked to her, she said, "I was expecting your call yesterday." Immediately, I am on the defensive. So today she will expect me to have the latest version of the file. She told me yesterday that there is a newer version than the version I have. So I wrote to my editor, who is a freelance editor filling in for my original, vacationing editor, asking him to send me the latest version. That was yesterday. I haven't heard a word back from him yet. It is 1:44 p.m. I'm supposed to call her at 2:30 p.m. That is 4:30 p.m. her time. She will be anxious to get off the phone, leave work, change into her sneakers and drive back to Joliet. I will have just this one chance to talk to her before the story is due at 9 a.m. Monday. If I don't get everything I need out of this one phone call, I'm screwed. She will be tapping her fingers on the desk. She will be easing a pair of Nikes out of her oversized Coach carryall. Coach is very big in the Midwest. In the cities, I mean. But I don't even have the latest version of the article, which I'm supposed to stretch to twice its current length. Take a deep breath. I just wrote to Stephen to ask him if he has the fill-in editor's phone number. Stephen works at the company, but not on this project. Tick tock, tick tock. We used to work together, but he moved up the chain of command. When we worked together, I felt a million times more confident about everything. Stephen always protects me, protects my feelings. He is the best sort of friend. I asked him if he has access to the files. Could he get it for me? Tick tock, tick tock. Maybe I'd better go in and look at the file I do have, try to come up with some questions. Yeah, that's good. Do that. But I wish they'd send me the new file, because it has additional information in it that I would like to be familiar with when I call. Breathe. Calm down. Everything will be all right. They'll rewrite everything anyway. Breathe. Stephen just called. He said, "Take a deep breath." Turns out my #2 editor is at his nephew's hockey tournament. Why didn't I think of that? prev archive next 0 comments random |