WAG - Freelance Thoughts
[Composed around 3:00 P.M. posted...see above]
Today, I feel a bit like Ebenezar Scrooge after he was visited by the Ghost of Christmas future.
(Upfront, I want to say stick with me. I'm going somewhere interesting with this)
I may have been given a glimpse into a possible future and it frightens me a bit.
Today I have glimpsed the world of the Freelance Writer!
[Cue shudders]
As I sit in the Missourian newsroom and pound out an email to make up for the fact I have done no real work in roughly the last three hours, I have a better idea of what it is like to exist from one press release to the next.
I have worked on two stories since the start of "Spring Break." For those of you who have been keeping close track of my insane ploy, I volunteered to spend part of my break "helping out the Missourian." I committed to this before war broke out when it looked like the heavy stuff would hit over vacation.
[Cue softly muted-maniacal laughter]
As anyone who has paid close attention to the recent events in the Middle East, from Iraqi war planners to high paid cable tv annylists, the war hasn't gone to plan. OR MORE ACCURATELY, the military hasn't done anything anyone predicted before hand.
The war started at dawn. The massive force of troops were inserted before the heavy air campaign started. Terrorist counter strikes didn't start the minute bombs started to drop. Saddam didn't unlease chemical or biological weapons in the first wave (though he did put to use some Scud missiles that he didn't have - wonder where he dug those up from?).
I give credit to the allied war planners because this thing doesn't resemble anything close to what has expected before Wednesday. My one...I wouldn't call it a complaint, but rather a point to be worked on... is that it has made good stories hard to find.
First off, that is good!
Stories about grief stricken widows or fatherless children make sensational stories, but aren't tales I would look forward to telling. When charting out the timing and consequences of war, that would determine whether or not I stayed or not, I knew the start of war would be a major event (and would prompt a wave of stories). Two x-factors I listed, which could also prompt stories were terrorist
attacks and the deadly use of weapons of mass destruction.
Thus far, I am happy to report, that hasn't happened. Kurds have not been gased. Coalition cities have not been bombed (though traces of ricin, a poison with no cure, were found in a French airport locker - that's ironic in a twisted way). There isn't anything major to report.
I've worked on two stories since I got here, and though that makes me feel like part of my break was spent getting work done (and scoring points with editors), I don't think it will be enough to keep me here through the rest of the week.
It's always a bit annoying to be outguessed, and I totally gauged the war wrong. I was in the Hearnes Center when war broke out. I had enough prior thought to bring a stenopad to the game, just in case. I had also joked that, with my ironic luck, war would hit while I was there, but I hadn't seriously expected it to begin Wednesday.
I wasn't engaged in a gambling pool on the war date, though I did jokingly propose one in the Local Government beat meeting (in retrospect, I wish I had. I doubt anyone would have one and I'd have the pot to myself), I would have placed money on early on Thursday evening - at the same time when the sun went down on Iraq.
Of course, if I have been out-maneuvered, and I have, that only puts me in a very vast and widespread category filled with generals and lowly J-students alike.
As I briefly reference back the joke I started this post with, I find myself pleading before a faceless, dark spectre.
Please spirit, tell me. It can be changed, can't it? This is only a view of what MIGHT be? I could have a steady job with actual assignments! I wouldn't have to worry about getting "paid" on commission! Speak to me ghastly prophet! Let me know there is time to change...
THIS ENDS TODAY'S PRESENTATION OF CALEB'S SUBCONSCIOUS THEATRE.
TUNE IN NEXT TIME WHEN CALEB WILL TAKE ANOTHER CLASSIC AND CORRUPT IT
WITH HIS TWISTED MIND.
AND NOW, A PREVIEW:
Macbeth: Lay on, MacSmith, And darn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!"
MacSmith: This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
Macbeth: What?
MacSmith: [Briefly consults dog-eared copy of script] I'm sorry. I thought we were doing King Lear.
[Macbeth pulls out his copy of script and tosses it to MacSmith] Macbeth? Crud! Um... Where are we now?
Macbeth: Act Five, Scene Eight. Keep in mind we're running out of time before final bows.
MacSmith: Uh...alright. HA! [Plunges sword into Macbeth]
Macbeth: [Screaming in pain] Ah! [Then Macbeth pauses, collects himself, and replies in anger] What are you doing? I had another monologue to go! Besides Macbeth isn't finished off until MacSmith cuts his head off.
MacSmith: Oh. Alright. [Raises sword above his head]
Macbeth: AH!
AND THAT CONCLUDES OUR PREVIEW - WE WOULDN'T WANT TO GIVE AWAY THE ENDING
Yep, yep, yep. If I have the time to compose this whole email uninterupted by editors, its time to call it a day.
I hope everyone is enjoying themselves as much as I am.
Good day.
'Working_Hard_or_Hardly_Working'
