My brain whirrs at the thought, as though tiny machines are working away inside my head. What to write, what to write? The pen rests in my fingers as I spin it slowly as I wonder how best to present it. A true journalist hunts down her information, like a lioness on the prowl. So, shall I hunt it? Perhaps, but for now, I must think. A little humour might do well, just a small sprinkle, like sugar on the top of a cake. Too much would spoil it, I’m sure. Not enough would make it dry and plain. It has to be balanced in the correct way, or it will be ruined. A professional view may succeed, but I fear I’m not suited to it. I need the perfect story, the perfect piece. One that will shock, yet please the reader; it has to be something like no other.
I don’t have much experience to speak of, but I’m willing to give it a shot. Writing has always been a speciality of mine, something I love and enjoy. So, I’ve decided to give journalism a shot. A first, I wondered, how different could it really be from writing stories? After all, aren’t many news stories just works of fiction? I was mistaken, but not sadly. Journalism, I have discovered, is completely different. With creative writing, you write what you want to write, and that is that. Journalism, however, is another matter entirely; you have to choose a style that suits you, that is just right. You can’t be too biased or make details up; you have to be accurate, which can be one of the hardest things of all.
Suddenly, an idea pops into my head out of nowhere. A smile creeps onto my face, and I realise that this is how some professional journalists must feel; lost at sea for a while, stuck with the dreaded writer’s block. A shudder escapes me at just the thought of it. But, out of seemingly nowhere, and idea can appear, one that you just know will work.
My pen begins to scribble frantically on the page, words escaping from my head and flowing freely on the page. Ideas burst, and I just know this will be great.
Finally, it’s finished. Typed up properly and spelled correctly. Everything is just right. I knock on the office door and as the teacher comes to the door, they see it, gasp and exclaim how excellent it is. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I swell with pride. People chant my name, louder and louder, roaring in my ears.
“Hayley!” screams my friend, knocking on my head a little. I frantically search in my mind for the fantasy, but alas, it’s gone. I sigh and stand up, brushing the dream out of my mind. The thought lingers, though – I know one day, I’ll fulfil this ambition.