What a weird experience it can be working on a breaking story. Unlike ye olden days when I had days, if not a week, so sit on my arse and hunt for a new angle trying to keep ahead of a story can be a bit of a thrill. Of course it can also be a huge pain in the arse.
Case in point: when I left work yesterday I’d written a corker of a story for page one. My first page one, hurrah, I was bloody stoked. Then I get up today to find it’s not only been bumped (which, you know, okay) but is barely recognisable, though admittedly greatly improved, and now wearing a joint byline.
I know most journos must, sooner or later, have the experience of writing their wee hearts out only to have the story chopped and changed and half of what they wrote nowhere to be found but it is not a very nice one. Even worse when I discover the bleeding Fin has the stuff that was dropped so I can’t even recycle it for tomorrow.
Meh, I’m sorry, I’m just whining.
Next week: hilarity.