The Tooth Fairy —Part II

My name is Henry James and I’m a writer.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Conclusion

Earlier this week the publishing group in Austin Texas terminated my contract. Now, I’m on the phone with the new Chief Editor of Dark Sides Of The Truth, a sensationalist rag I wouldn’t even think about calling for a job.

And yet, I’m on the phone calling about a job.

“Mr. McDonnell, this is Henry James. Randy Burleson called and said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Damn that was fast. Randy said he knew how to find you, but I thought he was just brown nosing to keep his job.”

I wanted to tell the man Randy was brown nosing to keep his job, but I was pretty sure the man would figure it out on his own.

“So let me cut to it Henry. May I call you Henry?”

I was about to say yes when he continued.

“So Henry, here’s the deal. Of the eight writers on staff when we bought this magazine only two positions are open. I’ve reviewed a few writer’s portfolios and I think by the end of the week we should be able to fill one of the positions. The other slot is open for you.”

“Well, I appreciate the offer Mr. McDonnell…”

“The name’s Rick.”

“I appreciate the offer Rick, but I’m not sure my writing style and Dark Sides Of The Truth pair up very well.”

“Really? On what fact are you basing that opinion?”

“On the fact your writers are all lazy assholes who wouldn’t recognize a good story if it bit them on the ass. They sit in their chairs, stare at their screens and pull shit out of the air then slap it between the covers of a two bit magazine and call it truth. The truth is their writing is nothing but sensationalist bullshit and nowhere close to the truth. That’s not how I roll.”

“I see. Are you always this candid?”

“I am sir.”

“I like that Henry, and you’re right. That’s why I fired all six of them this morning.”

I pulled my phone away as if it had just electrocuted me, stared at it then jerked the phone back to my ear.

“Wait, you said eight writers on staff. So if you fired six of them then…”

“Correct, once I fill the two open positions Dark Sides will have two writers on staff. I intend to hire more, but I want to start off with writers who have the kind of talent we need to grow this magazine.”

“I don’t know Rick. I’m not the kind of writer who likes to be told what to write.”

“I’m not the type of editor who tells my writing staff what to write. If you write something I don’t think is going to sell, then it won’t make it to print. If you think it should then you better have a damned good argument to make.”

“Fair enough, but then I’m not an office gopher either. Some, if not most of my best articles have been stories I’ve stumbled across or ones that find me.”

“Like Road Kill?”

“Yes sir.”

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Yes sir?”

“How much of that story was the truth?”

I hesitated for several seconds then finally said, “all of it sir. At least in the mind of Margaret Foley it was all true.”

“And you believed her didn’t you Henry?”

“Yes sir, especially after corroborating almost ninety percent of her story. The items in between, the crazy, unbelievable shit, Margaret Foley believed in her heart it happened.”

“And that’s what made it such a great story Henry. That’s the very reason Dark Sides needs a writer like you.”

“I appreciate that Rick. I really do, but...”

“Hear me out Henry. Dark Sides is going to grow and when we do so will your reader base. You keep writing the stories and we’ll keep printing them. Isn’t that how this shit’s supposed to work?”

“Yeah, suppose so.”

“Okay, we’ve just about covered everything except for the money talk right?”

I was grinning and thinking I really liked how this guy operated.

“Okay here it is, twelve seventy five for each feature story we run. We cover all reasonable travel expenses up to four hundred a week. Stories not featured, three hundred if published.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard the man right and hesitated while I tried to do the math in my head. I suck at doing math in my head, by the way.

“I figure right about now you’re trying to do the math in your head right?”

“Yeah.”

“I suck at doing math in my head. Here’s how it breaks down. You give me four publishable feature stories a month. You get paid fifty one hundred dollars at a minimum. We pay royalties monthly and expenses bi-weekly, so that’s up to eight hundred every other week and fifty one hundred dollars once a month. We don’t offer health benefits at the moment, but you should be used to that by now right?”

“Pretty much.”

“So Mr. James, what do you think?”

“I think them’s some real purty words Mr. McDonnell, but they is still nothing but words.”

Rick McDonnell laughed then said, “I’ve lived here almost twenty years, and I still can’t speak Texan. Tell you what James. You have our address?”

“I can look it up.”

“How about I have the contract drawn up and you drive over and take a look for yourself. If it looks good sign it and then I’ll share a possible story I think you’d love to sink your teeth into.”

“This isn’t a bait and switch is it Rick?”

“Trust me Henry, you’re going to want to get hold of this story.”

An hour later I became the first and only staff writer for Dark Sides Of The Truth Magazine.

Thirty minutes after I was on my way to prison.

READ ON — THE TOOTH FAIRY PART III

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