The Runaway

Chapter Six

The next day, I snuck out early and continued my job search.  I went to the offices of People magazine, Cosmopolitan, and SELF, yet was turned away at the door.  I went to a few smaller newspapers, thinking that they were my best bet, but still had no luck.  I was feeling defeated, like I would never find a job.  If the little companies wouldn’t hire me, then I didn’t stand a chance. 

         It dawned on me that what I needed was uniqueness, something that set me apart from other writers.  I began thinking of a time in my life that would make a good story that would attract audiences to read on.  No one would want to hear me complain about living in Amelia’s shadow, or how I had a nonexistent love life.  However, my move to NYC could be interesting to some people.  I could write about getting acquainted with the city and what it was like to move across the country with only a few duffle bags. 

         With ideas popping in my head, I decided to go to the nearest coffee shop and type a draft of what my first article could be.  I named it “The Runaway”, listing myself as E.L. Finn, always admiring the writers who had kept their identity a mystery.  The words flew together fast and smoothly, with my mind bursting with new ideas.  I kept personal details out of the article, only admitting that I had left home during a wedding.  I described the road trip and my see-saw of emotions, as well as the destinations where I stopped and why I chose NYC. 

         The articles after the first one would be about finding places and meeting people in the city.  It would be a column of what the city is like from a newcomer’s perspective, something that the New Yorkers who lived there may have forgotten or never known.  I could write restaurant reviews, describe unique people I met on the street, and compare it to life in South Carolina.  It would be something that any New Yorker could read, something that makes them appreciate the city more. 

         Feeling extremely confident, I went to a nearby printing service and printed out 10 copies.  I then went to newspaper companies such as the Daily News, New York Post, and Newsday.  Then, I went to a few magazine companies: New York Magazine, Go NYC, and The New Yorker.  At each one, I was turned away at the front desk, yet they accepted my article.  Most of the secretaries told me that my story probably wouldn’t be read, but I was feeling too good to let that get me down.  I had a feeling that at least one of them would call me, because my idea was different, and that is what journalism was all about. 

         By the time I was done passing my article out, it was dinnertime.  I was starving since I had only had coffee and a bagel at the coffee shop that morning.  I arrived at the apartment to find Carson and Rosie sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

         “Hey guys!” I said enthusiastically, taking a seat on the Lazyboy next to them. 

         “Stella!” Rosie sat up on the couch, concerned.  “I’ve been so worried about you all day!  When I got up, Elliot told me what happened and I felt horrible.  We shouldn’t have encouraged you to do that.”

         I shook my head.  “It’s not your fault.  It was a good experience for me, regardless of the outcome.”

         “I felt so bad that you had called me and I was asleep.  Thank God Elliot was awake though.” 

         “I know.  It was extremely nice of him to come and get me, he’s a great guy..” I answered honestly, which made Rosie worried.  “He’s a good friend.” I said, to reassure her that I hadn’t done what she specifically told me not to do.

         “You don’t hate us, do you?” Carson asked.

         “Of course not!”