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should change the abstract here to 'blatant temper tantrum'.
the woman i spoke to at the dairy - who knew my deadline - has only just got back to me; too late to do any good. a snotty email saying how i maybe shouldn't mention the wombles at all (why not? the police know all about them being there, and it's mentioned both on the net and in leaflets at the dairy - hardly a fucking secret), or should ask at the dairy before i do (like i'm gonna talk to them again after both being shouted at and treated like a time waster), and that i 'should've written more about the other women'. since i'd emailed her the piece asking her to correct any inaccuracies, i'm pissed off, big time, that she should try and tell me how to write it.
no one else has read this article. so there, is, of course, the possibility that it's not very good. writing's the one area of my life where i'm confident - to the point of arrogance, and i was happy with the piece. but that's irrelevent really - it's not what i asked this woman - i only wanted to know if i'd been accurate with her quotes (i was - but she's now not sure about what she was talking about) and the facts and figures. i have to say, i am Not Happy At All with the attitude of the people at that place. maybe they would be happier just sending out press releases so they can have the total control they obviously want.
this happened once before - i interviewed lucy thane, director of she's real, worse than queer, for the pink paper, and she practically re wrote the damn article, to put in loads of stuff she thought she should've said and a huge list of thank you's - like a fucking oscar speech it was. it's not the way i work, dammit!
i will now storm off, stage left. and i'm going to have to get someone else to read the article, to see if it's really that bad. |
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