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Authors: Sidney Sheldon
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other newspaper, the Hammond Chronicle, has a circulation of twenty-eight thousand, almost double. And the owner of the Sun is asking five million dollars. The deal doesn't make any sense."
Leslie was thoughtful for a moment. "Wait for me," she said. "I'm on my way."
Leslie spent the following two days examining the newspaper and studying its books.
"There's no way the Sun can compete with the Chronicle," McAllister assured her. "The Chronicle keeps growing. The Sun's circulation has gone down every year for the past five years."
"I know," Leslie said. "I'm going to buy it."
He looked at her in surprise. "You're going to what?"
"I'm going to buy it."
The deal was completed in three days. The owner of the Sun was delighted to get rid of it. "I suckered the lady into making a deal, he crowed. "She paid me the full five million." Walt Meriwether, the owner of the Hammond Chronicle, came to call on Leslie. "I understand you're my new competitor," he said genially. Leslie nodded. "That's right." "If things don't work out here for you, maybe you'd be interested in selling the Sun to me." Leslie smiled. "And if things do work out, perhaps you'd be interested in selling the Chronicle to me."
Meriwether laughed. "Sure. Lots of luck, Mrs. Chambers."
When Meriwether got back to the Chronicle, he said confidently, "In six months, we're going to own the Sun."
Leslie returned to Phoenix and talked to Lyle Bannister, the Star's managing editor. "You're going with me to Hammond, Oregon. I want you to run the newspaper there until it gets on its feet."
"I talked to Mr. McAllister," Bannister said. "The paper has no feet He said it's a disaster waiting to happen."
She studied him a moment. "Humor me."
In Oregon, Leslie called a staff meeting of the employees of the Sun "We're going to operate a little differently from now on," she informed them. "This is a two-newspaper town, and we're going to own them both." Derek Zornes, the managing editor of the Sun, said, "Excuse me, Mrs. Chambers. I'm not sure you understand the situation. Our circulation is way below the Chronick's, and we're slipping every month. There's no way we can ever catch up to it." "We're not only going to catch up to it," Leslie assured him, "we're going to put the Chronicle out of business."
The men in the room looked at one another and they all had the same thought: Females and amateurs should stay the hell out of the newspaper business.
"How do you plan to do that?" Zornes asked politely.
"Have you ever watched a bullfight?" Leslie asked.
He blinked. "A bullfight? No ..."
"Well, when the bull rushes into the ring, the matador doesn't go for the kill right away. He bleeds the bull until it's weak enough to be killed."
Zornes was trying not to laugh. "And we're going to bleed the Chronicle?"
"Exactly."
"How are we going to do that?"
"Starting Monday, we're cutting the price of the Sun from thirty-five cents to twenty cents. We're cutting our advertising rates by thirty percent. Next week, we're starting a giveaway contest where our readers can win free trips all over the world. We'll begin publicizing the contest immediately."
When the employees gathered later to discuss the meeting, the consensus was that their newspaper had been bought by a crazy woman.
The bleeding began, but it was the Sun that was being bled.
McAllister asked Leslie, "Do you have any idea how much money the Sun is losing?"
"I know exactly how much it's losing," Leslie said.
"How long do you plan to go on with this?"
"Until we win," Leslie said. "Don't worry. We will."
But Leslie was worried. The losses were getting heavier every week Circulation continued to dwindle, and advertisers' reactions to the rate reduction had been lukewarm.
"Your theory's not working," McAllister said. "We've got to cut our losses. I suppose you can keep pumping in money, but what's the point?"
The following week, the circulation stopped dropping.
It took eight weeks for the Sun to begin to
Leslie was thoughtful for a moment. "Wait for me," she said. "I'm on my way."
Leslie spent the following two days examining the newspaper and studying its books.
"There's no way the Sun can compete with the Chronicle," McAllister assured her. "The Chronicle keeps growing. The Sun's circulation has gone down every year for the past five years."
"I know," Leslie said. "I'm going to buy it."
He looked at her in surprise. "You're going to what?"
"I'm going to buy it."
The deal was completed in three days. The owner of the Sun was delighted to get rid of it. "I suckered the lady into making a deal, he crowed. "She paid me the full five million." Walt Meriwether, the owner of the Hammond Chronicle, came to call on Leslie. "I understand you're my new competitor," he said genially. Leslie nodded. "That's right." "If things don't work out here for you, maybe you'd be interested in selling the Sun to me." Leslie smiled. "And if things do work out, perhaps you'd be interested in selling the Chronicle to me."
Meriwether laughed. "Sure. Lots of luck, Mrs. Chambers."
When Meriwether got back to the Chronicle, he said confidently, "In six months, we're going to own the Sun."
Leslie returned to Phoenix and talked to Lyle Bannister, the Star's managing editor. "You're going with me to Hammond, Oregon. I want you to run the newspaper there until it gets on its feet."
"I talked to Mr. McAllister," Bannister said. "The paper has no feet He said it's a disaster waiting to happen."
She studied him a moment. "Humor me."
In Oregon, Leslie called a staff meeting of the employees of the Sun "We're going to operate a little differently from now on," she informed them. "This is a two-newspaper town, and we're going to own them both." Derek Zornes, the managing editor of the Sun, said, "Excuse me, Mrs. Chambers. I'm not sure you understand the situation. Our circulation is way below the Chronick's, and we're slipping every month. There's no way we can ever catch up to it." "We're not only going to catch up to it," Leslie assured him, "we're going to put the Chronicle out of business."
The men in the room looked at one another and they all had the same thought: Females and amateurs should stay the hell out of the newspaper business.
"How do you plan to do that?" Zornes asked politely.
"Have you ever watched a bullfight?" Leslie asked.
He blinked. "A bullfight? No ..."
"Well, when the bull rushes into the ring, the matador doesn't go for the kill right away. He bleeds the bull until it's weak enough to be killed."
Zornes was trying not to laugh. "And we're going to bleed the Chronicle?"
"Exactly."
"How are we going to do that?"
"Starting Monday, we're cutting the price of the Sun from thirty-five cents to twenty cents. We're cutting our advertising rates by thirty percent. Next week, we're starting a giveaway contest where our readers can win free trips all over the world. We'll begin publicizing the contest immediately."
When the employees gathered later to discuss the meeting, the consensus was that their newspaper had been bought by a crazy woman.
The bleeding began, but it was the Sun that was being bled.
McAllister asked Leslie, "Do you have any idea how much money the Sun is losing?"
"I know exactly how much it's losing," Leslie said.
"How long do you plan to go on with this?"
"Until we win," Leslie said. "Don't worry. We will."
But Leslie was worried. The losses were getting heavier every week Circulation continued to dwindle, and advertisers' reactions to the rate reduction had been lukewarm.
"Your theory's not working," McAllister said. "We've got to cut our losses. I suppose you can keep pumping in money, but what's the point?"
The following week, the circulation stopped dropping.
It took eight weeks for the Sun to begin to
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