Read Online Welcome, Caller, This Is Chloe by Shelley Coriell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shelley Coriell
Ads: Link
of the school would be exorcised, and my universe would be in perfect alignment.
I plopped the tiara on my head and opened my JISP notebook, where I’d been jotting pages and pages of notes for my queenly radio debut.
Thwack . A dusty, five-inch-thick binder slammed onto my desk. “For you,” Clementine said. The spine read KDRS Operations Guide . Everything for the care and feeding of a high school radio station.
I fanned away the dust. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Become one with it.”
“You want me to read the whole thing by Friday?”
“No, just the pages ending in two and seven.” Dragon rumble. “KDRS is not some after-school playground for people who like to hear themselves talk. We’re licensed by the FCC, and we follow FCC regs and school policy for all broadcast activities. Our goal is to provide our listeners with quality, professional programming.Anyone who doesn’t work to that end will get dragged through and roasted over the fires of hell.” A sunny glint sparked in Clementine’s eyes as she leaned closer. “After you get your music selected, get your teasers done. I also want to see your format clock with all stop sets noted, and I’ll need to approve any drops, stagers, and other production elements you plan on using. Since you’re not certified, you won’t be running the boards or keeping the log, but you will study the op notes on how the board works and how to screen live calls. Got that?”
I got that she wasn’t quite speaking English.
“I want you in here during your lunch period for the next five days with your mouth shut and eyes open,” Clementine continued. “The best way to learn this stuff is to watch. Radio isn’t rocket science, but it’s not as simple as sitting your butt in a chair and yakking away. And one more thing—I expect you to know step-by-step how to deal with VSPs. One mishandle of a VSP, and you’re gone.”
“VSP?”
Clementine’s gaze stayed on me so long my feet started to squirm. “Very Stupid Person,” she said. “They can kill a show, literally get us kicked off the air. Now get your music prepped. You need to record dry track today so Taysom can mix your teasers and sweepers.”
“Huh?”
Clementine leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. “Your format music, the standard theme music we’ll play as openers and closers and with your promos.”
Taysom must have seen the huge question mark over my head. “You haven’t selected theme music?” he asked.
“Uh, no. Do I need theme music?”
Taysom looked as if I’d asked him if I needed a left ventricle. “Music belongs everywhere. It’s essential to all radio programming, even news and talk shows. Music is an expression of your radio personality, something that announces your unique presence.”
Unique. I liked that. Unique things stood out, they made a statement, like vintage shoes. I considered my show title, Chloe, Queen of the Universe . I’d kicked around a dozen names, including Chloe Nation and Life According to Chloe . At one point I reached for the phone to call Mercedes to get her analytical input, but fortunately, my synapses fired before I opened that can of stupid. Turning to BFs for issues big and small was simply a habit. In the end, Grams weighed in.
“Chloe, Queen of the Universe is a little over the top and totally fun,” Grams had said. “It’s catchy, but more importantly, it’s you. ”
Thanks to Grams, I had a name, but no music. “I guess we could go with queenly music, kind of royal sounding.”
“Oh my gawwwwwd,” Clementine said. “She’ll sound like the Plumber King.” The Plumber King was a local contractor with cheesy commercials featuring a plumber wearing a gold crown and sitting on a royal toilet throne.
From the corner, Haley made a flushing noise.
I looked at my show title scrawled across the whiteboard desk.“We could also play on the universe theme and use something celestial. Harps and lutes, kind of
I plopped the tiara on my head and opened my JISP notebook, where I’d been jotting pages and pages of notes for my queenly radio debut.
Thwack . A dusty, five-inch-thick binder slammed onto my desk. “For you,” Clementine said. The spine read KDRS Operations Guide . Everything for the care and feeding of a high school radio station.
I fanned away the dust. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Become one with it.”
“You want me to read the whole thing by Friday?”
“No, just the pages ending in two and seven.” Dragon rumble. “KDRS is not some after-school playground for people who like to hear themselves talk. We’re licensed by the FCC, and we follow FCC regs and school policy for all broadcast activities. Our goal is to provide our listeners with quality, professional programming.Anyone who doesn’t work to that end will get dragged through and roasted over the fires of hell.” A sunny glint sparked in Clementine’s eyes as she leaned closer. “After you get your music selected, get your teasers done. I also want to see your format clock with all stop sets noted, and I’ll need to approve any drops, stagers, and other production elements you plan on using. Since you’re not certified, you won’t be running the boards or keeping the log, but you will study the op notes on how the board works and how to screen live calls. Got that?”
I got that she wasn’t quite speaking English.
“I want you in here during your lunch period for the next five days with your mouth shut and eyes open,” Clementine continued. “The best way to learn this stuff is to watch. Radio isn’t rocket science, but it’s not as simple as sitting your butt in a chair and yakking away. And one more thing—I expect you to know step-by-step how to deal with VSPs. One mishandle of a VSP, and you’re gone.”
“VSP?”
Clementine’s gaze stayed on me so long my feet started to squirm. “Very Stupid Person,” she said. “They can kill a show, literally get us kicked off the air. Now get your music prepped. You need to record dry track today so Taysom can mix your teasers and sweepers.”
“Huh?”
Clementine leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. “Your format music, the standard theme music we’ll play as openers and closers and with your promos.”
Taysom must have seen the huge question mark over my head. “You haven’t selected theme music?” he asked.
“Uh, no. Do I need theme music?”
Taysom looked as if I’d asked him if I needed a left ventricle. “Music belongs everywhere. It’s essential to all radio programming, even news and talk shows. Music is an expression of your radio personality, something that announces your unique presence.”
Unique. I liked that. Unique things stood out, they made a statement, like vintage shoes. I considered my show title, Chloe, Queen of the Universe . I’d kicked around a dozen names, including Chloe Nation and Life According to Chloe . At one point I reached for the phone to call Mercedes to get her analytical input, but fortunately, my synapses fired before I opened that can of stupid. Turning to BFs for issues big and small was simply a habit. In the end, Grams weighed in.
“Chloe, Queen of the Universe is a little over the top and totally fun,” Grams had said. “It’s catchy, but more importantly, it’s you. ”
Thanks to Grams, I had a name, but no music. “I guess we could go with queenly music, kind of royal sounding.”
“Oh my gawwwwwd,” Clementine said. “She’ll sound like the Plumber King.” The Plumber King was a local contractor with cheesy commercials featuring a plumber wearing a gold crown and sitting on a royal toilet throne.
From the corner, Haley made a flushing noise.
I looked at my show title scrawled across the whiteboard desk.“We could also play on the universe theme and use something celestial. Harps and lutes, kind of
Similar Books
