“I, uh, good. Great. Everything’s great,” she said, her nose scrunching a few times. “And you?”
“I’m fine,” he said in a clipped tone, clearly wanting to move on from the small talk. Praise Jesus. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” Her stomach somersaulted at his serious tone, and her mind scanned through what this could possibly be about. Did he hate her last review? Was he calling because her numbers had dipped? Had he realized she was a total fraud and wasn’t at all cool like her online persona?
She was so lost in the possibilities that she almost missed what he said next.
“I wanted to let you know that we’re thinking of expanding the Miz Poppy role on the site.”
Her spinning thoughts screeched to a halt, and she sat up straighter. Expand the role? Her office chair squeaked beneath her like it was excited on her behalf. “Oh?”
It’s happening!
Be cool. Be cool.
“Yes. Your posts do really well and sometimes get the top number of hits in a week.” He coughed loudly in the phone, making her startle. “You and the restaurant critic seem to volley that top spot back and forth.”
“Wow, that’s great. It’s hard to trump food in this town.” She grabbed a pen and a notepad and put her phone on speaker so she could take notes and also not get his booming cough in her ear again. “So what are you thinking?”
She was proud about how calm she sounded. She’d always been better on the phone than in person. She didn’t love the phone, but no one could see her tics, so it took a layer of self-consciousness off the table. Her initial NOLA Vibe interview had been by phone. She doubted she would’ve landed the gig otherwise.
“Well,” Mr. Melancon went on. “We’ve been analyzing the competition, and the only other entertainment posts getting better numbers are over at Buzz of the Bayou. Their entertainment reporter is doing live streaming at some events and is posting flashy videos for his reviews. I forget his name. Blue hair. Loud.”
“Billy Blues.” Hollyn’s pen pressed hard against the paper. She’d crossed paths with the guy a few times when she was out to do a review. She’d heard him asking random women if they were Miz Poppy. Thankfully, he’d never turned his eye on her. But his approach had rubbed her the wrong way just the same. She also thought his posts were big on personality but thin on quality content.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Mr. Melancon said. “I find the kid annoying, but his technique is working. Video content is what the readers are wanting. Their site is getting the younger demographics. I want those eyeballs on our site.”
Hollyn was taking notes, but when she wrote down video content, she stilled. “Right. I’m good with a camera. I could take some great shots of the venue. Maybe film a few live clips of performances. I mean, obviously, we wouldn’t want me on camera. That would ruin the whole mystique of Miz Poppy.”
Mr. Melancon was quiet for a moment, but she could hear something tapping on his end, maybe his pen. “Actually, Hollyn, I don’t think the mystique is what drives the posts. Your writing and attitude do. Readers like your humor and how straightforward you are. I think we could get a lot of momentum if we build up to a reveal and then unveil the real person behind the posts. Then that frees you up to be on video.”
Hollyn went hot all over and then bone cold, a rush of no, no and hell no going through her. “Mr. Melancon, I’m a writer. I don’t know the first thing about editing videos.”
He grunted. “We have an intern who can edit the videos and put the graphics in. It will be the same type of content. You’ll just have to speak it instead of type it.”
Her hand was trembling, and she flattened it against the notepad to stop the shaking. “I don’t know if—”
“I’m aware that this will take a lot more time and work on your part and that you do a lot of freelance work,” he said, oblivious to her silent panic. “So if you agree to this, it would be a promotion. A salary instead of per-article pay. Full-time benefits. I don’t have the office space here in the building, but we could chip in a little for that office you rent since I know they have video rooms.”
Hollyn closed her eyes. The carrot he was dangling was what she’d been working for since moving to the city. An actual writing job with full-time pay—writing about things she loved. But this wasn’t writing. It was writing with video. It was Miz Poppy coming out of the shadows and being on camera. The thought made her want to hurl herself into traffic.
Mr. Melancon hadn’t noticed her tics during her follow-up interview. She’d taken an anxiety pill and had worked to exhaustion to suppress them as much as possible for the hour. But if he knew he was hiring someone like her to be on camera, he’d never be making the offer.
“Mr. Melancon, I really appreciate the offer. That sounds amazing, but I do think the anonymity is important and—”
“Hollyn,” he said, voice underlined with impatience. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but this is the direction we need to go in. If you’re not willing to do the videos, I’ll be forced to recruit a new Miz Poppy. One who can take on this extra work and do videos. We can’t be left behind and lose readers to Buzz of the Bayou.”
Her hands went to the arms of her chair, gripping hard. “A new Miz Poppy? But that’s my pen name.”
“In your contract, it states that we have the right to keep the name if you leave,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s part of the site’s brand now.”
Hollyn tilted back in her chair like he’d shoved her. “Oh.”
Oh.
“Hollyn,” he said, his gruff voice softening, “I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m trying to promote you to a bigger job. I believe you can do this. But I need you to be willing to learn some new things and move with the market.”
Her fingers were tapping in her four count on the arm of her chair, her thunderous heartbeat hurting her chest. “I understand.”
“So what do you say?” he asked.
Hollyn’s skin was damp, and she wanted to cry. She didn’t want to lose this opportunity, but how the hell was she going to do this? Video? She froze up talking to people face-to-face. How was she supposed to talk to thousands through a video camera? And she could already imagine the Internet comments. That’s Miz Poppy? What’s wrong with her face? God, what a disappointment.
But she couldn’t afford to lose this job right now. Without it, she was going to be headed straight back to her hometown to move back in with her mother.
No way.
“Can I have some time to work on my skills?” she said, scrambling to come up with a way out of this. “There are a number of video bloggers here at WorkAround. I’d like to partner with them and learn some tricks of the trade first. If we’re going to do a Miz Poppy reveal, I want it to be polished. Otherwise, I’m going to look like an amateur next to Billy Blues, and that won’t get us anywhere.”