The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba - Chanel Cleeton Page 0,23
business is more work and less glory than I imagined. The hours are long, my average day clocking in around twelve hours and thousands of words written, my hands cramping by five o’clock from the effort of writing longhand. The competition is fierce, more newspapers and reporters than the demand calls for. We’re all vying for attention with so many newspapers to choose from, all reaching for the scoop that could make or break our careers.
As cub reporters, we learn our trade by doing, so there’s nothing to do but jump in and hope for the best. There are very few of us women in the newsroom, and even fewer assigned front-page stories. We receive half the pay the men do for the same pieces.
And still, there are those women I aspire to be, whose work I look up to, their greatness an inspiration to keep going in the days when the work feels insurmountable.
Recently, Pulitzer’s World printed a report that Nellie Bly was going to fight for Cuba and was recruiting women volunteers for her first regiment. From elephant trainer to crossing the globe in a balloon to military genius, it seems there’s nothing Bly can’t do in her stunt reporting. I keep a notebook filled with clippings of the stories she’s written, an homage to the daring work she’s done to get the story.
One day.
The rest of us who aren’t highfliers are paid by the column size, our salaries barely clearing ten dollars a week. It’s a far cry from the wealth I grew up around, from the millions men like Hearst earn. I am fortunate for my living situation with Aunt Emma, because otherwise I shudder to imagine how I’d support myself.
I’ve gleaned little intelligence of note to share with Pulitzer, added few writing credits. The circulation battle between Pulitzer and Hearst has hardly subsided, though. In a major coup, Hearst managed to steal Pulitzer’s prized managing editor, the legendary Arthur Brisbane.
Brisbane is one of the hardest working editors, waking hours earlier than others to get the news out before they do. Hearst wooed him away from Pulitzer after a dispute over the editorial freedom and direction of the World. Hearst and Brisbane are more than just publisher and editor; they’ve also become roommates and friends.
In an industry where editorial personalities set the tone for the newsroom, Brisbane is a fair and energetic employer, and his assistant editor, Elizabeth Garver Jordan, has become another inspiration to me.
“Harrington,” Hearst calls from his office interrupting my struggles describing an imaginary ghost.
I pick up my pad and pen from the desk, scurrying over to where he stands in the doorway with another man.
“Yes, Mr. Hearst?”
“This is my friend Rafael Harden.” He gestures toward the man beside him.
It takes me a moment to place him. It’s the same man from that first day in Hearst’s office. The one with the showgirl nearly on his lap.
Rafael Harden inclines his head ever so faintly in greeting, hardly enough to be considered polite.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Harden,” I murmur as I study him, trying to discern why Hearst has introduced us.
Rafael Harden’s clothes appear expensive, his entire manner giving the impression that he is someone accustomed to having his way. He looks like one of those new-money men who have built palatial mansions on Fifth Avenue, and given the rumors that Hearst eschews most of proper society, I imagine he is.
“His sister belongs to one of the Cuban revolutionary women’s clubs in the city,” Hearst continues. “They’re having a meeting today at her apartment. Rafael will take you there. I want you to see what information you can glean from them and bring your findings back here. We’ve done quite a bit with the revolutionary party in the city, but we haven’t offered our readers much perspective from inside one of these women’s clubs, and I think you’d be the perfect person to speak with them and tell their side to Journal readers. Can you handle that?”
In the past several months, both the Journal and the World have reported at length about the conflict in Cuba, each trying to outdo the other in their battle for newspaper supremacy. When he first hired me, Hearst dangled Cuba before me, but up until now, I haven’t had a chance to work on one of the Journal’s more high-profile stories. Maybe this is a sign that he’s appreciated the stunt work I’ve done and thinks I’m ready for more substantial material.