Hiring Dibbs had been Bernice's first act as editor; other staff had been given to her, but to find the rest would require some hard work.
The advertisement had gone in The Guardian at the beginning of the week. It was a reasonably large, composite ad that announced an important new general business launch with tremendous opportunities for ambitious and talented journalists - but then didn't they always? The pattern of the replies was pretty much as she had expected: relatively few for senior posts such as Assistant Editor (who had in any case to be written to with the news that the appointment had already been made, with thanks for their interest and best wishes for the future) and Art Editor, and literally hundreds for the junior post of Reporter.
Bernice remembered well her own experiences of applying for the first job in publishing. It was the standard dilemma: you couldn't get experience until you had it. As a result, breaking this vicious circle was difficult, and required many applications, and to any job that presented itself. Once you were in you could then think about working for a magazine in a field that interested you.
And so Bernice spent considerable time going through the applications for the Reporter's post, weeding out those with simply no hope, trying to gauge from the often quite short letters of application and the condensed life stories hinted at in the bare Curriculum Vitae's exactly what these people were like and whether they would fit in with her plans for the magazine.
She was very conscious of her responsibility in doing this. After all, she was making decisions that would materially affect the careers of many people. Those who were really keen would continue to apply for other posts and eventually obtain them. But there were bound to be some who, through force of circumstances, were unable to do so, and would be forced to compromise, to give up their dreams. She wanted to make sure she did everything possible to help those most deserving.
The number of applications for the more senior posts was much smaller, which made selection of the shortlisted interviewees much easier, but it also meant that the scope for choice was narrower. Getting the right person was therefore more a question of luck.
Although she had refused the help of Dan Scowcroft in the selection process, she did recognise that it was important to have someone else there to provide an alternative viewpoint. It was often quite easy to get the wrong impression, or to miss something obvious on your own, so having a second opinion was always valuable.
For the selection of the Sub-editor, she asked Kate to help. She was an obvious choice in that it would be principally with Kate that the sub would be working. For the others, she asked Martin to be present, who was naturally pleased to be involved. He could reasonably have insisted on his participation, and Bernice appreciated that he was effectively granting her a favour by not doing so. Her request for his help was almost an unconscious repaying of the favour so as not to be too much in his nominal debt. Of such things were company politics made. For the Art Editor, which was a much more subjective matter, she asked both Kate and Martin to help her.
Finding the Art Editor was a priority. Without him or her, the magazine had no form: she needed to hire somebody fast so that they could get on with the design - something that was required for the dummy even before the launch issue. There had been only four applications so far - it was still early days, but Bernice knew that there would not be many more. After all, those who are most enthusiastic for a job apply soonest, so applications arriving later are less like to be the successful candidate, all other things being equal.
Janice had booked one of the interview rooms in the personnel department. It was dreadful, and hardly calculated to put candidates at their ease. It was an internal room with no windows, so the only light was artificial. There was one round table and five chairs. A few of the company's magazines had been placed on the table, and covers of others blown up and hung on the walls in a very faint attempt to give the room some character.
Janice had contacted the candidates and arranged for them to come in at 45 minute intervals. In some ways it was ludicrous trying to judge someone's abilities in this time-span but realistically Bernice was unable to spare any more. Besides which, she always felt that a good interviewer should know within a few minutes whether the person was right or not.
Martin and Kate turned up a few minutes before the first candidate was due to arrive - Kate coming in specially - and they agreed on a basic structure to the interview: Bernice would lead things, using the applicant's CV as the starting point. The others had copies, and would add their own questions as they went along.
The first candidate was internal to Wright's. The jobs had been advertised internally before they had appeared in the national press, as was only right. John Thirlmere was currently Art Editor on Steel Today, and so was understandably keen to move on from having to use pictures of steelworks and forges every month. His CV showed him to have been a loyal servant of the company, but unfortunately the portfolio of designs that he had brought with him as requested - presumably the best that he had produced in the last few years - were as slablike as the iron blocks they described. Although the interview process was duly completed, including a request to make up some test pages for them in another interview room nearby, all three of them agreed that they need someone with a little more pizzazz.
The first external candidate certainly had something. She was dressed in what looked like some designer concoction: whether this was her normal art editing gear was not entirely clear. Besides, as Bernice well knew, interviews do strange things to people, causing them to suspend their better judgement and to act in all sorts of extraordinary and uncharacteristic ways.
Camilla Litton worked for Stellar Publications according to her CV, a company unfamiliar to her interviewers, and earned a very considerable salary there. Bernice feared that even if she were as good as the salary implied, they would not be able match the latter, and so would not be able to take her on. However, it shortly became clear why her salary was so high when she brought out her portfolio, rather reluctantly as they noted.
Her entire portfolio consisted of spreads - in several senses - of naked women in various improbable postures and situations. Stellar Publications turned out to be one of the leading publishers of pornography. Although Kate and Bernice disapproved strongly, Bernice could see how poor Camilla was doubly trapped: first by her high salary, which meant that she would find it hard to match it elsewhere, and secondly by the subject of her work, which meant that it was difficult for anyone to judge her artistic abilities since the content so overpowered the form. After a rather brief discussion of her current work, she too was asked to make up the test pages.
While she was doing that they interviewed the third candidate, Elmore Bowen. When Bernice saw that he was black she couldn't help thinking of the appalling Mr Scowcroft's injunctions. As a result she was probably inclined to look more favourably on his application. As she talked through his CV with him - rather an uncertain collection of jobs here and there - he emerged as a tremendously gentle character who belied his large and powerful frame. But as she half-feared, his portfolio was very weak, consisting of a few flyers, small local magazines and suchlike. Bernice was struck by how unfair it all was: he had probably had limited educational opportunities, and as a result now had limited ones in employment. Rather like Camilla, he was now trapped by his past which made it difficult for him to break out and create a different future. And his test pages turned out indeed to be simple - too simple, unfortunately, even for someone as sympathetic as Bernice.
The three of them were getting tired now. Sitting in that small room, concentrating on catching every hint or sign, trying to listen to the candidate's answer while formulating the next question - it was draining, even with constant supplies of coffee brought in by Janice after every candidate arrived. It was also depressing as the interviewees passed by without any obvious winner among them. To spend hours in this way without a result - and with so much else to do - was hardly fun.
At least the next candidate looked like he might wake them up a little. The name on his CV was simply Wobs: whether this was a first or last name was not clear. He was a small leprechaun of a thing, who seemed little bigger than a child, and to possess a child's constant energy. His short black hair was tightly curled, his face triangular and his eyes an indescribable colour mixing grey, yellow, green and brown. He came in listening to a Walkman, which would cause him to swerve his body occasionally, presumably responding to some imperious rhythm in the music. He was also clutching a bottle of Lucozade, as if to refresh himself during the interview, and a bulging portfolio.
Bernice expected Martin to be outraged by all this, but when she glanced at him she saw that he was staring transfixed at Wobs' T-shirt which showed a strange stylised drawing of a man with blonde hair and a beard wearing a multi-coloured cape made of feathers. Underneath was the word 'Quetzalcoatl'. Martin seemed unable to take his eyes off it.
The leprechaun finally acknowledged their presence by switching off the Walkman, removing the earphones and sitting down, though he would still sometimes shake his head as if to some internal music that was still going on in his brain.
"Right, then," said Bernice, "thanks for coming in to see us. My name's Bernice, this is Kate and this is Martin. We're respectively the Editor, Production Editor and Publisher of the new title mentioned in the job ad." Wobs seemed to nod as if he understood, although it may just have been another cymbal clash in his head.
"Er, your name here is Wobs - just Wobs?" asked Bernice.
"Right," Wobs said with a faint Irish accent, as if she had grasped the situation correctly, and no further explanation was necessary. Bernice found herself unable to pursue this line of enquiry. Kate, she knew, was indifferent to these matters of form, but she was surprised that Martin, usually quite a stickler for these things, did not take the matter up. But he still sat there, looking at the T-shirt, obviously deep in thought.
There was not really much to say about Wobs' CV. After graduating from art school he had been working - freelance she assumed - on a wide variety of commercial and non-commercial projects. Although she tried to explore some of his past work he seemed to have little to say, and so they passed on to his portfolio.
This proved to be immensely varied, and much of it was pretty outrageous too. Anything that could be done graphically, Wobs seemed to have tried. Most would have been completely inappropriate for a business magazine, and yet there was something there, particularly in the more normal work he had brought, that suggested he might just have what they were looking for: a completely fresh approach to designing a business magazine. But one thing was still unclear to her: why did he want the job?
"Well, this is certainly an impressive portfolio," said Bernice, with Kate nodding in agreement, "though obviously not directly relevant to a business title. I wonder what it is that attracts you to this particular job?"
"Well," Wobs began, in what was to prove a rare flight of rhetorical outpouring, "I've decided that I need to get more business-like so I thought the best way would be to join a business magazine. I've looked at a few titles and think that I can do as good. Then this job came up and I said to myself 'Wobs, this has your name written on it'..."
"Fate, you mean?" said Martin suddenly.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, you could say that," replied Wobs unperturbed.
"What about the salary?" asked Bernice, wondering if getting more business-like meant that he needed some cash.
"Yes, I'd like that too," he answered, apparently without sarcasm.
"What about deadlines?" asked Kate, "how do you think you will cope with having to produce 120 pages a month on time? Do you mind working quite late?"
"Well, you see, I'm lucky because I don't sleep that much," Wobs replied, "so if there's work to be done, I'll just do it." And there was something in his demeanour that suggested he would.
"Well," said Bernice, at something of a loss confronted by this singular person, If nobody has any other questions perhaps we should pass - "
"I have a question," said Martin suddenly again. "That T-shirt, where did you get it?" Kate and Bernice looked at Martin and then at each other.
"Oh that, well, I have a cousin who travels a lot, and when he comes across a T-shirt he thinks will interest me, he sends it."
"And this one?" continued Martin.
"This one came from Mexico," said Wobs.
Martin nodded, satisfied, and finally Bernice understood.
While Wobs was carrying out the make-up of the test pages in the other room, the last candidate was due to appear, but Janice came in to say that she had phoned in to say that she had 'changed her mind', and wouldn't be coming in. Bernice wondered what chain of events lay behind such a decision, but soon forgot about it. She was more interested in seeing what kind of work Wobs would produce. As far as the others' test pages were concerned, all three of them were in agreement that there was something lacking, something that Wobs seemed to have, though only his work would show for sure.
After a short break, the three of them met up again when the allotted period for the completion of the test was finished. They had given all of the candidates some sample copy from Rubber International, one of Martin's magazines, plus some transparencies selected by Bernice and Kate, together with headlines, captions for photos and some general guidelines for the design - size, style etc. From these a two-page layout was to be produced in around 30 minutes. When they went in to look at Wobs' work, they found that he had not only produced the two-page layout required, but three alternative versions. All three were well-constructed, business-like and yet completely different.
"I like alternative things," he gave as his reason.
Bernice looked at Kate, raised her eyebrows quizzically, and receiving the nod of approval looked at Martin, who also concurred.
"When could you start?" asked Bernice, fearing the worst: she needed somebody that could start soon, otherwise they would have to use freelance designers and layout artists for the first few issues.
"Well, I'm a bit busy tonight, but tomorrow morning?" Wobs was not joking.
"Brilliant," said Bernice. Kate looked pleased: perhaps the magazine would happen after all.
After tying up the loose ends with Wobs, they saw him to the lifts and down to the entrance. Then, as they were about to return to their respective offices, Martin said: "It's fate, you know - " and they were not sure if he was serious or not.
The advertisement had gone in The Guardian at the beginning of the week. It was a reasonably large, composite ad that announced an important new general business launch with tremendous opportunities for ambitious and talented journalists - but then didn't they always? The pattern of the replies was pretty much as she had expected: relatively few for senior posts such as Assistant Editor (who had in any case to be written to with the news that the appointment had already been made, with thanks for their interest and best wishes for the future) and Art Editor, and literally hundreds for the junior post of Reporter.
Bernice remembered well her own experiences of applying for the first job in publishing. It was the standard dilemma: you couldn't get experience until you had it. As a result, breaking this vicious circle was difficult, and required many applications, and to any job that presented itself. Once you were in you could then think about working for a magazine in a field that interested you.
And so Bernice spent considerable time going through the applications for the Reporter's post, weeding out those with simply no hope, trying to gauge from the often quite short letters of application and the condensed life stories hinted at in the bare Curriculum Vitae's exactly what these people were like and whether they would fit in with her plans for the magazine.
She was very conscious of her responsibility in doing this. After all, she was making decisions that would materially affect the careers of many people. Those who were really keen would continue to apply for other posts and eventually obtain them. But there were bound to be some who, through force of circumstances, were unable to do so, and would be forced to compromise, to give up their dreams. She wanted to make sure she did everything possible to help those most deserving.
The number of applications for the more senior posts was much smaller, which made selection of the shortlisted interviewees much easier, but it also meant that the scope for choice was narrower. Getting the right person was therefore more a question of luck.
Although she had refused the help of Dan Scowcroft in the selection process, she did recognise that it was important to have someone else there to provide an alternative viewpoint. It was often quite easy to get the wrong impression, or to miss something obvious on your own, so having a second opinion was always valuable.
For the selection of the Sub-editor, she asked Kate to help. She was an obvious choice in that it would be principally with Kate that the sub would be working. For the others, she asked Martin to be present, who was naturally pleased to be involved. He could reasonably have insisted on his participation, and Bernice appreciated that he was effectively granting her a favour by not doing so. Her request for his help was almost an unconscious repaying of the favour so as not to be too much in his nominal debt. Of such things were company politics made. For the Art Editor, which was a much more subjective matter, she asked both Kate and Martin to help her.
Finding the Art Editor was a priority. Without him or her, the magazine had no form: she needed to hire somebody fast so that they could get on with the design - something that was required for the dummy even before the launch issue. There had been only four applications so far - it was still early days, but Bernice knew that there would not be many more. After all, those who are most enthusiastic for a job apply soonest, so applications arriving later are less like to be the successful candidate, all other things being equal.
Janice had booked one of the interview rooms in the personnel department. It was dreadful, and hardly calculated to put candidates at their ease. It was an internal room with no windows, so the only light was artificial. There was one round table and five chairs. A few of the company's magazines had been placed on the table, and covers of others blown up and hung on the walls in a very faint attempt to give the room some character.
Janice had contacted the candidates and arranged for them to come in at 45 minute intervals. In some ways it was ludicrous trying to judge someone's abilities in this time-span but realistically Bernice was unable to spare any more. Besides which, she always felt that a good interviewer should know within a few minutes whether the person was right or not.
Martin and Kate turned up a few minutes before the first candidate was due to arrive - Kate coming in specially - and they agreed on a basic structure to the interview: Bernice would lead things, using the applicant's CV as the starting point. The others had copies, and would add their own questions as they went along.
The first candidate was internal to Wright's. The jobs had been advertised internally before they had appeared in the national press, as was only right. John Thirlmere was currently Art Editor on Steel Today, and so was understandably keen to move on from having to use pictures of steelworks and forges every month. His CV showed him to have been a loyal servant of the company, but unfortunately the portfolio of designs that he had brought with him as requested - presumably the best that he had produced in the last few years - were as slablike as the iron blocks they described. Although the interview process was duly completed, including a request to make up some test pages for them in another interview room nearby, all three of them agreed that they need someone with a little more pizzazz.
The first external candidate certainly had something. She was dressed in what looked like some designer concoction: whether this was her normal art editing gear was not entirely clear. Besides, as Bernice well knew, interviews do strange things to people, causing them to suspend their better judgement and to act in all sorts of extraordinary and uncharacteristic ways.
Camilla Litton worked for Stellar Publications according to her CV, a company unfamiliar to her interviewers, and earned a very considerable salary there. Bernice feared that even if she were as good as the salary implied, they would not be able match the latter, and so would not be able to take her on. However, it shortly became clear why her salary was so high when she brought out her portfolio, rather reluctantly as they noted.
Her entire portfolio consisted of spreads - in several senses - of naked women in various improbable postures and situations. Stellar Publications turned out to be one of the leading publishers of pornography. Although Kate and Bernice disapproved strongly, Bernice could see how poor Camilla was doubly trapped: first by her high salary, which meant that she would find it hard to match it elsewhere, and secondly by the subject of her work, which meant that it was difficult for anyone to judge her artistic abilities since the content so overpowered the form. After a rather brief discussion of her current work, she too was asked to make up the test pages.
While she was doing that they interviewed the third candidate, Elmore Bowen. When Bernice saw that he was black she couldn't help thinking of the appalling Mr Scowcroft's injunctions. As a result she was probably inclined to look more favourably on his application. As she talked through his CV with him - rather an uncertain collection of jobs here and there - he emerged as a tremendously gentle character who belied his large and powerful frame. But as she half-feared, his portfolio was very weak, consisting of a few flyers, small local magazines and suchlike. Bernice was struck by how unfair it all was: he had probably had limited educational opportunities, and as a result now had limited ones in employment. Rather like Camilla, he was now trapped by his past which made it difficult for him to break out and create a different future. And his test pages turned out indeed to be simple - too simple, unfortunately, even for someone as sympathetic as Bernice.
The three of them were getting tired now. Sitting in that small room, concentrating on catching every hint or sign, trying to listen to the candidate's answer while formulating the next question - it was draining, even with constant supplies of coffee brought in by Janice after every candidate arrived. It was also depressing as the interviewees passed by without any obvious winner among them. To spend hours in this way without a result - and with so much else to do - was hardly fun.
At least the next candidate looked like he might wake them up a little. The name on his CV was simply Wobs: whether this was a first or last name was not clear. He was a small leprechaun of a thing, who seemed little bigger than a child, and to possess a child's constant energy. His short black hair was tightly curled, his face triangular and his eyes an indescribable colour mixing grey, yellow, green and brown. He came in listening to a Walkman, which would cause him to swerve his body occasionally, presumably responding to some imperious rhythm in the music. He was also clutching a bottle of Lucozade, as if to refresh himself during the interview, and a bulging portfolio.
Bernice expected Martin to be outraged by all this, but when she glanced at him she saw that he was staring transfixed at Wobs' T-shirt which showed a strange stylised drawing of a man with blonde hair and a beard wearing a multi-coloured cape made of feathers. Underneath was the word 'Quetzalcoatl'. Martin seemed unable to take his eyes off it.
The leprechaun finally acknowledged their presence by switching off the Walkman, removing the earphones and sitting down, though he would still sometimes shake his head as if to some internal music that was still going on in his brain.
"Right, then," said Bernice, "thanks for coming in to see us. My name's Bernice, this is Kate and this is Martin. We're respectively the Editor, Production Editor and Publisher of the new title mentioned in the job ad." Wobs seemed to nod as if he understood, although it may just have been another cymbal clash in his head.
"Er, your name here is Wobs - just Wobs?" asked Bernice.
"Right," Wobs said with a faint Irish accent, as if she had grasped the situation correctly, and no further explanation was necessary. Bernice found herself unable to pursue this line of enquiry. Kate, she knew, was indifferent to these matters of form, but she was surprised that Martin, usually quite a stickler for these things, did not take the matter up. But he still sat there, looking at the T-shirt, obviously deep in thought.
There was not really much to say about Wobs' CV. After graduating from art school he had been working - freelance she assumed - on a wide variety of commercial and non-commercial projects. Although she tried to explore some of his past work he seemed to have little to say, and so they passed on to his portfolio.
This proved to be immensely varied, and much of it was pretty outrageous too. Anything that could be done graphically, Wobs seemed to have tried. Most would have been completely inappropriate for a business magazine, and yet there was something there, particularly in the more normal work he had brought, that suggested he might just have what they were looking for: a completely fresh approach to designing a business magazine. But one thing was still unclear to her: why did he want the job?
"Well, this is certainly an impressive portfolio," said Bernice, with Kate nodding in agreement, "though obviously not directly relevant to a business title. I wonder what it is that attracts you to this particular job?"
"Well," Wobs began, in what was to prove a rare flight of rhetorical outpouring, "I've decided that I need to get more business-like so I thought the best way would be to join a business magazine. I've looked at a few titles and think that I can do as good. Then this job came up and I said to myself 'Wobs, this has your name written on it'..."
"Fate, you mean?" said Martin suddenly.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, you could say that," replied Wobs unperturbed.
"What about the salary?" asked Bernice, wondering if getting more business-like meant that he needed some cash.
"Yes, I'd like that too," he answered, apparently without sarcasm.
"What about deadlines?" asked Kate, "how do you think you will cope with having to produce 120 pages a month on time? Do you mind working quite late?"
"Well, you see, I'm lucky because I don't sleep that much," Wobs replied, "so if there's work to be done, I'll just do it." And there was something in his demeanour that suggested he would.
"Well," said Bernice, at something of a loss confronted by this singular person, If nobody has any other questions perhaps we should pass - "
"I have a question," said Martin suddenly again. "That T-shirt, where did you get it?" Kate and Bernice looked at Martin and then at each other.
"Oh that, well, I have a cousin who travels a lot, and when he comes across a T-shirt he thinks will interest me, he sends it."
"And this one?" continued Martin.
"This one came from Mexico," said Wobs.
Martin nodded, satisfied, and finally Bernice understood.
While Wobs was carrying out the make-up of the test pages in the other room, the last candidate was due to appear, but Janice came in to say that she had phoned in to say that she had 'changed her mind', and wouldn't be coming in. Bernice wondered what chain of events lay behind such a decision, but soon forgot about it. She was more interested in seeing what kind of work Wobs would produce. As far as the others' test pages were concerned, all three of them were in agreement that there was something lacking, something that Wobs seemed to have, though only his work would show for sure.
After a short break, the three of them met up again when the allotted period for the completion of the test was finished. They had given all of the candidates some sample copy from Rubber International, one of Martin's magazines, plus some transparencies selected by Bernice and Kate, together with headlines, captions for photos and some general guidelines for the design - size, style etc. From these a two-page layout was to be produced in around 30 minutes. When they went in to look at Wobs' work, they found that he had not only produced the two-page layout required, but three alternative versions. All three were well-constructed, business-like and yet completely different.
"I like alternative things," he gave as his reason.
Bernice looked at Kate, raised her eyebrows quizzically, and receiving the nod of approval looked at Martin, who also concurred.
"When could you start?" asked Bernice, fearing the worst: she needed somebody that could start soon, otherwise they would have to use freelance designers and layout artists for the first few issues.
"Well, I'm a bit busy tonight, but tomorrow morning?" Wobs was not joking.
"Brilliant," said Bernice. Kate looked pleased: perhaps the magazine would happen after all.
After tying up the loose ends with Wobs, they saw him to the lifts and down to the entrance. Then, as they were about to return to their respective offices, Martin said: "It's fate, you know - " and they were not sure if he was serious or not.
