“No!” Hal shook his head violently with a look that said, Eeek! Not that! Anything but you!

“More authentic,” Bibb repeated, as if it were a tonal language. “Develop something you’re known for, a texture and personality that is uniquely your own. A character. To make viewers want to know you and know about you.”

What about the news? Isn’t the point that viewers want to know about the news? Natalie wondered but managed not to say.

“Look at the reporters in the front row at the White House,” Bibb went on. “One looks handsomely intellectual, someone you’d love to sit next to at a dinner. Another is dapper with well-coordinated pocket squares and ties, like he’d be fun at a cocktail party. Even the curly-haired girl—it’s a terrible look, but you recognize her instantly. She’s that neighbor you can leave the dog with when you go out of town. Bring her back a dish towel or pot holder, something small.”

“So I need to develop a thing.” Natalie was trying to play along. “What about a pair—?”

“No glasses,” Hal cut in, apparently reading her mind.

“No glasses on a woman over twenty-five ever,” Bibb added with finality.

Hal looked at Bibb, with earnest concern. “Did you mention the, ah, you know?” As Hal spoke, he did a circling motion near one eye.

“Oh yes,” Bibb said. Looking pained, she leaned forward. “Natalie, are you aware you have on only one set of eyelashes? Did you forget to do the other eye?”

In all the rush she’d forgotten. “No, the other one fell off,” she said, embarrassed, reaching up to peel the remaining lash off her eye.

“I see. Well, we can’t have reporters looking like one-eyed raccoons—”

“In the land of the blind, the one-eyed reporter is king,” Hal intoned enthusiastically.

“Please, Hal.” Bibb shot him a dismissive look and, turning back to Natalie, assumed a patient smile. “All right, I’d like this to be productive. Natalie, the truth is that in this business, hardworking women are a dime a dozen. Especially at your stage of the game.” Bibb said this with an intonation that meant only one thing: your age. As in, over thirty. She continued, “Frankly, talented men are the rarity. They are prized. So in order to stand out as a woman in the news business, you have to display something special.” Bibb paused to smile in sympathetic understanding. “That means you need to consider what is special about you.”

Natalie began mentally flipping through her résumé with a creeping awareness of how irrelevant all the actual items—class president, valedictorian, magna cum laude, twelve years in news trenches, eight hurricanes, five celebrity trials, Emmy winner—would sound to her present judge and jury. To win in this court of law, she’d need more Sparkle! Vivacity! Enthusiasm!