Read Read All About It! Online
Authors: Rachel Wise
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real
people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and
incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON
SPOTLIGHT
An imprint of Simon & Schuster
Children's Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
Copyright © 2012 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved,
including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon &
Schuster, Inc.
Text by Elizabeth Doyle Carey Designed by Laura L. DiSiena
0612 OFF
First Edition
ISBN 978-1-4424-4402-7 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4424-5382-1 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4424-4403-4 (eBook)
Library of Congress Control Number
2011943077
Contents
Chapter 1: Martone Says School Year Off to Good Start!
Chapter 2: Best Friends Reunite
Chapter 3: Girl Sues Classmate for HarassmentâThen Marries Him!
Chapter 4: Buddybook: Now More Addictive Than Ever!
Chapter 5: Martone Throws in The Towel
Chapter 6: Martone Fires Best Friend, Becomes Hermit
Chapter 7: Martone Back From Brink of Disaster
Chapter 8: Stomach Ruckus Drives Away Hottie
Chapter 9: Girl Genius Strikes Again
Chapter 10: Murder on The Soccer Field
Chapter 11: Girl Leaves Best Friend's HouseâForever!
Chapter 12: Martone Distraught Over Turn of Events
Chapter 13: Deadline Panic Sets In!
Chapter 14: Peace Achieved by Warring Factions
Chapter 15: Best Friend to The Rescue
MARTONE SAYS
SCHOOL YEAR OFF TO GOOD START!
Do you need to know everything about everything? I do. I'm kind
of a newshound, which is what my parents call me. My sister, Allie, calls me weird.
She's only interested in news about celebrities and certain cute guys in her
class. But I am all about
real
news and how to get it.
According to my mom, ever since I could talk, all I've done is ask questions. Now
that I'm older, asking questions is a habit (sometimes a bad one). The hard part
for me is stopping to listen to the answer, because as soon as someone begins to answer,
I'm already forming the next question in my mind! This is okay, though, because I
want to be a journalist when I grow up, and journalists need to ask lots of
questions.
The best thing
ever
happened to me this summer (sorry, sometimes I switch gears fast too!). My aunt Louisa,
who is a reporter, and my idol, gave me the most amazing birthday present: one week at a
sleepaway
writing camp! My best friend, Hailey, goes to
sports camp, and she thought writing camp sounded sooooo boring, but it wasn't at
all. And the best part was you got to pick what kind of writing you focused on while you
were there. I picked journalism, of course. My teacher was this cool old guy named Mr.
Bloom, who'd been the international news desk editor for the
New York Times
. He was old, but he was really smart, and he taught me a ton
about journalism.
Journalism is reporting and writing what is going on in the world around
you, near and far, and it is really fun because you get to ask lots of questions and
learn lots of facts! Every story you write has to answer these questions: What? Who?
Where? When? Why? And how?
Like if I were reporting a story about myself right now, I'd
write:
Monday, September 7
Samantha Martone headed back to Cherry Valley Middle School today for
her first day of school. When her alarm rang at 6:30 a.m., she hopped out of bed to
check all the blogs and news websites she likes to read first thing every morning. After
showering and drying her long brown hair, she dressed with care, “Because first
impressions matter,” says Martone.
At school Martone was thrilled to discover that both her best friend since
kindergarten, Hailey Jones,
and
her major crush, Michael
Lawrence, would be in her homeroom this year.
During lunch hour, Samantha visited the office of
the
Cherry Valley Voice,
the school newspaper, to sign up as a
reporter again with Mr. Trigg, the
Voice
's
faculty supervisor. (Shh! Don't tell: Martone would like to
be the editor in chief of
the
Cherry Valley Voice
next year!) Samantha Martone is looking
forward to another great year at Cherry Valley Middle School. “Cherry Valley
rules!” said Ms. Martone.
Isn't that funny? It sounds like real news, right? Pretty much
when you call people by their last names, it makes things sound official. That's
just
one of the things I've learned about journalism during the
past year.
My favorite thing is writing headlines. I write headlines in my mind all
day long. Like, right now I'm on my way home from school. In just one more
suburban block (left on Buttermilk Lane), I will reach number seventeen, where I live,
and the headline will be
Martone Home, Shares Day with Mom.
Later it might be
Martone Kids Riot, Meatloaf Again!
or
Reality Sets In as Homework Pile Is Revealed.
Actually,
that one might be too long. I usually like my headlines to be catchier than that
(“pithy” is the word Mr. Trigg uses), but you get the idea.
“Mom!” I yelled as I entered the house. We live in a
split-level so she could have been upstairs or down. “Mom!”
“In the den, honey!”
I clomped down a level and found her at her desk.
“Hi! How was it?” she asked with a grin. My mom is a
freelance bookkeeper and she had a project spread out all across her work area.
“What's that?” I asked, peering over her
shoulder. “Who's it for? Why do you have so many
ledgers? Hey, when did youâ”
“Stop!” My mom held her hand up in front like a crossing
guard. It's a sign we agreed on for when I'm asking too many questions and
not listening enough, which drives her crazy. “Sit,” she commanded with a
smile.
I sat. I was smiling too.
“Hi, honey,” she said, starting over.
“Hi, Mom.” I tried hard to be quiet and not ask any
questions for a second. At writing camp they said journalists have to know how to be
quiet, too, because sometimes the best information isn't even spoken aloud. Plus,
being a good reporter means you have to be a good listener, too.
“How was your day?” she asked.
I told her all about homeroom and how cute Michael Lawrence looks with a
tan and how great it was to see Hailey, who'd only gotten back from camp a week
earlier and was coming over in an hour to do homework (yes, we have homework already!),
and how I'd signed up for the school paper again and I was thinking of trying out
for the soccer team
with Hailey, and how we have a new curriculum,
and what was for lunch and . . . everything.
“It sounds wonderful!” said my mom. “What a great
day!”
I was happy too. It
had
been a great day. Now
it was my turn to listen while my mom talked.
“In brief, I am working on a project for a new client, and they
have three retail stores, so three accounts. Their old bookkeeper wrote everything by
hand in ledgers, so I'm putting everything into computer files for them.
It's fun.”
“Good!” I said, though I was fibbing. I truly cannot imagine
how bookkeeping is any fun, but it's important to make people feel good about the
work they do so that they will continue to give you information that you might need for
a story. That's another piece of advice I learned at camp. Not that I had to worry
about Mom withholding information, but it was good practice anyway.
My mom hadn't finished. “But more importantly, Mr. Trigg
called from school right before you got here. He asked you to call him back.
Here's his direct extension.” My mom handed me a piece of paper.
“Why was he calling?” I asked. I took the
slip of paper and studied it as if it might contain more information, but all it had was
the number. I didn't like the idea of a call from a teacher. That didn't
sound good. Maybe he was kicking me off the paper! Maybe he thought my writing
wasn't good enough! Now I'll never stand a chance to be editor in chief. . .
. “What did he say?” I asked.
My mom shrugged. “Give him a call,” she said. “Use the
phone in the kitchen so I can finish up here.”
I stood up and, still staring at the number in my hand, trudged up the
stairs and across the hall to the kitchen. I hesitated to pick up the phone and dial.
Usually I love making phone calls. I'll call anyone! I'm never shy on the
phone. But when it's something about
me
 . . . well.
Martone Axed by Trigg
, I thought. But no, he
wouldn't call me at home for that. I shook my head, squared my shoulders, and
dialed the phone.
“Hello?” It was Mr. Trigg. Gosh, he was a fast answerer.
“Hi, Mr. Trigg. . . . It's Sam Martone. Uh. You called
me?”
“Samantha! Thank you for calling me back so
promptly! I have a very important question for you and I couldn't ask it today at
school because there were too many people around. Too many newshounds!” He laughed
his big guffaw. Mr. Trigg is British and kind of a nerd, but I like him. He thinks
grammar and vocabulary are the most important things on Earth. Also impartiality. He
used to be a journalist in London, or as he would say, a “journo.”
I giggled nervously. “Okay,” I said. “What's
up?”
Mr. Trigg collected himself. “Samantha, I will cut to the chase.
Would you like to be our Know-It-All this year?”
My jaw dropped. Dear Know-It-All is the most important column in our
school paper! It's kind of like Dear Abby, where kids write in anonymously about
their problems, and the Know-It-All answers. And no matter what is on the front page of
the paper, Dear Know-It-All is the first thing all the kids read when the paper comes
out, and it is the thing people talk about the most. Whoever writes it each year is a
mystery. No one has ever guessed
who it is. I actually thought Mr.
Trigg himself might be the writer, but apparently not. Anyway, me? Know-It-All? But I
don't know anything!
“Uh . . . oh my gosh. Wow! Mr. Trigg! That is so major. I
don't know what to say!” I felt scared, flattered, excited, inspired . . .
everything all at once! This was huge.