But for a young man working on a newspaper, you got to look for grapes as well as watermelons.
This is an onion. It's a metaphor for a news story. Only a few hours ago I was standing on a ledge sixty stories above astreet interviewing a man who subsequently jumped to his death. Forty million dollars in the bank, happily married, good health. Great story! There's gotta be more. We're pros, right? Some kinda extramarital hanky panky, maybe? Another good story! Maybe the guy's been accused of child molesting. Terrific story! Then it turns out the accusation was false. Wonderful! More story. Maybe the alleged mistress was lying, setting the guy up. Sensational story! We keep going, keep digging, keep investigating. We expose the guy's whole life, his family. Why? Because we're pros! Because... we're looking for the truth! But what if, after all our digging, after all our painstaking investigation, what if it turns out there wasn't any truth? Just stories! One story after another, one layer, then another layer, until there's nothing left. And if it's like that, do we have any obligation to stop at any point? Or do we just keep going, digging, digging, digging, peeling, peeling, peeling, until we've peeled it all away, until we've destroyed what we were investigating in the first place?
— Whatever, details, details. The point is, they're publishing it in the February issue and they're paying me three thousand dollars for it. How crazy is that? — Congrats, Andy. Seriously, that's amazing. And now you'll have this as a clip, right? — Yep. Hey, it's not The New Yorker, but it's an OK first step. If I can round up a few more of these, maybe in some different magazines, too, I might be getting somewhere. I have a meeting with the woman on Friday, and she told me to bring anything else I've been working on. And she didn't even ask if I speak French. And she hates Miranda. I can work with this woman.