Everyone's a Critic Read Online Free PDF Page B

notebook paper it was written on and read it again.
    Dear Too Honest , I typed.
    There isn’t anything wrong with being honest with your friend.
    Then I just stared at my computer screen. I had no idea what to say, and we needed to run something for next week.

    The following day we had a meeting in the Voice office with Mr. Trigg. Trigger wanted to see how his crazy idea was going. I didn’t want to sit next to Michael. It just made me sad to think that my one chance of going to a play with Michael Lawrence was already dead in the water. I got there first, as usual, and just as I was sitting down, there he was.
    â€œHey there, P,” he said, slightly out of breath, and he plopped himself right down next to me. His hair fell into his eyes and he tossed his head in a particularly adorable way. This only made me feel more sorry for myself.
    â€œHow’s the switcheroo going, lads? Easy peasy?” Mr. Trigg asked. Everyone grew quiet. Nobody, in fact, said anything.
    â€œHello out there?” he said. “Does that mean everything is hunky-dory?”
    â€œWell, it’s definitely harder than I thought,” said one of the sports reporters now covering news.
    â€œYeah!” said an arts reporter covering sports. “I never knew it was so complicated to cover a sports game.”
    â€œI knew this was going to be a disaster,” I whispered in Michael’s ear. He just smiled; then Mr. Trigg looked at me. I hoped he hadn’t heard what I said.
    â€œAh, see? I’m keeping you on your toes,” he said to the group. “The worst thing for any journalist is to be too familiar with a subject beforehand. That stops you from asking interesting questions, thinking about things from all angles. Change is good. It helps you get closer to the truth.”
    I hope so , I thought. Afterward, Mr. Trigg had us break up into groups and discuss any problems we were having with our stories. Icouldn’t discuss the problem I was having with my Dear Know-It-All letter and Michael and I hadn’t started our piece yet, so we just listened to some of the issues other people were having. Some of the arts writers complained that in a news story they couldn’t voice their opinions. Duh , I thought. Some of the newswriters complained that writing a sports story didn’t allow for any research, which some of the sportswriters said was wrong. All in all, it seemed that no one was really happy. I wanted to wait until everyone was gone so I could talk to Mr. Trigg and check and see if there were any new Dear Know-It-All letters.
    After our meeting was done, Michael turned to me. “You walking out?”
    â€œNot yet. I have to ask Mr. Trigg something.”
    Michael stared at me for a moment. I’ve always wondered if he’s known all along that I’m Dear Know-It-All, but he’s never come out and asked me.
    â€œOh, okay. I’ll catch you later, Paste,” he said, and bounded out the door.
    Yeah, later, like in after the play that we’re not going to together.
    â€œSo what can I do you for?” Mr. Trigg said after everyone had left. “How’s the column treating you?” He took a sip of tea out of his mug, which had a British flag on it, and leaned back in his chair.
    I sat down in a chair near his desk and took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt tired. It had been an exhausting week, but I wasn’t even sure why.
    â€œThat good, huh?” he said, and winked at me while taking another sip of tea. “Tea?” he offered.
    â€œNo thanks. I’m okay, but I have a tough letter that I want to answer this week. I didn’t think it was so tough, but the more I think about it, the more I’m not sure how to answer it.”
    â€œSo why don’t you answer another letter?” he asked. This was weird. Mr. Trigg was all about going after the hard stuff.
    I considered this for a moment. “I think I just need more time,” I