Write the headline. Print the paper. Find out what the town thinks.
Five stories drop on the wire every morning. Pick the lead, pick what runs underneath it, pick a photograph. Then write the headline yourself, out of fragments, and put it on the press.
Nobody here will tell you whether it was any good. The town will.
THE HEADLINE IS THE GAME
You assemble it a word at a time. COUNCIL ADMITS THREE-WEEK DELAY is a different paper from WASTE TSAR BURIES RAT ARMY, and both are yours. The game never comments on what you made. It just prints it.
THREE PEOPLE YOU ANSWER TO, AND YOU CANNOT KEEP ALL THREE
Readers want heat. The law wants truth. The proprietor wants his own opinions back in print by Thursday. Every edition serves two of them at the expense of the third, and which two is the only real decision in the game.
THE PRESS
Plates lock. Half a second of nothing. Then your page runs, ink heavy on the first dozen copies and settling as it goes, until the last one lands flat.
IN THE MORNING
Circulation. Complaints. One letter to the editor. And one telephone call from somebody who is not happy.
A LIE IS CHEAP UNTIL IT ISN'T
Print something thin about somebody who can afford a solicitor and you will get a writ. Three of those and you settle, out of the paper's own money. There is a lawyer. You could ring the lawyer.
AND THE PAPER REMEMBERS
Every front page you have ever run is in the back issues, and what you asserted on edition four can come back as established fact on edition twenty - along with the writ, if you made it up.
Two to three minutes an edition. Forty stories, five hundred headline fragments, and rather more front pages than anybody has read.
Every story, person and paper in this game is invented.
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Write the headline. Print the paper. Readers, the law, the owner: pick one.