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Jacob Carl Novak, news writer. Although he has just under a decade of paying his dues in the real world, he can be described as an old-school writer and preferred the title investigative journalist. Somehow, after nearly a decade since he graduated college, Jake has retained a solid belief in honest unbiased reporting, despite the demands made by his many employers over the years. He worked hard and made his deadlines, but hated many of the assignments he was given, fluff pieces mostly, nothing that had any more depth than a kiddie pool. Jake would plod through the shallow reports and in most of them he would deliver what his editors wanted until he would come across a story lead he felt had real merit. He couldn't help himself, it was his nature and certainly in his genes. In this, he is very much like his late uncle Carl, also a reporter with a bloodhound's instinct to follow a story.
Uncle Carl was Jake's inspiration to make journalism his career. He loved his uncle's stories, especially the ones that never got officially published. The same stories that eventually destroyed a promising career and got his uncle blacklisted. Uncle Carl did well enough through his life as a journalist, but he just couldn't let a story go if it was unsolved and seemed unexplainable. Because of the subject matter Uncle Carl wrote about, he eventually ended up on the paranormal circuit doing UFO conventions and late-night radio talk shows.
Jake vowed to never let the industry turn him into a sideshow attraction as they did to Uncle Carl. A story backed by verifiable facts can't be ridiculed and Jake will dig until he got to the truth, whatever that might be. Although he is quick to debunk a story, Jake is still open-minded enough to be certain by following every lead no matter where it would go. Regardless of Jake's intentions to walk a different path than his uncle's, the fates would have him hiking down those same dark paths. Jake will soon journey into the deepest shadows, driven by the hope of finding a beacon that sheds light on the truth and validates his uncle's life's work.
It's deadline day and Jake is late to his job with the Illinois Examiner. It's another shallow story with no substance, a phantom that will vanish after the title is glanced over by the reader. But it is time sensitive, a piece on the recent political fundraiser by a candidate and political party Jake despised. Although he spent most of his weekend researching the candidate and looking for an angle, he was mostly looking into allegations of sexual misconduct and rumors of Satanic worship. Unfortunately, that's not the angle the editor wanted, a point made entirely too clear when Jake turned in his assignment. It was the final straw, Jake is once again unemployed. It was becoming a clear pattern in Jake's career. He's an excellent worker and a fine writer, for about a year or so. After a couple of Employee of the Month awards, his interest would wain, and his concentration would weaken. By a year, maybe a year and a half, he was searching the job boards for another employer, but this time around there were few choices left.
Jake is finding out about the blacklist now, he had developed a reputation and word had got around. After getting fired from half a dozen jobs reporting for the local media outlets, he had used up any options within a reasonable commute. It's time to think about relocating or settling for something that will just pay the bills. He decided to drink and spent nearly a month and much of his scant savings enjoying his ancestral beverage of choice, beer. But alas, bills must be paid, and so Jake began his job search in earnest.
The sound of the television that Jake had left on the night before stirs him from his deep drunken coma. He opens his swollen red eyes and wipes the drool from his mouth and pillow as he slowly rises from his bed. The hangover is bad, but after weeks of marathon drinking unfiltered and unpasteurized locally brewed beers, it seemed normal now. At least it isn't vomit on his pillow and he hadn't urinated in the bed.
He finds half a cigarette in an ashtray by his bed and lights it while he looks for his smartphone. Upon finding the phone, he activates the recording app and recites, "It's 11:53 AM, February 20th." Jake stumbles over clothing on the floor as he makes his way over to the window, parts the curtains, looks out, and continues. "A cold, cloudy, and miserable day in a miserable place called Chicago land. I wonder how many violent offenses were committed last night? A question not often asked by the established media these days." He continues his rant while he relieves his bladder in the joining bathroom. This is the beginning of Jake's day, the start of his daily ritual that developed since his last gainful employment. As much as Jake's current occupation appeared to be drinking beer with not less than 8% alcohol by volume, his more sober efforts have been in submitting job applications with no results beyond a couple of rejections. The phone call that interrupts his standard morning dictation is about to change all that.
While Jake is ranting into his phone about how the whole field of journalism is riddled with misinformation, spin, and downright lies, an incoming call ends his tirade. "Damn telemarketers!" is his first thought, but after his eyes focus on the caller ID, he realizes it's a follow-up call on a resume he sent out to a media company in Michigan. Because of his recent experiences with his job search, he wonders if this was a rejection phone call. He rarely gets any feedback from his job applications except for an occasional rejection email. Jake believes he may have the opportunity to give a response to an application rejection that will be heard, if only by an office secretary.
