The busy schedule was starting to take its toll. I knew I wanted to be on the radio everyday, but to be doing a Breakfast Show in the morning followed by a day at School and spending most of my Saturday at ‘Bolton Market Radio’ was very tiring. But that’s the nature of the job. As I write this, it’s a snow ridden Sunday evening, 5pm, and I’m sat in the office at XFM. I’ve got a hotel room around the corner and will be back in this building at 5.30am tomorrow morning for Breakfast. I’m on Breakfast all week and Tuesday evening will be on BBC Radio Manchester till 10pm. I’ll get back around midnight and be back up for Breakfast the next day, to do a similar thing again. My next day off is 8thJanuary. I’m exhausted, but I’m not complaining. This time last year I would have killed for coverage like this. One thing I tell people, who ask me about getting into the industry, is that those who get into it for an easy ride to money and fame get out of it very quickly. For one, there isn’t a great amount of money to be made; not until you get to the top at least.
Radio can be a very lucrative job, but not before years and years of long hours and hard work. Sure, I’m feeling tired. The thought alone is making me feel a bit weary, but is this not what I’ve always wanted to do? How on earth can anyone complain that they are doing too much of their dream job? And I felt the same at school.
I’d started to make a name for myself at ‘Bolton Market Radio’. I created a new role as well as doing my show. I did a slot in the morning, called The News Hour, a round up of the days news from 9-10am; then the rest of the day I would produce and present the news and sport bulletins. For those who asked, I was News and Sport Editor. It was great fun and gave me a new string to my bow, plus, it gave me and excuse to be there all day, which was the most important thing.’ That coupled with my Breakfast show on Rivi FM, people began to see that I was taking this quite seriously. I remember one point, walking home from the football with my Granddad, we where talking about the radio and he said to me, “I think we should stick with this”. My family, as was with every other madcap idea I’ve had, where 100% on side. But it was a different story with friends. I’d started to spend a lot more time working in the studio and a lot less time with them. The idea of a Saturday afternoon spent at ‘Bolton Market Radio’ wasn’t as attractive to them as it clearly was to me, and I took a bit of stick for that. When you are so passionate about something it’s very hard to make others see. I got the feeling that a lot of people where not taking this as seriously as I was, and that was very frustrating. I wanted to gain some kind of success that would show people why I put so much time and effort into it. An amazing opportunity to work for the BBC hit me at just the right time.
After being called to see Mr Laycock (the teacher in charge of Rivi FM), he showed me an e-mail he had received. It was from the BBC, saying that they where contacting schools and groups around the UK that have set up radio stations. They where searching for a young person to anchor a week of special programmes on the BBC World Service no less. It was perfect. He asked if I fancied entering the competition and I told him not to be so silly, of course I did! The BBC had sent a script, designed to be a bit complicated, and requested a demo of the candidate reading that script. It would be a bit of cliché for me to say that, after sending it off, I never thought about it again; but I really didn’t. I just got on with the Breakfast Show and ‘Bolton Market Radio’. The date the BBC gave us for finding out how we had done came and went. I was fairly sure I didn’t make it. We would have heard by this point, surly. I went away on a school trip, to the Lake District. We where very cut off from the world with no phone signal or internet. Half way into the long weekend, Miss Holden, who was with us, pulled me away from the rest of the group and told me that there was a phone call for me. I wasn’t too sure what it was, but Miss Holden was looking oddly happy. If something really bad had happened, I doubt she would have that massive grin on her face. I went to the office of the cabin we where staying in and took a hold of the phone. It was my mum. She didn’t sound that upset. She reminded me of the BBC World Service competition, and told how she had just come off the phone with Mr Laycock. She had news. This was in then. She read out an
e-mail that Mr Laycock had forwarded onto her. It said that they had received over 1000 applications and because of the high uptake, it had taken longer to reach a decision then expected. It went on to say how pleased they where to offer me a place in the final 11. YES! I had done it. They wanted me in London on Tuesday, after I got back on the Monday. The 11 finalists where to meet the production team and receive voice coaching before producing a final demo that would then be judged by the World Service listeners and a panel of BBC executives. Everybody on the trip was congratulating me and finally I felt like the hard work was beginning to pay off.
The day in London was a bit of a haze. We arrived at Bush House, the home of the World Service and met up with the other finalists. After a talk from the producer, we where introduced to John Briggs. As well as owning his own voice over agency he provided the voice for the weakest link and other BBC TV programmes. He spent some time with each of us, coaching us on how to use our voice properly before we where given a bunch of information to turn into a script. After we had done that, we would record our script to be submitted to the panel. I spent the entire day shaking with nerves and excitement. I’d never been to a proper radio station before, and then all of a sudden here I was, at the biggest one in the world. The day passed in a flash and I was back on Rivi FM. We recorded a short promo that would be played on the air, encouraging listeners to vote for us in the competition. I got a copy of this and played it every 5 minuets on Rivi FM. I can’t remember how confident I felt, if at all. I remember sizing up the rest of the candidates, and thinking I had a fairly good chance.
The time between the day in London and the announcing of the results felt like a decade. We where given an approximate date but nothing was set in stone. I was sat at home one cold October evening when the phone rang. I answered and my heart skipped a beat as Mr Laycock introduced himself at the other end. He said that he had got an e-mail off the BBC about the competition. I took a deep breath as he began to read the results…
To be continued on Monday 7thJanuary, until then you can find me at www.twitter.com/darrylmorrisor on XFM Manchester. Merry Christmas…