“IS THIS DESK A LITTLE too big?” Erica asks, sitting behind a desk the size of a conference table. “I’m afraid it’s going to cut me off from viewers. Remember, our format is less talking-headsy than most news shows. We’re going to have more medium shots, and I’m going to be moving between the desk and the seating area. And occasionally out into the audience. Otherwise, I love it.”
Erica is test-driving the set of The Erica Sparks Effect, which premieres in three short weeks. The show’s director, Ali Cheung; its designer, Natalie Ferro; and Greg are with her. The studio is a state-of-the-art space with seating for a small audience, a first for a newscast.
“The desk gives you authority,” Ali says. She’s serious, low-key, one of the best in the business.
“I want authority, not autocracy.” Erica has had conversations with Ali and Greg about the sort of culture she wants backstage—one that’s generous, respectful of everyone no matter what their rank, its high standards leavened with humor and caring. If someone is doing a good job, they’ll receive absolute support. No backbiting, no drama, no divas.
Erica understands that at the end of the day, she’s the captain of this ship. It’s up to her to model the behaviors and work ethic and consideration she expects everyone to deliver. It’s about bringing her best self to work every day—and inspiring everyone else to do the same. If she can accomplish that, the show will soar.
“I want the show to be a dialogue with viewers, not a lecture. I really want us to be fresh—a little bit of Ellen, a little bit of Oprah, and a lot of hard-driving investigative reporting. The desk feels like armor.”
“Out with the desk!” Ferro, chic and cool in all black, says in her Italian accent. “I’ll have a smaller one in this afternoon.”
Erica gets up, walks over to the seating area, and sits in one of the two love seats facing each other over a coffee table. The tones are soothing beiges and creams with pops of color on the pillows and accessories. Erica wants a balance of comfortable and stimulating, and Natalie has delivered.
Suddenly music pours out of the speakers and fills the studio. It’s the latest iteration of the show’s theme music. Everyone stops and listens—it’s bright and melodic with a pulsing underbeat that gradually grows stronger, holding a promise of important things to come.
“This is fantastic!” Erica says. A wave of elation sweeps over her—she’s dreamed of having her own show for a decade and now it’s all coming together. She leaps up and does an impromptu little jig. Everyone in the studio laughs, the good energy flows—and Erica feels like she’s at home.
As she’s walking down the hall to her office, Nancy Huffman appears.
“Erica, I’ve been swamped with orders since the Correspondents’ Dinner. I’ve had to hire three dressmakers to keep up.”
“You may have to quit your day job.”
“Stranger things have happened.” She grasps Erica’s hand. “Thank you.”
Erica heads down to her office and opens the door. Then she screams.