Good news--there are more of them; bad news--there should be more still. The reason there are any at all is due to the 1971 FCC ruling on affirmative-action programs for women: stations suddenly began swooping up black women, chicano women, Italian women, Chinese-American women, to do double-minority duty. Those who survived did so because of intelligence, guts, hard work, and incredible ambition. The hours are endless, the work grueling, and hardly any of the women are married, let alone have children. (Male reporters' marriages fare little better; like sailors, they come home to wash the laundry and father another child they'll rarely see.) The big step is yet to come--female anchorpersons and news directors. The greatest drama in this competent but hardly stirring study is the author herself: a would-be broadcaster who accepted pre-liberation definitions of womanhood (she graduated from college in 1959) and never made it. This book should help hold the torch up for the luckier ones who came after. A word of advice--it helps to be the youngest child, and don't go to journalism school.