On Covering Up Letters

I hate writing cover letters. It all feels a bit unnatural and inhuman; carving out parts of my life that are deemed ‘irrelevant,’ framing mindless jobs as ‘valuable experience’ and time spent travelling and working odd jobs and learning the world classified neatly as ‘freelancing.’ If getting a few articles published in surf magazines (and getting paid so little that HMRC is shocked you actually reported it) counts as freelancing, then I guess that is what it is. I much prefer the term ‘Wilderness Years.’ Much more intriguing. Why bother lying and saying that it is something else? In all honesty, I think hiring managers might prefer it. I think I prefer it too, not least because it does not set me up to have to twist some enthymeme, some truth stretched to its breaking point. Take, for example, the situation that I could very well find myself in (if, God willing, I ever actually get through to the interview stage), of some recruiter asking me one of their horribly open ended questions, the type that makes the Brit in me quiver and squirm with how much it will force me to blow my own trumpet: “Tell me about your time freelancing.” There are three possible answers: the truth, the ‘truth,’ and the reality.

The truth: I spent much of that time writing pitches that I got too scared to send, mostly out of the fear of rejection (or worse, silence), but also out of a fear of them being accepted. If they got accepted, I would actually have to make the thing, and that would have been an experience of such terrifying pressure that it was easier to just not send the pitches. I wrote a lot of good stuff though, and had some great ideas too, at least one novel that I remember, and two miniseries. I got a few pieces published here and there, though I barely got paid for them, and I spent more time working a minimum wage job in a cold warehouse than I did on assignment.

Not a good answer. So let’s try the ‘truth.’

Whilst freelancing, I worked for a range of NGOs and publications. I loved having to be adaptable, and moving between different projects rapidly. Moreover, it gave me an avenue to explore my own interests, something that I think was invaluable for me at that stage in my career. Having had that chance to work as self-employed, I would like to now transition to working in a team environment, as I have learnt that I work my best when I am working collaboratively with motivated, passionate people. That is what drew me to this role in particular.

Wow, so smooth, yet such bullshit. Or not bullshit, but an implied bullshit. An enthymeme. And now, the reality.

I wasn’t really freelancing, that was a semi dream that I used because it was easier to say that than to say that I spent a few years bumming around, travelling, reading an awful lot and trying to find my place in the world. I was in a bit of a hurry to find it actually, but even so, I am glad I took the time that I did. I experienced things that changed me at my core, I pushed myself in ways I never thought I could, I pushed myself a bit too hard and broke myself, I loved, I cried, I formed friendships that live deep within me, I let myself wander and get lost and find myself again.  I spent my time in the wilderness, and now here I am. And having experienced that, I can assure you that I am only here because I want to be here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come back. 

I’m unsure which of those three hiring managers actually want to see. Thus far, the second one has not served me very well. I don’t make it through the paper sift, perhaps because in my efforts to cover up the untraditional path my life has wound, I just make myself boring. I am not a safe bet candidate (the word freelance anywhere on a CV makes sure of that), and my current approach doesn’t make me seem like an interesting one either.

If you are a hiring manager and you are reading this (and especially if you are reading this because I sent you a job application), can you please email me (peters.sam@gmail.com) to let me know which one you prefer. I know there is an element of professionalism to uphold, but I wonder when professionalism became straight up lying. Or not even lying, just pretending that we are not humans, that we are not fallible and complicated. It seems like an absurd oversight to look only at achievement, to wring every last iota of value out of inane aspects of our lives, whilst the unique parts of us get blanketed by buzzwords. 

And for fuck’s sake, we let Jesus off the hook for wandering in the wilderness for a bit. If it is fine for the saviour of our souls, then it is fine for an Assistant Account Executive.

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