A Very Employable Face
The résumé my mother passed on to me
I’ve written plenty about being nervous to send freelance writing pitches to editors.
But I’ve gotten over that nervousness, for the most part, because I now know most pitches go unanswered, forever circling the drain of some horrendously clogged inbox.
I was nervous for a different reason when I pitched an essay idea to the lifestyle editor at SELF magazine: I knew she would commission it.
The topic was one I haven’t written about yet—it makes me uncomfortable, but also makes for incredible content—so I had a feeling the universe would force me into it. Leap and the net will appear, I guess?
I was right. The editor loved my pitch and was going to pay me $600 to write the essay. I was on cloud nine when she sent me the assignment on April 15.
But the universe always serves up another twist. The very next day, Condé Nast shuttered SELF magazine for good.
I was shocked, but not surprised, if that makes any sense. I’ve been watching writing jobs disappear since 2009, when I was an editorial intern at The Seattle Times.
At first it was thrilling to work in the buzzing newsroom and rub elbows with locally famous columnists in the break room while microwaving my Lean Cuisine for lunch, but less so when I clocked all the empty desks after a round of layoffs. Seattle’s other major newspaper, the Post-Intelligencer, drastically reduced its staff and went online-only that same year.
I wanted to be a political reporter (remember: Obama years), but went into copywriting instead.
That worked out for many years. Then AI.
And now even the media gatekeepers I’ve been trying to appease have been removed from their posts. That SELF editor who was going to give me $600 is busy looking for her next paycheck, same as me.
There are so few jobs left for writers and so many talented people competing for them. I’ve been applying to anything and everything that even remotely brushes up against my skillset, and still I lose out to candidates who have more specific experience in PR, communications, marketing, professional development, whatever.
My net grows ever wider. My standards drop ever lower. It’s not a great place to be.
The good news is my mother’s house has officially sold, and my stepdad has a nice check to pick up from the law office that manages her living trust. He has to go to a different location than the one he’s been to before, and while looking up the address on their website, he said, “Hey, they’re hiring an administrative assistant!”
In that moment, it all clicked: Of course this is the type of job I’ll get.
It’s the exact job my mother got after being out of the workforce for many years while raising my brother and me.
It’s the exact job that aligns perfectly with all the detail-oriented (complimentary) and nitpicky (reality) personality traits she passed on to me.
It’s the exact job I’ve been avoiding in my as-yet unsuccessful quest to veer from the life path she traveled before me.
One of the problems with modern interviewing is it’s all done via video call. You can kind of get a sense of someone on screen, but in person, the vibe can be totally different. Back in the old days, when I had way less professional experience but interviewed in person, I usually got the job.
That’s not to say my energy is undeniable, but… kind of?
In person, I think it’s easier to see I’m friendly and fun in addition to being a decent writer and a fast learner and a hard worker. So maybe I just need to get out there and make the most of something else my mother passed on to me: a very employable face.
In her early twenties, my mother was a tour guide at Disneyland—a job that requires excessive personability, charisma, and calm under pressure. She had it all in spades.
These are the same traits that later made her the best administrative assistant to greet clients at a front desk and, even later, the best executive assistant to handle temperamental members of the C-suite.
So I give up: I’m officially becoming my mother. I don’t have her job yet, but I have another feeling the universe will make it so.
I’ll apply to the job at the law office and others like it, and I’ll also print out a generic version of my résumé and cover letter and start knocking on doors to see who needs someone like me.
I hope to find a role that utilizes my writing skills, but if I don’t, that’s okay. I’ll continue to write this newsletter and send pitches and dream of writing a book. I have an even more interesting idea for how to repurpose the pitch that got crushed by Condé Nast. To be continued.
As always, thank you to everyone who supports Rollercoaster Road emotionally, spiritually, and monetarily. Now more than ever, it means so much to make a little money from my writing.
AI and corporations can annihilate writers’ jobs, but they can’t crush our spirits as long as we still have human emotions to overshare, functioning keyboards, and the will to keep tapping away at them.
If you enjoy reading Rollercoaster Road, please help it grow by liking, sharing, or leaving a comment. Thanks for joining me on the ride.
As I transition from my current job, I am also reimagining the next thing. I would really like to find a way to “do good” in the world. But that might not pay well and there are still kids in this life bubble of mine. 😂