I can barely even read through stories like this any more. But this story is a fairly dead-on portrayal of the Sisyphean task of hunting for journalism jobs today. Especially with lines such as:
Apparently, even a canned response was impossible in New York.
I usually describe the process as a perpetual cycle of screaming into the void, especially back in yonder ancient days when you could spend hours a day assembling packets of clips (and resumes, and cover letters, and clip descriptions, and printed-out versions of online content) and dropping them into a mailbox, releasing the package to some terrible in-pile purgatory or waste bin damnation, maybe never even given the humble nobility of having a pen knife slid across the glue seal to release some of the pressurized optimism stuffed inside. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad, but I would have no way of knowing otherwise.
If science (once it’s done fighting the moon over there so we don’t have to fight it here) ever explores the outer reaches of the galaxy, I would not be surprised to hear a report one day of the mysterious texture of some extra-solar planet, with jagged rock formations and sloping dusty mountainsides, barren save for a small, slowly growing pile of 11×17 manilla envelopes seemingly expelled from the sky above and left there unmolested, their glue seals and optimism still firmly in place.
And this is one of the better ideas I’ve heard in a while:
Katie launched into “Nowhere Man,” then “In My Life,” the sax’s mournful wail ringing through the tunnels in the Times Square subway station on a Friday afternoon. Her sign read: “Don’t Give Money, Give Business Cards.”
(NYT) SEVENTEEN months out of Rutgers University, they live in an unwelcome continuum of mass rejection. Between them, Kristy and Katie Barry, identical twins who grew up in Ohio, have applied for some 150 jobs: a magazine for diabetics, a Web site about board games and a commercial for green tea-flavored gum; fact-checking at Scholastic Books, copy editing for the celebrity baby section ofPeople.com, road-tripping for College Sports Television.
They did not get any of these. More than a year has lapsed without so much as an interview. Apparently, even a canned response was impossible in New York.
“I wake up hopeful and check my e-mail and then all there is is the Merriam-Webster word of the day,” Katie lamented. “Or a stupid Facebook thing. So-and-so sent you a puppy. Or a drink. Great!”
Is a profile in the Times a fast-track to getting employment? Daily Intel is following.