Over the last 6 months I have applied for a lot of jobs. And I mean a lot.
And in each instance, (if the companies have replied at all,) they have come back with the same bleak response.
You didn’t get the gig.
Of course, this unwanted pronouncement is served up in a number of equally unedifying formats.
The anodyne “We regret to inform you that we won’t be taking your application any further.”
The clumsily-phrased “we had many excellent applications. Unfortunately, yours was not one of them.”
The always-intriguing “we’ve decided to proceed with a candidate whose skillsets are more closely aligned with our values and culture.”
The frustrating “we’ve decided to promote from within.”
The ego-crushing “we are continuing our search for a suitable candidate.”
And the always popular no response at all.
Now not getting the job is fine. Shit happens. But here’s my beef.
In my application you asked me for every tiny detail of my employment history, right down to that lemonade stand I had as a kid.
You asked me for my schooling all the way back to Kindy.
You asked me not just for samples of my work, but for samples relevant to your job requirements.
You asked me for references, my Facebook and Linkedin handles and a photo.
And you asked me to write a cover letter festooned with my accomplishments and examples of personal growth.
In short, you asked me to put in a great deal of time, thought and effort.
But then, when it’s your turn, suddenly all bets are off.
You get back to me (belatedly) with a ludicrously brief, poorly-worded letter, as light on feedback as it is on sympathy.
And it was while I was digesting the latest of these that it suddenly hit me. These organisations don’t know how to reject someone properly.
Rejection letters are, after all, an acquired skill, just like any other form of copywriting. And maybe they just don’t know how to write them.
But I do.
Because having been rejected over a hundred times, I am a frickin’ expert on the subject.
And so it is, that I come before you now in my current guise as a rejection letter specialist. (RLS)
All those toe-curling letters that you (or your bot) hate to write. I’ll do them.
I’ll inform applicants gently and kindly that they didn’t get the job. I’ll give them thoughtful and useful feedback, insights from the employer’s perspective etc, and leave them feeling that although they weren’t successful in this instance, they are still are a big step closer to their goal.
Above all, I’ll endeavour to put a positive spin on a negative outcome.
Because trust me, it makes a big difference.
Of course, if you have any other writing work you need doing, then I will happily consider that as well. But from what I’m seeing out there at the moment, rejection letters would appear to be the next boom industry.
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