To Whom It May Concern:
I’m sure the job listing for “reporter” unleashed a torrent of applications from distinguished, willowy English majors. I imagine you staring at a mountain of resumes from better-qualified applicants. It’s late and you’re tired because although you successfully beat “that 2:30 feeling” your last 5-Hour-Energy is powerless against that “I’m totally missing Dexter for this” feeling. I understand. I don’t want to waste your time. No fancy cover letter here. No custom-bound clips or professionally designed resume.
I may not have the same credentials as the veteran reporters who presumably responded by the bakers-dozen but I have plenty to offer your small-town rag. I’m social-media savvy; I never post a tweet before it has been rewritten at least three times to ensure maximum wit and brevity. My biggest flaw is that I love writing too much. I have my finger on the weak, irregular pulse of American popular culture. At school they called me the grammar nazi (I was vying for something a little less despotic but apparently “Master Chief of Morphology” doesn’t “roll of the tongue”). I know how to quickly replace common adjectives with more complicated-sounding ones in Microsoft Office. I beat a severe hepatitis C infection through a series of guided Peginterferon alfa-2a therapy treatments in 1999. I am presently thetan-free.
Take a look at my resume and contact me if you think I would be a good fit. I would like to write for you. More importantly, I would like to learn from you.
Best,
Andrew P. Pledger
