I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.
—Flannery O’Connor
My career meandered hither and yon throughout my Grasshopper life, untroubled with the planning or forethought that went into the careers—and healthier pension packages—of my Ant friends. My English/Creative Writing undergrad degree was purely for kicks, and the MA in journalism was to give me both an excuse to move to the Twin Cities and a leg up in the vocation I thought I wanted: theatre criticism. But a paid internship morphed into a lifetime of magazine editing, the jobs appearing and evaporating in rapid succession. I lost my first grown-up editing job seven months after my hire date—the magazine folded—and that pretty much set the tone for the next quarter century as I edited magazines about homebuilding, early digital games, adoptive parents, respiratory therapy, and visual and performing arts. Everything worked out in the wash somehow, and I appreciate the life lessons that came with my here-today-gone-tomorrow employment “strategy”: I didn’t over-identify my self-worth with any specific job, and I didn’t freak out when I lost one.
But there was one job I really, really wanted. It was with a large, renowned science museum in the downtown area of a bustling, architecturally interesting city not far from the Mississippi. I set my sights on it early, not long after losing that first gig. I requested and was awarded an “informational interview” with a lovely man who’s still a friend. I followed up with occasional notes. When an opening came—as director of publications—I pounced. I was a finalist, almost certainly because of the prior meet-up, but did not get the job, hardly surprising given my lack of experience.
But the woman they hired then immediately hired me as her “managing editor,” the next rung down. And not long after, she left for another career. I applied again and won the post.
As with every hire in the history of hiring, a lot of factors beyond my control went into my getting that job. But if I hadn’t taken a few steps that were in my control, I wouldn’t have gotten it. Among my tactics were the thank-you letters I wrote. I thanked Paul for the informational interview, I thanked him again after the job interview that came along later, and I thanked him again when he took a chance on me for the top job.
The Internet has changed how we do a lot of things, but it hasn’t changed this reality: if you want the job, writing letter(s) can help you get it. What types, and when? Some answers to this question depend on the circumstances, but one answer is easy: Thank you letters, and always. If you get as far as an interview, send a thank-you letter afterwards. It’s the easiest thing you can do to improve your chances of getting the job.
A majority of job-hunters—somewhere between two-thirds (according to a 2018 study by iCIMS, Inc., a cloud-based human resources and recruiting software company) and a whopping three-quarters (according to an undated CareerBuilder study)—don’t do this simple thing. And a large majority of hirers (again, the stats vary from article to article, but one puts it at 80 percent) say they are favorably impressed with candidates who send thank-you letters. Which means that right off the bat you will stand out when you are one of the few who do it.
It’s easy and it doesn’t have to take long. In fact, it shouldn’t take long—you should get it in the mail within 24 hours of your interview date. You can type it or write it by hand. Although some sources claim you can send your thank-you note via email, I suggest that you make it a letter, the kind that you mail through the U.S. Postal Service.
Your letter needn’t be long. In fact, again, it shouldn’t be long—less than four paragraphs, according to Business News Daily. You don’t want to reiterate your resume or any of the boring stuff you had to pretend to care about in the interview, like why your lone weakness and your greatest strength translate into why you are the best for the job. You can write something that reflects who you are.
First, the salutation. I find advice both for and against use of the formal (Dear Ms. H.R. Hotdog) vs. the informal she insisted you use in the interview (Dear Hilly), so my vote is to go with the formal unless the vibe you got from the interview bids you otherwise. I personally preferred the informal during the (blessedly brief) period when I hired people, but I wouldn’t have been the tiniest bit offended if they went with the formal. In fact, I was impressed when they did, including the woman who was already an acquaintance and became a friend.
Once you’ve got that out of the way you can get a little creative. Thank her for inviting you and remind her that you’re interested. And then say something specific and distinctly yours. Perhaps you can highlight something said in the interview: “I was especially interested to hear your comments about your evolving print needs, given the extensive revisions I made last year in my employer’s style sheet.” This will not only give you a further leg up, but it will remind the poor woman which candidate you are among the five or seven or 12 interviews she had to slog through in three-and-a-half lunchless days.
In the above-cited article, one businessman recounted mentioning his home town during the course of the interview. The job seeker’s thank-you letter referenced the town and said his brother was going to drive through and that he’d told him to pick up a cake from the local bakery there. The businessman was impressed with the candidate’s listening skills and his willingness to do extra research. He added, “It left me with a pretty good taste in my mouth (pun intended).”
The article advises that you close with another quick thank-you and bow out fast with “Best” or “Sincerely.” Don’t provide links or attachments. Don’t request anything of the interviewer. Make it easy as pie.
If you’re writing by hand, sign it by hand. If you’re typing it, you can type your signature or sign it by hand.
I shouldn’t have to point this out, but I will: triple check for typos and grammatical errors.
Lagniappe: Do good by helping me do good. Vote for your favorite among the five charities I’ve listed here. Just reply to me or put a comment in the box below by Tuesday, March 21, and I will donate $25 to the one that receives the most votes.
Thank you, Michael, and thanks for the vote! I believe that at last count you've pushed Reading into first place. Which will win the coveted 25 bucks? The excitement is growing. 🤭
Lovely essay! I agree to the efficacy of thank you notes, I just wish I was more faithful about writing them.
I vote for Reading is Fundamental