My Best Advice for Writing Cover Letters, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Letter

No Party Here

I can't tell you how many cover letters I've written in my life.  Probably enough to get an entire town's worth of people a job or a fellowship or a grant.  It's not exactly against the Geneva Convention to write your own cover letter: it's not torture so much as torturous.  Nevertheless, it ain't fun. 

And it requires you to be a psychic.  You have to -- or at least you feel as if you have to -- know exactly what your audience wants to hear from you and what tone they want to imagine you're saying it in.  Should you be specific?  (Answer: yes, but don't repeat details that are already in your resume.  Be specific about things that are between the lines of the resume.)  Is your tone too haughty or braggy?  (Answer: if you're a shy or unsure person, probably not, but if you're an ostentatious or aggressive person, probably.)  Should you stay conventional, or can you use bold, bullet points, or italics to highlight portions of the letter?  (Answer: depends on your industry, the organization you're applying to, and how you want to portray yourself.) 

And you could ask yourself questions like that over and over, pouring over each word as you go.  It can quickly become an exercise in masochism. 

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Letter

Writing cover letters for other folks -- especially when I've already written their resumes -- doesn't produce nearly the same amount of sweat for me as writing my own cover letters.  It's easy for me to compare their resumes to the descriptions of the jobs they're targeting (or ones similar to jobs they'd like to have) and find the stand-out connections between the two.  The cover letter then becomes a narrative of those connections.  I often have to ask for some elaboration on the resume so that I can avoid repeating the facts of the resume within the narrative of the letter.  For example, when I applied for assistant professorships around the U.S., I described my actual teaching practices using an example or two of the exercises I'd used in my composition classes.  I was specific and succinct about what happened in class and what the outcomes were, details that didn't belong on my CV but that revealed the significance of my list of "Courses Taught" there.  Those are the kinds of details that stand out in cover letters.

Recommendation letters can be a special source of concern for anyone who does any mentoring.  Just like with cover letters, you want to make sure that you're highlighting the most important achievements to make the best opportunities possible.  When I was the administrative intern and teaching mentor for the first-year writing program at the University of Kansas (lo these many years ago), I found myself writing dozens of recommendation letters for my undergraduate and graduate students.  It was a labor of love, and it gave me a sense of my own accomplishment to see how much my students had accomplished and what those accomplishments set them up to achieve in the future.

Then I had to start applying for my own jobs.  And writing my own cover letters.  Which were awful.  I'm sure that my dissertation director would say to this day that my first cover letter drafts were abominable, probably my worst writing ever.  They were too long, too specific, too emotive, too formulaic, and too long (they were really long).

Then one day, it hit me: I'm struggling to write because I think this letter is supposed to be the something like my professional manifesto.  It's not.  A cover letter isn't supposed to be my defense before the Inquisition.  It's a document that's supposed to clarify how Item A (my CV and professional history) aligns with Item B (the job description and institution that I'm applying to) in ways that could create Outcome A (the ideal situation in which I get the job, flourish in it, and my accomplishments become not just value-added but integral to the institution).  Because I put so much pressure on myself to get the letter "right," I struggled to write effectively.

So, as a rhetorician, I came up with a new strategy: I would write my cover letter as if I were writing a recommendation letter for someone else.

The Recommendation Strategy

I sat down to write a draft of my job cover letter as if I were writing a recommendation to the same job for one of my favorite mentees, Rachel, one of the kindest, most assertive, insightful young scholars I know.  She was the ideal subject because we were on much the same professional path, so as I explained how the items on my CV fit the job description, it wasn't hard for me to substitute "I" and "me" and "my" for "Rachel," and "she" and "her." 

Yes, this required some careful proofreading later, but it saved me hours of time and mountains of grief because it helped my letter-writing flow.  Instead of worrying about bragging too much or being too humble, I was able to write with confidence because I genuinely want good things for Rachel.  I want them for myself, too, but I found it more natural to sing Rachel's praises than to toot my own horn.  Granted, I wasn't actually doing that -- promoting Rachel -- but it helped me feel less timid and unsure about asserting that certain concrete experiences match up well with the demands of the job. 

So, my advice for writing cover letters is this: if you're struggling to get a draft down, don't write your letter for yourself.  Write it for someone else.  Pick someone you admire, like a colleague, a mentor, a mentee, a family member, or even a fictional character.  Use your resume and the details of your own experiences (of course, don't use their accomplishments instead of your own, and never ever embellish your experiences!) but write as if you're recommending the person you admire or want to see succeed instead of describing yourself.  Then go back and put your name in where the other person's name appears.  Finally, check it over: Is the letter accurate regarding your experiences and qualifications?  Does it sound appropriately commendatory?  Would you be willing to send it on that other person's behalf?  If so, you've probably got a great cover letter for yourself, and you've avoided testing the limits of the Geneva Convention!

Of course, there's another way to avoid the masochism of writing a cover letter: ask me to do it for you :) 

If you've got other strategies for writing cover letters, feel free to mention them in the comments below!

Client Successes: Students and the Theology of Writing (a Metaphor)

Last fall, I worked with two different high school students in two different states, Indiana and Texas.  The student in Indiana is a really talented writer and all-around smart kid (and for all my high-school aged female readers, he's also handsome: I once gave him my blessing to reschedule a tutoring session so he could go on a date!).  I was tutoring him through a revision of a paper he hadn't done so well on in the spring and on an upcoming research paper.  The student in Texas is coming to the end of her high school career; she needed some help with writing personal statements for her college application.  After we worked on strategies for writing the statements, I copyedited them for her before she turned them in with her applications.

I couldn't be happier with their results.

The mother of the Indiana student wrote to me a few weeks ago:

More good news regarding the paper you helped Jack with: he got a 98 on the paper and a 100 on the debate which was based on it! I am so proud of him and so grateful for your help.

I was one proud copyeditor!

And then the student from Texas just sent me an update last week about her college acceptances:

Hey!  I just wanted to tell you some good news :)  I got accepted to UT and A&M :DI'm waiting on two more, Trinity and Baylor.  Thank you so much for all your help!  I don't know what I would have done without you :D :D

What was the most important piece of advice that I gave to these two students and my other student clients as well as the scores of students I taught over ten years of teaching college students and serving as a university Director of Writing?

Know the god you have to please.  Find out what pleases that god.  Deliver what that god wants.

That's the theology of writing, really.  The student in Indiana thought (rather: was being taught) that he was supposed to be seeking the Truth about the perfect, Platonic form of Writing and then turning that in to his teacher.  The student in Texas thought the same thing at first: what is the Perfect Personal Statement, and how can I turn it in with my application materials?  But I was there to tell them that their theology had put the grail before the god: they were looking for the perfect writing but what they should have been seeking was to understand the god who sets the (somewhat arbitrary, somewhat social-objective) rules about what counts as "perfect" or "good."

For the student in Indiana, I helped him read the signs in what the teacher emphasized in the assignment prompt and lectures.  Those signs would help him make better guesses about what the teacher would judge his writing.  We also discussed the fact that this teacher doesn't have sole purchase on the gospel truth about writing.  There's only so much the teacher can reveal to any one practitioner of the religion of writing, and there are multiple ways of interpreting teachings that seem to some to be Eternal Truths (e.g., "Be concise," which neither Strunk nor White themselves were all that often).  Those interpretations will depend on the writing situation itself and the proclivities of whatever teacher/god needs to be pleased in that writing situation.  Thus, switching teachers is like switching religions: what one teacher expects of "good" writing can be worlds away from what the next one does, so it's important to be able to read the writing on the wall and be able to adapt accordingly.

For the student in Texas, I emphasized pragmatism: searching for the Platonic ideal was stressing her out and causing writer's block.  We set up a systematic way of answering the questions in the personal statement, and she came up with what she felt called to say in response to the questions the gods of the admissions committees had set before her.  When she was able to balance their desires (to the extent that she and I could divine them) with her own truth and will to express herself, she wrote beautifully moving essays.

I know it's a struggle for pre-college students who're trying to figure out the Truth about writing, because the stakes are high.  Part of my job is to demystify the process, which actually leads to the Truth that's greater than the Mystery: ultimately, you gotta write to honor your own truth (which is why I can write "gotta" here), and with the right skills and willingness to humble yourself before the god you have to please, there's really no limit to what you can achieve with your writing.

Source: http://laughingsainteditorial.com/oratoria...

Client Interview: CN's Collected Short Fiction

I had the pleasure of working with CN in the summer and fall of 2015 on a collection of his short fiction.  I was already familiar with his work, so I knew that I should expect a series of challenging, engaging, sometimes mysterious, and often heart-shaking stories.  CN’s objective in working with me was to have an honest, rigorous editorial review of a few of the sections that he had divided his stories into within a larger collection.  We weren’t working on a specific deadline, so we spaced our conversations out over several months.  He’s continuing to work with the stories in the hopes of publishing some of them individually and, eventually, as a full collection in a book.  I sat down with him not long ago in one of our favorite watering holes to review our editorial process and how working with LSE was useful for him.

LSE: I’m so glad to have a chance to talk with you about our somewhat unusual editorial review process and what it was like to work with me as your editor.  You have some truly unusual stories.  How might you describe the genre of your project?

CN: It’s a collection of short stories with what I believe to be distinct themes. 

LSE: Tell me the story of your project.  Let’s start at the beginning.  What led you to this project?

CN: I’ve been writing for a while, but I went through a personal matter that I felt needed to be communicated, specifically to my sons.  My sons are in their twenties now, so the project began when they were young adults.  I knew they were amenable to listening to and reading stories, so I thought the story collection would be a safe way for me to maintain distance while still providing a lesson.  The stories were a means for channeling that information to them so it wouldn’t come across as dad simply lecturing them. 

LSE: At what point in working on the project did you decide that you wanted to consult an editor?

CN: I was already receiving feedback from [a writing group that I coordinate] and other writing groups where I regularly share my stories.  I had never really had in mind to market my stories, but I’d heard enough from other people who said, “Hey, you ought to think about getting these published.”

An editor is more than just another set of eyes.  You were an alien voice, which was useful since I was already getting feedback from familiar sources.  You had insight.  Your expertise is unambiguous.  And I enjoy ambiguity, as you know from working with my stories.  But in a way, I think that’s what my stories needed.  They needed a critical eye that would look not just at the story as a story. 

LSE: Where are you at with the project, currently?  What future plans do you have for it?

CN: There are still things left to be said to my sons, and I’m still looking for ways to say those things.  I think I’ve discovered which particular stories I want to keep working with to improve that communication. 

I’ve written enough stories now that they are showing different thematic connections, which is a positive that I didn’t initially realize.  You helped to reveal that, not so much by pointing out the connections but by prompting me to look for them.  You also helped immensely by encouraging me to think more carefully, closely about the characters and why they’re doing what they’re doing.  When I look back now, I ask myself similar questions about characters in stories you didn’t review. 

Now I’m hoping to develop those particular stories, and I envision developing them into a novel.  But certainly not a traditional novel.  It would have to be something unusual.

LSE: What are your hopes for the project?

CN: To have my sons read it finally.  Well, that’s not really true.  Maybe I’ve already used the word “legacy” as we’ve been talking.  If I haven’t, I should because that’s probably the right word.  And writers say that often enough, so it’s probably pretty trite, but I want the legacy I leave to my sons and other readers to be more permanent than it would be if I were just speaking the stories to them.  Writing goes beyond that.  People read stories to be able to talk about them with other people.  What you do with the story after you read it might have nothing to do with the story itself, but the story is a place to start. 

LSE: What was it that you felt you were struggling with and hoped that having an outside perspective would help you with?

CN: The order of the stories and the thematic sections I was breaking them into.  I write very traditional stories—especially my earlier stories—though now I’m trying to do something different with them.  In spite of the traditional form, I wanted to see if others would notice the more subtle subtexts, which aren’t always about very traditional themes.  I’m ok with it, either way.  I like story for story’s sake.  But I’m interested in those subtexts because that’s where readers get away from the story and start talking about the true magic of life.  So I’m always looking for that, from any reader.  It can be frustrating at times, not because readers didn’t get the subtext but because I couldn’t always strike the balance I wanted between making it clear enough and obscure enough.

LSE: What do you feel more confident about regarding your writing now that you’ve worked with a professional editor?

CN: I’ve always considered myself a risk-taker as a writer, but I’m much more of a risk-taker now because I know there are sharper minds out there that can figure out the hidden complexities of the seeming banalities that I might try to slip into stories.  I like to think that that’s what editors should provide for writers.  I used to have the notion that writers would cower from their editors, but it turns out that it really should be more of a collaborative process.

LSE: What advice do you have for other people who are writing short stories and who might have similar difficulties or concerns?

CN: They should read Infinite Jest, like you and I did last summer.  I suppose that I was fortunate to find an alien voice, so I would tell them to find an outside voice, a different perspective.  Don’t become provincial in your core group of readers or listeners or even friends.  As a writer, I hope to invite other ideas into my limited imagination.

Grammar Advice: Don't Date Anyone Who Gets Judgy about Your Grammar

As a copyeditor, I'm regularly the downer at the grammar-police party.  The first questions most people ask me when they find out I'm a copyeditor usually are some variation of "What's your pet peeve?" or "What's the worst thing that authors do that you have to correct?"

I can't just sigh and say "Misuses of the em dash" and move on.  Because I'm a professional corrector, that's why.  No, I feel impelled to say something like this: "Well, what's 'wrong' to you might not be 'wrong' according to the AP Style Guide, and what's wrong according to one style guide is right to another, so I don't really get morally outraged about anything related to grammar.  It's all like bugs displayed on a wall to me.  I feel nothing about them, but they're interesting to study."

And normally the reply I get is something like: "Yeah, I really hate it when the kids these days don't spell out the whole word!"

Normally, I just go about my business, but I'm not just a professional copyeditor.  I'm also a former professor of rhetoric and composition, and my dissertation director is a well-known linguist/dialectologist.   I know better than to think that grammar is a set of right-or-wrong rules handed down by the Almighty.  I know that -- as with all rhetoric and writing -- context dictates everything.  So sometimes I get to use this blog to do my part to combat stupid notions about grammar, especially when I think an especially insipid idea is being used to be unduly mean.

So, not long ago, I was doing my morning routine, listening to the BBC's World Update, which played an interview with the owners of an "online dating concierge" business (I shall not name them because I wish to give them no further press than they've already got).  The business helps their clients to formulate "grammatically correct" online dating profiles, and it helps them weed out the "good" matches from the "bad" ones based in part on whether the match uses "good" grammar or not.  One of the business owners says that the business hopes to "promote meaningful conversations where people are held accountable for their grammar."

Hold the phone.  Because the number of flawed premises upon which this entire business concept is based is staggering, and we need to talk about it.

First, they've misunderstood what "grammar" refers to.  What they're really talking about is "usage" and rules, which describe what's "acceptable" (often thought of as "correct") and "unacceptable" ("wrong") in any given context.  Grammar, properly speaking, has to do with whether the language being used follows the semantic formula allowed for within the language system.  Grammar is what's used to explain why *I the books to class take sounds strange to native English speakers.  It's much closer to math than it is to art, really, and it involves a pretty specialized jargon, just like higher-level math does (I dare anyone at said "online dating concierge" to explain the differences between cognitive and functional grammar, for example).

Second, they've failed to realize that grammar and usage are both dictated by context.  When is "Y'all" grammatically correct?  When you're in my grandmother's house in the Ozarks.  When is it acceptable not to spell out words?  In text messages.  It's not written in the Bible that comma splices are an abomination in the eyes of the Lord; neither are the chosen people marked by their proper use of the subjunctive or their abjuration of the overuse of gerunds.  When we start equating language use with correctness, we're really just playing as pawns in a power game that's been going on since people who weren't part of the aristocracy became literate.  All the sudden, the unwashed masses were using the written word, and just doing whatever they pleased with it!  Rules became a way of imposing the thin green line between the classes (e.g., if you had formal education and were possessed of a refined mind, you would know and be able to use the subjunctive conjugation of "to be" and the proper use of "whom").  But the problem with this approach is that someone has to set the standards, and there are simply too many users of language in too many specific contexts for there to be just one right way of using the language.  We are Babel, and that's ok.

So, that diversity of perfectly-legitimate-albeit-not-"approved" way of using language should be something we're all kind of ok with if we don't want that same standard applied to us.  The young man quoted above, who's one of the execs at this "online dating concierge," misuses "where," for example (he should have said "in which," because a conversation isn't a place).  The young woman who was interviewed alongside the young man, as another exec in the company, talks with an upspeak inflection (e.g., this is when everything sounds like a question? and the end the sentence goes up in pitch? you know?) so unpleasant that I nearly turned off the radio. 

But here's the point: I don't judge either of them, as people, based on their use of language.  I wouldn't automatically set them aside as potential dating partners because of my perceptions of their language "correctness," nor would I go around encouraging others to condemn them, and I especially would not be profiting off of others' stereotyping and condemnations.  I'd rather encourage the clients of an "online dating concierge" to ask themselves what they think "correct" language usage is a marker of, whether it's really a marker of that, why they care about that (whatever it is; I'm guessing education, which is really a way of saying "money and socio-economic background, and maybe also race") so much, and whether that's what really matters when it comes to finding someone you want to trust your life and heart to.

Call me old-fashioned, I guess.  But my advice is not to bring anyone home to your mother if that person is going to judge you for misusing "whom."

Religious Studies and Copyediting: a Match Made in Heaven for Some Strange Reason That Has Yet to Be Explained

When I first decided to go into full-time freelancing, my freelancing mentor -- the intrepid and way-too-smart Dr. Greta Perel -- suggested that I start doing some informational interviews with other writing freelancers to find out about how I should be preparing and professionalizing myself in the transition from assistant professor to freelancer.

In addition to contacting people I knew and people whom I had some other kind of connection to (fellow university alumni, etc.), I started some light investigoogling (a phrase I picked up from my dear friend Nate McKee, Director of Learning Technologies at the University of Washington) of copyeditors whose work focused on the kind of work I wanted to specialize in: book-length manuscript copyediting, including academic books and dissertations.

Over and over, I kept seeing a qualification that these random freelance copyeditors whose (amazing well-developed) websites I was perusing had in common: a background in religious studies.

Many of them had undergraduate degrees in RS.  Some of them had graduate degrees, including PhDs and MDivs.  Part of why I found this so interesting is that I, too, have an undergraduate degree in RS.  In fact, I knew I wanted to be a theology major by the time I was a sophomore in high school.  Unfortunately, I also knew that I wanted to counter my small-town rearing by going to a gigantic state university and getting lost in the crowd.  I ended up in an RS major that was more sociology than theology, and while that was fine, it wasn't enough to keep my interest, so I added the English major and went to grad school to become a professor of rhetoric and writing studies rather than the Hebrew Bible (my first and true passion).

But how did so many of us RS majors end up on the same path, post-college?

The obvious answer: There just aren't a lot of tenure-track jobs in RS, and graduate programs that are likely to give you entree to such a job are really competitive.  (NB: Let's be honest about the fact that that's more or less how small humanities disciplines work when it comes to jobs.  School and, to a far lesser degree, program reputation are far more valuable than dissertation topic, publication record, and especially teaching achievements.)  So, we end up outside RS.  But why do we end up as freelancing copyeditors and not, say, ministers or social workers?

The market answer: Religious people read.  A lot.  And a variety.  There's no shortage of monthly devotionals or religious novels or group-study materials to be edited.  And if you're an editor at a religious publisher who has the choice between a copyeditor who has 10 years of experience in, say, business writing or a copyeditor with three years of experience and a background in religion, you might be more likely to go with the person who has a deeper familiarity with the material.

The skills answer: If there's one thing a background in religious studies can do, it's teach people how to read texts carefully.  This works on at least two levels that are relevant for copyediting. 

First, we're taught to read for meaning and significance.  If the verse is translated such that Jesus as "angered" rather than "indignant," how will that change the meaning of this passage?  In this regard, we're also excellent researchers.  If you've got a question about a religious text, trust me: at least fifty other scholars in that religion have also had that question, and they've each published articles if not books on it, so you better do your research before you declare that a text means what you say it will.

Second, we're taught to read for minute details.  The placement of a comma might make a world of difference for the meaning of a certain teaching.  If Jesus is said to have "wept" in one passage and also to have "cried" in another, is that a difference that matters, or is that just an example of synonyms?  These questions matter far more in religious explication than they do in, say, a resume I'm copyediting, but I've been trained to ask them, nonetheless.

The probably-true-but-don't-bank-on-it answer: We're honest and diligent workers, fearful of being caught as sinners in the hands of an angry G-d.

Ultimately, I'm not sure why so many of us RS-minded folks are interested in freelance copyediting.  When I was an undergraduate, I was in an RS class in which everyone had to have their term papers workshopped by the rest of the class.  My paper was about Chaucer and Paul Tillich's notion of "ultimate concern."  The professor of the class -- whom I couldn't stand -- introduced my paper by saying, "All you people with literature-and-religion papers should start a club.  You're everywhere." 

LOL sry bro.