Does Location Really Matter?

Applying for jobs can be a huge drain on self confidence. After many, many applications that go nowhere, doubt creeps in. Is it me? Is my resume not good enough? Is there a typo in my cover letter? Is all of the experience I’ve accumulated just not enough for this position? Am I such a colossal screw up that no one wants to hire me for anything?

Or is it just that I’m not in the right location?

In the past couple of weeks, I have been applying to many jobs. Nearly all of which are out of state. I’m young, and while I am fond of my home state (North Carolina makes some pretty messed up decisions though), I want to experience something new. Something with fewer pine trees, maybe. Certainly less Cheerwine (I think I’m the only NC native that just can’t stand the taste). I want cities. I want history. I want change.

More importantly, the type of jobs I am looking for (assistant editor, copywriter, content creator, digital editor, really anything with words) are not found in great abundance here. There are a few positions in bigger cities, but certainly not any in my home town.  And most of those positions want 5+ years of editorial experience, which I don’t have (even if you count all those internships and jobs, I’ve only got about 3 years under my belt). So I’m looking far beyond these roads for my dream entry level position: in New York, in Washington DC, in Charleston. But I’m not hearing back. And I doubt myself.

It’s hard not to doubt your own abilities when you are sure you are a good fit for this position… and that position… and certainly this one here. (You say you want someone with some InDesign experience, who has knowledge of HTML and can write? Um, hello! Perfect candidate here!) Yet, even though I think I’m perfect, hardly of the HR departments agree with me. I lost a lot of drive for the job search with so many non-responses.

Then, I caught a post on Penguin Teen’s tumblr that said, “It can be difficult to get an interview if you don’t live within reasonable commuting distance to New York, yes.” Which is definitely disappointing, but not at all surprising. There are a multitude of reasons that companies don’t want people who live hundreds of miles away interviewing for their jobs. According to an about.com article on the how-to’s of long distance job searching, “Employers save on relocation costs and interview travel costs by hiring from their local area. ” And an advice article from LiveCareer.com outright states that “employers often hesitate to make offers to applicants if their acceptance will be contingent on a complicated relocation process.” Location definitely matters. According to Forbes.com, location might matter even more than degree in determining how much you get, and new companies are more likely to start in locations where there are already a lot of jobs. Which means: 1.) No innovative company is going to start up or relocate to a small town even though they have fewer taxes and less competition, and 2.) As an entry level candidate, I’m qualified, but I’m certainly not worth paying money to move to the company’s location – there are plenty of recent college graduates in the area, and it’s not that hard to train someone.

So what should a job applicant like myself do in this situation? Leave my address off of my resume? Move to an expensive city without a job and hope one comes? Explicitly state on my resume and in my cover letters that I will relocate at my own expense, and hope that companies don’t think I am desperate? Only apply to job openings in North Carolina?

I’m not sure. There is a lot of conflicting advice about what you should do if you are long-distance job searching. Penguin suggested internal referrers,  which is great if you know people in the field or have connections through alumni and friends. I don’t. And experience is great for showing that you would be valuable. But for entry level workers, it’s difficult because we don’t have to “real world” experience that companies would pay relocation fees for. But a lot of articles (like this one from Northwestern) seem to agree that you need to network (oh joy), state that you are willing to relocate, and really take the initiative in following up.

I guess that is the advice I will be following. Does that mean it actually was my resume this whole time?

The Ever Nerve-Racking Interview

Today I had a phone interview with a potential employer.

I had done the research. I looked into to the company, studied their products and social media accounts, figured out exactly what I would be doing and how it related to past positions I had held. I did my due diligence, something that was drilled into my head by numerous career counselors and websites telling me how to prepare for interviews. I can never say that I’m confident when I go into interviews – the only time I’m not nervous is when I genuinely don’t care about the position and wonder why I even bother – but I try to feel prepared.  It’s impossible to see into the future and know exactly what questions are headed my way, but I felt like I had the basics (strengths, weaknesses, “Tell me about yourself”) all down.

The interview did not go well. Or, at least, I don’t think it went well. Only the future will know if it did.  It is hard for me, and I assume it is the same for a lot of recent graduates and students, to tell how well an interview goes especially if it is over the phone. There have been times in the past when I know I’ve rocked an interview, when I know I’ve completely bombed. (An example that comes to mind? We finished our interview in 15 minutes with the vague “You’ll hear something soon” and I never heard back. We both were painfully aware that I was failing.) Selling myself over the phone is hard. I have experience, but how do I talk about it in a way that seems to be benefiting the company? Is it okay to just go on and on about one particular position? “Well, when I was the editor here, I did this.” “Oh, wow, you’ll never believe how I applied that same skill in that same job.” “Huh, remember that instance we already talked about? It can apply here, too! I promise!”

I felt like an idiot. A rambling, make no sense, idiot. After the fact, I did some research (read: Google searching) to determine what I did right, and what I did wrong. Why I didn’t do this earlier, or before any of the other phone interviews I’ve had, I’ll never know. And the research helped me figure out, pretty quickly, that no one actually knows to do for phone interviews. Because I did some stuff correctly… and colossally screwed up at times.

I followed up. But I didn’t use my name and the position I was applying for as the subject line (that’s a thing?). I also did a lot of internet digging to find their emails because I didn’t ask them for contact information. Not that I forgot, but the interviewer kind of told me to go through the HR person always (Good sign? Bad sign? I sure as hell don’t know). Whoops. I asked questions about the position and the qualities they are looking for in an employee. But I didn’t ask about a timeline for hearing back (I have to remember that on in the future). Luckily, I was told how the process would go from here on out, but it still feels like they were expecting it and I was just not giving the question they wanted. I’ve heard that I should stand up, walk around, dress for the part (even though no one can see me) and a lot more.

Well, it’s nice to know how I failed. And if I ever get an interview in the future (with the amount of applications I’m sending out, I’m both confident it will happen and sure it never will), at least I’ll know what to do.

Kind of.

Or not.

Any advice?