But I’ve kept the doors open, of course. In the first part of the year, I did a lot of on-site work, for clients with whom I had pre-existing relationships, and managed to cook up a few gigs on my own (outside of any placement firms, and thus with a higher rate), which was nice. For a while there in April-July it was one right into the next, and I was very busy and very well-paid. I was hoping that somewhere a full-time role, or long-term freelance gig, would emerge, but alas, it didn’t.

I would continue to apply for the occasional job is something came up. Preferring, of course, to take an inside track with the recommendation of a friend, I haven’t entirely ceased being a job-hunter. Recently, I applied for a role at a major public institution here in the City. I don’t want to say, exactly, but it’s a publicly-funded academic institution, rather than a corporate in-house group or an agency. Aside from the universities, I haven’t worked at an institution like this, but because of the reputation of this organisation, I think the opportunity would be great.

Honestly, the details aren’t important. The interview went very well, and I presented myself as capable, full of ideas, organised, knowledgable, and in all other ways, an awesome candidate. But I called today to follow up, to see if there is a chance for a second interview. Was told that the job is in a “holding pattern” due to the HR person getting tied up with other things. What a bunch of shit!

I cannot express my frustration in interviewing, genuinely enjoying the prospects, and then being told the hiring process has frozen. It shows deep and severe problems within the organisation that they can’t follow through with a hire, especially when the role is supposedly vacant! (I say supposedly because I wonder how a group can function with an empty desk in a critical operational and managerial role.) The worst part is that there is nothing I can do. Yes, I can call again in a few weeks time if I don’t hear from them, but there’s no way I can force them to hire or even to conduct the second interviews.

There is one potential weapon I can use. The Squeeze Play. Made famous by that episode of the Honeymooners, if I have another job offer standing, I can perhaps incite some action on the part of this organisation to interview-and-hire me or risk losing me. Turns out I have a second interview coming up tomorrow.

This job is much less glamourous, but is also an in-house role. It’s at a large, well-established non-profit that ultimately is in the health care industry. My role would be within the HR department, responsible for the recruiting and retention propaganda. It’s a funny situation because they’ve got me in the healthcare industry, wrapped in the HR industry. I, however, am of the design industry, and I always will be. This is a potential source of dissidence, but we’ll take it as it comes.

I’m actually a little surprised that I got a second interview, considering I didn’t exactly play nice on the first interview. I presented myself — accurately — as a rebel. My ideas are there to change things, not to maintain the status quo, especially when the status quo is last century’s corporate crap. It was also very tedious to interview with the head of HR, who’s entire profession is interviewing people. She’s an ace at dodging questions and at posing really bizarre questions to me. She also critiqued my portfolio closer than even some of the more seasoned design pros I’ve chatted with. It was a bizarre experience, but apparently I made it through. We still haven’t talked about salary yet, so who knows what that will bring.

It was a _VERY_ tough decision, but ultimately we’ve decided to go with another candidate.

Unfortunately, due the high volume of resumes/portfolios that have been submitted for this position (300 and counting) I have been unable to respond to each candidate individually. However, because of your specific interest in the [organization] (and your great portfolio) I just wanted to drop you a quick thank you note.

Good luck with your design career (I’m sure you will find something very soon!)

Best,

Strangely, this doesn’t make me feel bad. It was a very human thing to do. And while this job will be filed on the ash-heap of history, I’ll remember that dude’s name, fondly.

Like many job-seekers, I apply to a lot of jobs. Firms I’ve never heard of, descriptions that aren’t well-written, even the occasional anonymous post. This was an in-house posting at an lighting fixture company. I’d never heard of them, of course, but I’m not really up on lighting fixtures, so whatever. I figured what the heck.

Got a call back a few days later having completely forgotten that I even applied. Being polite, I agreed to come in, but why, I dunno.

Even before I set foot in the place, I knew it wasn’t the job for me. First, it was located out of town, in an industrial estate of former glory. Still accessible by mass transit, and technically part of the City, but culturally, a world away. The commute was nearly 1.5 hours each way, and the neighborhood had me looking over my shoulder, even in the middle of a sunny working day. The role was typical in-house — make a bunch of stuff, don’t say anything about it, don’t expect any praise or glory. But I went just the same.

My interview set a new high for red flags. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. I set a new high for yellow flags, but outshining the previous record by a serious degree. Ready for some whining?

The place was a warehouse. Windowless, except for outer offices, outfitted with Reagan-era metal desks and Soviet-style paint-and-carpeting schemes. Conference rooms were kitted with the cheapest in Office Max furniture and there was really nothing impressive to be gleamed.

The Creative Director seemed a nice enough fella, probably 8 or so years my senior. But he talked with an out-of-town air. I imagine he’s from the suburbs and shoots in for this job, and then home. What’s most odd about our conversation is that he tried to convince me to take the job, but in the same breath remarked on how shabby the company and workload can be.

“We used to have a really nice studio on the third floor. That was before all the downsizing.”

“Some other places are still on G4s.” (They were using G5s — a mere 5 years out of date)

“A lot of the work is dull, but it’s also creative.”

“I need a new right hand, my other guy got a better job.”

“We offer medical and dental.” (ok, this one isn’t so bad, but expected for most true staff roles.)

The whole thing was funny in that he never said plainly where the challenge lay. My assumption of the role is that it’s mainly a production role, responsible for “churning out” a ton of graphical brickerbrack, without any thought or synthesis. Not the role I’m after.

I don’t often get into salary talk in a first interview, but here we were. He asked me what kind of salary I’m looking for and honestly I replied. “I’ve typically been looking for Art Director or Senior Designer roles, with challenges and salary to match. $70k.” They were offering $40k. Not that money is the deciding factor, but clearly we are way out of sync. For them to be asking for so many skills — web design, print production, retouching, layout, project management, ability to take over projects and “be creative” — and only offering 40 shows how out of touch they are with the industry. For a company that size, an extra 5-6k wouldn’t matter much, but yet would send a huge signal. Here, they’re basically offering a suburban salary, but expecting big-city talent.

(Obviously 70 is my starting point and I’d go down a little bit, but countering it with a ballpark figure of 40 shows that we aren’t looking for the same things.)

There was no great ire between us, and for the sake of argument I was, in fact, offered the job, but I just cannot see myself working in a place where the most enticing aspect, according to my future boss, is simply “It’s a job. And in this economy, you’re lucky to have a job.”

(He actually used the phrase “in this economy…” several times.)

Here to remind you — and me — is the sort of job I’m looking for. A challenging design role at a design agency. It should be located in the City, and have other designers working above and to the sides of me. Subordinates are optional. In-house roles are on the table, so long as they are a true design department, and not just “the graphics boy”.

Is that so friggin’ difficult?

“Can you come in this afternoon?”

I had a dentist appointment, but I turned up without further ado at the end of the day. Met the dude who placed the ad, later met the President, and eventually the marketing and events people, with whom I’d be doing the majority of my day-to-day work. The whole thing was very strangely rushed. They didn’t really inspect my portfolio or have me talk through the projects I’ve worked on. We didn’t talk about my past jobs or my education. The conversation focused mainly on the duties of the job and whether or not I can do them. (Um, yes, in case you’re wondering).

All in all I think it went quite well. I’m supposed to hear by the end of the week but I’m optimistic.

This is a small art school who grants MFA degrees in a small number of disciplines. The really don’t have someone looking after internal branding, or operating at a professional level for graphics and communications. The job also involves maintaining the website, and hopefully adding some new features and tools as things go forward. Honestly, it seems like a cool role because it’s ripe with chaos, ready for some order to be implemented.

My concern at this point — aside from getting the offer, of course — is whether they realise how big the role is. They advertised it as a graphic designer/webmaster, but in my eyes it’s more of a design director, responsible for organising assets, overseeing projects, working with vendors, creating original art director and campaign ideas, maintaining/supporting the website, managing the visual brand identity of the school, and making sure everyone plays nice on their internal and external communication design pieces. It’s a lot to do. Currently, they have a graduate (and MFA, not exactly a designer) handling the duties part-time. And they want to offer $40,000 as a “starting” salary.

We didn’t talk about money in this first go, but it is on my mind. I wonder if they can afford the type of person they need. A big role requires a big talent, and the appropriate compensation. The institution boasts that they are a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. That’s never what a job-seeker wants to hear because it implies they are broke as shit. I’m expecting the worst. Low wages, no budget for projects, fighting to facilities and gear, no reimbursements for lectures/conferences, no magazines. That may sound little, but it adds up.

I don’t really have a point with this post, just reporting on a very quick interview which may prove to be nothing at all. Or it could become a thing. But what I really hope to avoid is some kind of half-thing that I’ll either have to walk away from, or ends up being crappy.

The year started with me working at a small financial services company in which I was made to wear a tie. I did a super-last-minute project with a large ad agency making more per hour than I have ever done, and I worked a part-time job for a famous illustrator, and another over the summer which kept me exhausted and somewhat rich, but led no where. I had interns working with me, trying to get some self-initiated projects off the ground, and later took on a number of projects myself, some of which are still underway.

Also, the same slog with job apps and interviews.

Here’s a look at the numbers.
Jobs applied to: 185
Interviews landed: 9 (including the one already scheduled for January 2011)
“Converted” interviews that led to a period of work: 2
Number of interviews attended from personal contacts or close recommendations, which unfortunately led to nothing: 2
Full-time jobs offered: 0
Number of times laid off: 2
Number of on-site gigs that went nowhere: 8 (including the previous 2)
Number of on-site gigs arranged by placement/recruiting firms: 1
Number of full-time interviews arranged by placement/recruiting firms: 0
Conferences Attended: 3

The thing to highlight in 2010 is the number of times I’ve been laid off. On two separate occasions I was in a role that was freelance-to-perm, but after a few months it led to nothing. On the first occasion, the entire company folded, and I was actually one of the middle people to be let go. It was a lame job anyway, but I would have gladly collected a paycheck as an in-house designer there. The second hurt a little more because it was a large company with a constant workflow. This too was a freelance-to-perm job but only started as part-time, working three days a week. The position was eliminated after a corporate shake-up (following the new Executive Director arriving in July), but I have my suspicions that it was a tidy excuse to get rid of me personally, and possibly replace me with someone who is a better fit down the line. Perhaps that’s just my paranoia. The result of these layoffs is that it exhausted me. Not just the day-to-day exhaustion that you can sleep off or revive from with coffee, this is the deeper stuff that sucks your energy for months at a time. I know I shouldn’t but I sometimes lead with “I’ve been laid off twice this year” in conversations. It’s on my mind. I hope in 2011 I can make the interviews stick, no matter how few and far between they may be.

The most shocking number to the average reader would be the low interview rate from jobs applied. It ends up being about 4.5%. Depending on who you are, this might actually seem high, but there are some lurking variables in there. For one, I only apply to job postings that list the name of the company. There are maybe two anonymous companies in there, but generally I don’t do it. I also don’t look on Craig’s List for anything, just Coroflot and AIGA, and occasionally Media Bistro or some of the other sites.

My job application style has changes a bit over the years. In the past, I would construct long, elaborate intro letters citing my interest in the company and years of [relevant] experience. These days it’s a much more succinct form letter which includes the position title, the website referring it, the company name (just so I don’t confuse myself), and some links to my portfolio, blog, twitter, and side project blog. There’s a quick note about my attached resume and portfolio, and then a quick adieu. It’s very short. But I haven’t noticed a terrible drop-off in response rates; in fact, it’s the same. So I’d say this new method saves me time and energy, but with the same results, and thus it’s an improvement.

Word on the street is that no one reads them anyway. An assistant or junior member of staff will give it the slightest glance and then head to the resume and portfolio. Only if those materials are compelling are you passed on to the actual decision-maker. So all that prose is wasted on deaf ears.

I have resolved that over the next six months, leading up to my 30th birthday, I will transition my energy and efforts to building my own [one-man] business, and spend less time looking for traditional employment. This is, of course, a huge decision, and one that shocks the very essence of my being. This isn’t a day-to-day decision, competing with the mundanity of whether I should wear a hoodie or a hat, but is a deep and far-reaching life choice more akin to whether or not I should attend university, or whether I should move to a new city.

As you have witnessed, my job search has yet to produce fruit. And while the efforts on my part have varied greatly depending on what short-term freelance and at-home independent work comes my way. But the root of this choice lays in the previous sentence you have just read — the variety and inconsistency of my not-chosen lifestyle has exhausted me. I simply can’t keep dividing my energies between a job search, freelance work, and building a business. Something’s gotta give.

This summer, I found myself in a role which was three days a week, but consistently. I ended up getting laid off because the role was eliminated, but it did stretch on for four months. The problem, though, was that I never got into a rhythm the entire time I was there. In fact, the stop-and-go nature of my schedule kept me exhausted throughout — even on the off days.

Sounds good, right? Work for myself. Lots of people do it. Build momentum, do some small projects, do some bigger projects, hire staff, live the life. In time, dear friends. But in the meantime, my practical side is rather worried. Even by the most modest of calculations, I need to pull down about $2500/month (just to earn the shabby salary of $30,000/year). I dunno about you, dear reader, but I haven’t yet reached the point where I can count on a multi-thousand dollar income every month.

Like all business-savvy designs of the 21st century, I’m going to try and diversify by adding some non-client work. Y’know the sort, offering downloads like wallpapers, selling fonts, printing posters, making frames (maybe?), writing an e-book, making one-off t-shirts and selling them on etsy, and so on and so on. That shit takes a lot of time, but perhaps with the job search out of my mind, I’ll be able to knuckle down and get some shit done.

This blog isn’t going to end overnight. I’m hoping I can still stir up a little action and some potential job leads (such as the networking thing I wrote about last week) and see if a full-time job happens to drop from the sky. So in conclusion, stay tuned for some wacky stuff that isn’t, necessarily, job-search related.

Back in July 2008, I applied for a role at a well-known multinational luxury goods and fashion company. This was for the in-house design group which oversaw several fragrance and cosmetics brands. I interviewed with the Art Director and we seemed to have a good rapport. She really liked me, but unfortunately, the job never happened. Not sure why.

Several months — maybe even a year — after that initial interview, the same AD calls me to see if I’m still available. We chatted, and in a few days I was in to meet her boss, who would ultimately be the one to hire me. Again, the job didn’t happen. I don’t think I failed the audition, per se, but for one reason or another, it didn’t happen.

Cut to this past summer when I run into the same AD at an industry event. I hadn’t seen her in a while but she recognised me and we chatted briefly. She had changed jobs, and I had just been laid off from a well-known competitor in that same fragrance and cosmetics sector. And then a few weeks ago, I bumped into her again at a conference.

And then the other day, I see a job ad from her new company. It sounded pretty much like her department, in fact, so I began to scheme. Since I had, in truth, suffered a very busy November, I wrote to her with no mention of the job. “We should try to grab a coffee” I wrote. Her reply, in short, “do you want a job?” She emphasised that she has approval to hire, and that the decision, it seems, will be hers.

I’m going in tomorrow for a chat. It’s going to be just a casual chat, not a full-on interview. Which is nice. We’ll see how it goes. Best case scenario, the job is awesome and with excellent pay/benefits, and she offers it to me under my own conditions. Worst case, the job is a crappy, suffocating, in-house role, with shit pay and weird terms (such as three days a week to start).

Chances are we’re somewhere in the middle. The role probably won’t be a dream job, but more likely a solid, stable, in-house designer. Not sure of the “rank”, which would determine the pay, but established companies like that are usually pretty generous, and have nice perks like gym memberships and shit. As for terms, I’m hoping it’s a smooth entry — 2 weeks notice and paperwork that appears with little drama.

I’m neither nervous nor excited, perhaps because I have another delivery staring me down for tomorrow. Even if this doesn’t turn into a dream job, it’s a pretty cromulent example of how networking works, even in this crazy era where everyone changes jobs.

This has, of course, happened to me many times before. I go eagerly into a good agency on a freelance assignment, hoping that it will turn into a long-term or permalance scenario ultimately becoming a staff role. But the freelance gig ends. They don’t need me. Or maybe they don’t need me. I honestly have no way to telling, so I can’t get too upset.

Two odd things were observed when I was there. As a big agency, they always had something going on. Internal, pitches, client work, emergency fill-ins, etc. Hands are needed. And that’s what I did, lent a hand. But at the same time, changing projects is a hassle, and loads of paperwork was involved requiring me to get approval from several people before I can log some hours on those projects. To be expected, I suppose, when working with a big company, but I feel like I could have proved my helpfulness much sooner if I were able to bounce around unrestricted, like some sort of white blood cell fighting the various diseases.

Second, I was a little surprised at the shabby setup for their core “studio” designers. I, in particular, was set up at the studio scanning station, where a large scanner and specialty inkjet printer occupied the majority of space on the desk. Actually, it wasn’t even a full desk, as the scanning station was, strictly speaking, part of the designer-next-to-me’s workstation. The desks in the studio were actually two not connected desks — one long, one short — forming some kind of corner. But since the desks aren’t intended to join, designers can sit in the corner making use of the desk space. It’s hard to describe, but the general appearance is a bit odd. Other parts of the agency feature very slick built-in desks. Not quite cubicles, but permanent workstations. Our studio, on the other hand, seemed hastily assembled and intended for quick reshuffles. Supplies were in short supply and staffers were often unaware as to the location, quantity, or specifics of a certain supply — such as specialty paper or ink refills. What the hell?

There was something else to note, that sort of combines these two observations. An empty desk was left empty in the studio. No computer, no scanner, just an empty desk. Why wasn’t I set up there? Why wasn’t the scanner set up there? Why didn’t one of the other staffers, always short on desktop real estate, grab that up? My guess is that a big agency simply doesn’t have the systems in place where folks can “do for self”, but something tells me they have plenty of scolding policies in place if a designer were to grab without asking.

Architectural limitations aside, I tried my best to understand the staffing needs, and how I might play into it all. Apparently, one of their designers had just left. Most of her projects were internal, and that initial workload fell to me. Not sure if it was enough of a workload to constitute a full-time or permalance hire, but they were one staffer down, apparently. A second designer had announced that she too would be leaving, heading to the London office of the same agency. That would, of course, leave a gap in their staff, and potentially the need to hire. Will they be calling me? I can’t tell.

All in all, I’m glad I got the chance to work there, but I’ll be very thoroughly upset if they never call again. I will do my best to stay in touch with the recruiter and the creative director, but if they continually say “thanks but no thanks”, it will be safe to assume I’ve blown my chance, and failed my short live audition.

What’s sort of strange is that they didn’t even want to meet me first. Due to the fact that I am already working on-site this week, I couldn’t appear immediately for an in-person interview. Turns out the Sr. Creative Director already saw my work online and they figured ‘screw it’ and just asked me to start Monday. So off I go.

Rate isn’t bad either. Actually, rather good.

Not sure what account I’ll be on, or how long it will go, but I’m excited. It’s a large company with great resources and a very public portfolio. I’ve been to their offices before, for an interview, actually, but with any luck I can settle in a bit. Since my contact asked me about expected full-time salary, I imagine they are, at some point, looking for long-term recruitment. But let’s not jinx it.

I’ll report when I can.

Last week’s interview was an in-house role for a well-known luggage and leather goods company. It’s sort of an upscale brand — I don’t own any of their stuff — but well respected. The brand is treated more like a fashion brand than a hard goods company. The job was listed as “production graphic designer”, but in talking with the other two people in the design group, it seems it’s a standard designer job. Obviously, production is part of the job, but they just wanted to make sure they don’t attract another diva art director like the guy who apparently used to work in that spot.

This was a funny interview in that I did a helluva lot of listening, and very little talking. I mean, I could barely get in a word edgewise. How am I suppose to talk up my skills and experience if they’re not even asking me questions?

All in all I think I did well. I imparted to them that I have a high degree of operational excellence, experience with the brand through my previous agency work, passion for the industry, a sense of humour and style, some international exposure, and the ability to work in a team. In fact, for most of those points I said it outright while marking each point on my fingers. I also emphasised that I know branding!

But if the last interview is any indicator, I have no bloody idea.

They’re supposed to let me know this week about second interviews or what, but I have the feeling that this week, which looks onto a three-day weekend, will be something less than organised. Still making it up as a go along. FML.