I don't start my new job until October 13, but I have already started writing press releases. Granted, these are press releases about the company's generous sponsorship towards my Peru trek -- so I have a vested interest -- but it's publicity all the same. It's lucky for them, really, they gave me the marketing job, otherwise I would still want to be writing my own press releases and confusing the hell out of everyone.
It's been a little frustrating, since the releases were mostly written over a week ago. The MD asked me to run them by the marketing manager for the company before anything got sent out, so I copied them both in -- along with my soon-to-be-boss, with a note to the MD to say that his quotes could be changed at his discretion. A couple of days later, the marketing manager called me -- we chatted about the releases and he suggested a couple of small style changes (the company should be referred to as a singular and not a plural, that kind of thing) but generally had no changes to make to the content. On Monday the MD stopped by my desk to give me his feedback, which again was just changing one or two words, and that was it.
Then he mentioned that the marketing manager was unexpectedly taking some time off for undisclosed personal reasons, and in the meantime to run all this sort of thing past someone else again. Fine, not a problem, I dutifully make the MD's changes and send them out again -- this time to the head of PR and marketing for the company.
At first I get a short email asking me to re-send the releases on the company template for press releases. This is the first I have heard of any such templates, in fact I am fairly sure I was told before that releases were just sent in the text of an email. I replied, explaining my position -- not yet in the new job, but already doing the work, but don't have access to things like templates. They were sent on to me without complaint, but the head of PR also took a look over the releases.
Either she is more fussy, or just paid more attention, since she almost completely rewrote the opening two paragraphs.
I wasn't overly taken with all the changes -- from training as a journalist I insist that the intro (the first paragraph) should be very short, like 10 words short and while giving a very brief snapshot of the story, as light on detail as it can be. I am in absolutely no position to argue or to complain. I was grateful to her for making it seem more exciting in a way, and have quietly tried to compromise on the opening paragraphs by cutting a few words and details out. Having resubmitted the releases to her today, changed and on the template, all she did was change the size of the title. So I guess I got there eventually.
Now, finally, I think they are good to go. The MD has approved his quotes, the head of marketing and PR has changed the title and sexed the opening paragraphs up a bit, so with the final nod I will distribute the two versions -- trade press and local media -- via email and a few clicks of the mouse. I'm torn whether to send them right away, or to wait until next week if I am going to be out of the office from Thursday to Monday, using up accrued holiday.
This is the sort of exciting life I lead.
Otherwise, things are pretty quiet -- the Peru sponsorship hasn't made any great leaps forward, but I am planning a fundraising quiz night locally, which should hopefully bring in a few quid towards the final total.
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
Important work news
OK. I promised the update about work. We saw how I interviewed for a bunch of positions, and naturally I was getting to the point where I was going to have to have a re-think. I was vaguely planning a mass mailing campaign, contacting all the PR agencies I had interviewed with in the past and liked, and also starting to target publishers as well as more specialised magazines.
It didn't come to that. My last hope was a job where I was already working -- not to do the crappy "purchasing" job I have been in since January, but a sideways move into a more marketing focused position. One random day, wheels were set into motion when a girl who was working in the marketing department told me and my colleagues she was pregnant. I remember the day very well, since I didn't know what to say to her -- instead I just told her "well done" which clearly isn't the right sentiment. "Congratulations" was what I meant, but one doesn't exactly mean the other. I also remember texting some friends about it, and mentioning to them how my first thought was "maybe I can have your job?".
Weeks turned into months, I kept half an eye on the company intranet for job postings, but kept looking for jobs in London. Then one day as expected the marketing job appeared, naturally I applied for it -- and mostly forgot about it from there. It seemed like forever before my application was acknowledged, and then only to say they would contact me about an interview soon. The girl said at the time the email was a good sign, they wanted to keep me keen while they were still sorting things out. Though I resorted to contacting HR a while later after no further indication of interviews had been had, the interview did indeed come.
I didn't tell my bosses the day I had the interview. I figured unless I needed time off, I didn't tell them about other interviews, and it just wasn't their business. The interview itself was pretty informal, but went on for over an hour -- I left feeling exhausted, but hopeful. I felt very well qualified for the position, and was encouraged by a lack of other candidates -- in fact, part way through the interview I had to try and stop myself from smiling too much, when I got the feeling that the job was mine.
I've learned not to trust that feeling, since I've had it in interviews at least twice before. A week passed after the interview and I began to lose hope, I told a friend on Thursday morning that I wasn't feeling optimistic, sure that I would have heard sooner if there was good news. That same afternoon I did get the news. The contact from HR stopped by my desk and asked if he could "borrow" me, which meant only one thing. I was taken to a conference room, where between them the HR guy and the marketing guy told me they were giving me the job.
It's a year's contract, starting in October -- it seems that despite them needing someone right away, and despite me not even being on a contract any more and only needing to give my temp agency a week's notice, somehow the "powers that be" wrangled that I should start the second week in October, so they can find someone to replace me. My job is by no means difficult, but it is going to take considerably longer than a couple of weeks to train someone how to do the various aspects of it.
Pretty much, it's all good news. The wages aren't spectacular, but very good for the location and the level of the job, the job is much more suited to what I enjoy and what I am good at, and with a little bit of work, the girl and I can now move into a rented place of our own.
It's not ideal for the girl, who still has to commute to London, but being the lovely, supportive girl she is she sees all the improvements it brings -- like better transport links, cheaper rent than London, a reasonable commuting time and a place where we can be together. Plus, in a year's time when the contract is either up for renewal or expiring, maybe then we can make it into London.
We celebrated the job on Friday night with steak and chicken fajitas and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne, that I was given when I left my first freelance job and had been saving for when I got a real job. Part of me thinks I am well overdue this -- I still think I should have been given the job after my PR internship, and still wish I had got the job in Brighton. But I was asked in my interview about mistakes I might have made in the past, and feeling philosophical I said sometimes with a bit of distance you can see how making a mistake lead to something important -- maybe you learn something, or maybe you find something out, or maybe it just leads you somewhere better. That's how I like to think of the jobs that never were -- not mistakes, but leading me somewhere...important.
I'm trading in my steel-toecapped boots that are required footwear in the bus depot itself which is part of the office where I work, in favour of a smart pair of Tom Wolfe shoes. I work in marketing & PR again now, and I intend to look the part.
It didn't come to that. My last hope was a job where I was already working -- not to do the crappy "purchasing" job I have been in since January, but a sideways move into a more marketing focused position. One random day, wheels were set into motion when a girl who was working in the marketing department told me and my colleagues she was pregnant. I remember the day very well, since I didn't know what to say to her -- instead I just told her "well done" which clearly isn't the right sentiment. "Congratulations" was what I meant, but one doesn't exactly mean the other. I also remember texting some friends about it, and mentioning to them how my first thought was "maybe I can have your job?".
Weeks turned into months, I kept half an eye on the company intranet for job postings, but kept looking for jobs in London. Then one day as expected the marketing job appeared, naturally I applied for it -- and mostly forgot about it from there. It seemed like forever before my application was acknowledged, and then only to say they would contact me about an interview soon. The girl said at the time the email was a good sign, they wanted to keep me keen while they were still sorting things out. Though I resorted to contacting HR a while later after no further indication of interviews had been had, the interview did indeed come.
I didn't tell my bosses the day I had the interview. I figured unless I needed time off, I didn't tell them about other interviews, and it just wasn't their business. The interview itself was pretty informal, but went on for over an hour -- I left feeling exhausted, but hopeful. I felt very well qualified for the position, and was encouraged by a lack of other candidates -- in fact, part way through the interview I had to try and stop myself from smiling too much, when I got the feeling that the job was mine.
I've learned not to trust that feeling, since I've had it in interviews at least twice before. A week passed after the interview and I began to lose hope, I told a friend on Thursday morning that I wasn't feeling optimistic, sure that I would have heard sooner if there was good news. That same afternoon I did get the news. The contact from HR stopped by my desk and asked if he could "borrow" me, which meant only one thing. I was taken to a conference room, where between them the HR guy and the marketing guy told me they were giving me the job.
It's a year's contract, starting in October -- it seems that despite them needing someone right away, and despite me not even being on a contract any more and only needing to give my temp agency a week's notice, somehow the "powers that be" wrangled that I should start the second week in October, so they can find someone to replace me. My job is by no means difficult, but it is going to take considerably longer than a couple of weeks to train someone how to do the various aspects of it.
Pretty much, it's all good news. The wages aren't spectacular, but very good for the location and the level of the job, the job is much more suited to what I enjoy and what I am good at, and with a little bit of work, the girl and I can now move into a rented place of our own.
It's not ideal for the girl, who still has to commute to London, but being the lovely, supportive girl she is she sees all the improvements it brings -- like better transport links, cheaper rent than London, a reasonable commuting time and a place where we can be together. Plus, in a year's time when the contract is either up for renewal or expiring, maybe then we can make it into London.
We celebrated the job on Friday night with steak and chicken fajitas and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne, that I was given when I left my first freelance job and had been saving for when I got a real job. Part of me thinks I am well overdue this -- I still think I should have been given the job after my PR internship, and still wish I had got the job in Brighton. But I was asked in my interview about mistakes I might have made in the past, and feeling philosophical I said sometimes with a bit of distance you can see how making a mistake lead to something important -- maybe you learn something, or maybe you find something out, or maybe it just leads you somewhere better. That's how I like to think of the jobs that never were -- not mistakes, but leading me somewhere...important.
I'm trading in my steel-toecapped boots that are required footwear in the bus depot itself which is part of the office where I work, in favour of a smart pair of Tom Wolfe shoes. I work in marketing & PR again now, and I intend to look the part.
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Making a promise
Ack! It's been over a month since my last post. I'm a bad, bad blogger -- but as of today, I promise to do better. If the girl can commit to posting every other day (or every few days) then so can I, dammit. Even if I don't have internet access in work, it just means I'll have to draft posts out in notepad.
I don't know where I left off with my last post or with regular scheduled programming, but I will try and pick things up and move on as best as I can.
I've been going to Reading Festival nearly every year since I was about 17, so for the last 10 years. I don't go religiously, there have been years I've missed -- like the summer I returned from Utah, and the year when I had to finish my dissertation. I think The Pixies headlined that year, so I remain unconvinced I made the wise decision. Anyway. I didn't go this year. I went in 2005, 2006, 2007 (I don't know about '04) but this year, the lineup just wasn't doing a lot for me. There were a few bands I'd watch, but nobody that made me go weak at the knees for. So I resolved to sell my ticket. I thought at the time the money I made from the ticket I put towards a holiday, maybe a week's surfing down in Newquay or the like. Then somewhere along the line, I changed my mind.
Instead, I decided I was going to go to Peru. Not this summer, of course, but next year -- and I would scale the Peruvian peaks in aid of a cancer charity. My first idea was to do it for cancer research, but they didn't seem to have a trip organised specifically -- however, Macmillan Cancer Support did. It wasn't like Macmillan were my second choice, part of the motivation behind the trip is in memory of my aunt who died of cancer late last year -- and the Macmillan nurses were like saints to her. It seemed fitting. So instead of a new television or something shiny, or a week surfing and drinking, I paid £300 registration to trek the Inca Trail next March.
I have already made my "old" blog my dedicated Peru scribblings, it's as much a writing exercise as anything else -- the tone of the writing is intended to be less casual than this one, and more informative. We shall see how it works out. It's also to keep me motivated, and for anyone who wants to follow my progress. The progress itself I would describe right now as "steady". Fundraising is underway, although it seems to be languishing somewhat at under £300 -- when I have to raise £3,300 minimum. I feel a little bit lazy as I haven't really done anything in the way of fundraising so far, other than set up a JustGiving page online. I've emailed all my address book (which got a total of one response, from someone asking how they knew me, as they couldn't remember), I've set up a Facebook group and I've had a few donations. The only reason I'm not freaking out is I know that I have technically already raised at least half of my target, even if the money hasn't been officially donated yet. I asked the MD at work for money, he agreed, and in one fell swoop almost half the target has been promised to me. I feel a tiny bit guilty that I'm selling out or cheating, but if Macmillan get the money, does it matter where it came from? It all feels a bit like Major Barbara, the play by George Bernard Shaw where about weapons manufacturer who donates money to the Salvation Army, of which his daughter is the Major of the title.
I don't want to talk too much about the Peru stuff since that's what the Peru blog is for, but here at least I can write about all the non-official stuff. I got a reassessment at the gym, and have had a training program designed for me specifically for the Inca Trail. As the girl rightly pointed out to me early on, the fitter I can be when I do it, the more I will enjoy it -- and it is very important to me that I should enjoy it. My bodyfat has reassuringly decreased slightly since the last time it was measured, which is mostly due to drinking less alcohol during the week, trying to drink "zero" soft drinks if I have to at all, and eating less chocolate and sugary snacks. But now I am all motivated and stuff by this tangible goal -- not just "I want a flatter stomach" or "I want to look good in a t-shirt" or even the usual things of having more muscle, less fat and lower blood pressure. Now I can focus all on Peru. So I have a cardio-intensive program with lots of stepping and walking and climbing and that's good. It feels like progress.
I've been going for interviews for jobs, like, a lot. To the point where I had almost one every week. Some were good, some where horrible. Most were good but just didn't lead anywhere. I got my hopes up for an IT/marketing job in Shoreditch, but it didn't happen, then I had some interviews for a financial services PR job way the hell out in Richmond -- and that seemed promising, too. I got on well with the MD who interviewed me, started reading the Financial Times and money magazines, and thought it could go my way. Unfortunately, it didn't -- another candidate had more direct experience, so I was out of luck. My year of freelancing and no proper job also didn't help me, and I think not working in PR since was hardly a bonus for me. On the plus side, though, I did get some very useful feedback and a lot of reassurance about the strength of my writing skills -- as well as the suggestion that I should focus far more on these. I've registered on Elance, not expecting to make any sort of real money out of it, but hoping to have more commissioned work to include in my portfolio.
The most important progress was made in being offered a job. The rest of that, I guess, deserves its own post...
Anyway, I promise to try and update at least a couple of times a week now. I need to rediscover my blogging mojo, and it seems a shame to waste my writing on work emails.
I don't know where I left off with my last post or with regular scheduled programming, but I will try and pick things up and move on as best as I can.
I've been going to Reading Festival nearly every year since I was about 17, so for the last 10 years. I don't go religiously, there have been years I've missed -- like the summer I returned from Utah, and the year when I had to finish my dissertation. I think The Pixies headlined that year, so I remain unconvinced I made the wise decision. Anyway. I didn't go this year. I went in 2005, 2006, 2007 (I don't know about '04) but this year, the lineup just wasn't doing a lot for me. There were a few bands I'd watch, but nobody that made me go weak at the knees for. So I resolved to sell my ticket. I thought at the time the money I made from the ticket I put towards a holiday, maybe a week's surfing down in Newquay or the like. Then somewhere along the line, I changed my mind.
Instead, I decided I was going to go to Peru. Not this summer, of course, but next year -- and I would scale the Peruvian peaks in aid of a cancer charity. My first idea was to do it for cancer research, but they didn't seem to have a trip organised specifically -- however, Macmillan Cancer Support did. It wasn't like Macmillan were my second choice, part of the motivation behind the trip is in memory of my aunt who died of cancer late last year -- and the Macmillan nurses were like saints to her. It seemed fitting. So instead of a new television or something shiny, or a week surfing and drinking, I paid £300 registration to trek the Inca Trail next March.
I have already made my "old" blog my dedicated Peru scribblings, it's as much a writing exercise as anything else -- the tone of the writing is intended to be less casual than this one, and more informative. We shall see how it works out. It's also to keep me motivated, and for anyone who wants to follow my progress. The progress itself I would describe right now as "steady". Fundraising is underway, although it seems to be languishing somewhat at under £300 -- when I have to raise £3,300 minimum. I feel a little bit lazy as I haven't really done anything in the way of fundraising so far, other than set up a JustGiving page online. I've emailed all my address book (which got a total of one response, from someone asking how they knew me, as they couldn't remember), I've set up a Facebook group and I've had a few donations. The only reason I'm not freaking out is I know that I have technically already raised at least half of my target, even if the money hasn't been officially donated yet. I asked the MD at work for money, he agreed, and in one fell swoop almost half the target has been promised to me. I feel a tiny bit guilty that I'm selling out or cheating, but if Macmillan get the money, does it matter where it came from? It all feels a bit like Major Barbara, the play by George Bernard Shaw where about weapons manufacturer who donates money to the Salvation Army, of which his daughter is the Major of the title.
I don't want to talk too much about the Peru stuff since that's what the Peru blog is for, but here at least I can write about all the non-official stuff. I got a reassessment at the gym, and have had a training program designed for me specifically for the Inca Trail. As the girl rightly pointed out to me early on, the fitter I can be when I do it, the more I will enjoy it -- and it is very important to me that I should enjoy it. My bodyfat has reassuringly decreased slightly since the last time it was measured, which is mostly due to drinking less alcohol during the week, trying to drink "zero" soft drinks if I have to at all, and eating less chocolate and sugary snacks. But now I am all motivated and stuff by this tangible goal -- not just "I want a flatter stomach" or "I want to look good in a t-shirt" or even the usual things of having more muscle, less fat and lower blood pressure. Now I can focus all on Peru. So I have a cardio-intensive program with lots of stepping and walking and climbing and that's good. It feels like progress.
I've been going for interviews for jobs, like, a lot. To the point where I had almost one every week. Some were good, some where horrible. Most were good but just didn't lead anywhere. I got my hopes up for an IT/marketing job in Shoreditch, but it didn't happen, then I had some interviews for a financial services PR job way the hell out in Richmond -- and that seemed promising, too. I got on well with the MD who interviewed me, started reading the Financial Times and money magazines, and thought it could go my way. Unfortunately, it didn't -- another candidate had more direct experience, so I was out of luck. My year of freelancing and no proper job also didn't help me, and I think not working in PR since was hardly a bonus for me. On the plus side, though, I did get some very useful feedback and a lot of reassurance about the strength of my writing skills -- as well as the suggestion that I should focus far more on these. I've registered on Elance, not expecting to make any sort of real money out of it, but hoping to have more commissioned work to include in my portfolio.
The most important progress was made in being offered a job. The rest of that, I guess, deserves its own post...
Anyway, I promise to try and update at least a couple of times a week now. I need to rediscover my blogging mojo, and it seems a shame to waste my writing on work emails.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)