If You're Singing an ABBA Song by the End, My Job Is Done Here

I just want someone to take a chance on me.

I arrived in New York almost one year ago.  I debated for a long time.  I love New York.  Always have and always will--this is the place I call home.  But, I was terrified that I was diving head first into disaster.

I left a job that I held for almost six years in hopes of making it here.  That hasn't exactly happened.  I enjoyed my first month here--exploring and rediscovering this wondrous place.  I reveled in the small things: buskers, art, food.  I went to shows.  I smiled.  I relaxed.  The pain that had gripped my chest for two years began to fade.  

Unfortunately, reality set in and I had to resume the job search.  I was accustomed to heartbreak and to rejection, so I faced nothing new here.  However, by December, I was working with a band merchandise company.  What started as a small volunteer opportunity quickly turned into a full-time gig.  For four months, I folded, counted, sorted, packed, organized, and scheduled merchandise fulfillment.  In spite of a desire to work in publishing, I loved this gig.

All good things must come to an end, and merch fulfillment was no different.  I was thrust back into the daily grind of job hunting and cover letter writing.  Two months later--I'm still doing it.

Some applications are an endurance test.  After uploading a resume and cover letter--there is the online form which asks for every bit of information (and then some) that is on the resume.  Some are simple templates that ask for nothing more than a resume and the basic information (not even a cover letter--which is a blessing and a curse).  One company uses a terrible template that doesn't allow old uploads to be deleted.  Nor does it allow a new account to be created with an email address that has been used on their site before.  Some sites send an auto-reply to applications.  Some send rejections once the job has been filled.  Most, however, send nothing at all.  I spend many days waiting for a phone call or email that I know will never come.

As desperation and frustration set in, I began to look for bookstore jobs.  I could get no more than halfway through an ad without sobbing.  I swore I wouldn't go back to that.  I don't want to get trapped again.  I don't want to be miserable again.  

But, through this I realized that I have no real "plan b."  I've known since I learned how to write that this is what I want to do.  I started writing poems as a child and never stopped.  Before I even reached high school, I knew that I wanted to work in publishing (and, I'm quite sure that even then I singled out Random House as my dream company).  These days, I probably devote an equal amount of my time to my passion for photography--and specifically concert/event photography--but I know that writing and publishing is my true love.  

I guess this entry is my plea to the Universe.  I'm trying, but I need your help.  Since I can't really send a cover letter that says, "I'm smart.  No really.  Hire me," I'll say it here.  I'm not applying for jobs that are out of my league--I'm applying for Editorial Assistant and Administrative Assistant jobs.  No I don't have an internship in the business.  But I have two degrees in English and about six years managing a bookstore.  I know books.  I love books.  I'll work hard to bring them to life.

I just want someone to take a chance on me.