I'm not fantastic at writing cover letters.
From what I gather, the preferred tone seems to be 1/2 "letter from a Civil War soldier a la Ken Burns documentary" and the other 1/2 being "Daniel Plainview's “I’m an oilman” monologue from There Will Be Blood." Allow me to demonstrate. Click here and read this below:
My dearest job. I write to you today to ask for not just your hand, but your trust. I firmly believe myself to be the right man for the job. Many have applied but I implore you to recognize myself to be the one true suitor for your hand in gainful employment. My years of experience draining oilfields speak to my vim and vigor for that of assistant manager at this Bennigans location.
When I wrote to Nashville Scene ages ago in 2011, trying anything to get a column going, I spoke about printing out and framing my resume, with people dancing in the streets a la the Mick Jagger and David Bowie video to my gainful employment. I have a family now. I can rarely pull those kinds of stunts off at 35.
Maybe the formality required for these kinds of things holds the right people back. I made two hires in my time as an editor and hired them both on the strength of how they wrote. The faux-honesty of LinkedIn, etc, doesn't really lend itself to humanity or empathy, which (in my delightfuly 20th century mindset!) are far more valuable skills to have in day-to-day jobs than the ability to write in slightly Newspeak-via-Silicon-Valley language. Looking for jobs in 2019 turns the most basic human need - for finding your purpose - into the hyper-confident yet non-specific mysticism of a Goop product description. We can’t all be “thrilled to announce”, can we?
I hired an intern based on the kid's liberal use of the word "amazing" and sly use of an Elvis Costello reference in his cover letter, and now that kid has a better job than I do.