“I’d love to start by giving you some background on Lincoln Media, just to ensure you’re comfortable with us as well.”
“Of course.”
As she speaks, I take in every detail.How the company was founded, their mission, their reach in the industry.It’s everything I hoped for, but I listen carefully, making notes.
Then come the questions.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”she asks, pen poised above her notepad.
I exhale slowly before answering.“Still in this town, hopefully working as a journalist on fashion and lifestyle.I’m really passionate about those topics.I think Lincoln Media has some things I align with, and if the fit is right for you, I’d love for Lincoln Media to be that position.I would love to take on more responsibility as the opportunities arise as well.”
She nods approvingly, writing something down.“How do you handle tight deadlines and high-pressure situations?”
“My approach starts with prioritization.I assess what’s most time sensitive and then work backward from that deadline.I track progress and I’m not afraid to ask for help or resources if needed.”
She nods before briefly looking down and then back to meet my gaze.“How would you handle a situation where a designer is unhappy with the way their collection was featured in your publication?”
“First, I’d reach out to organize a direct conversation; either a call or in-person meeting.I’d listen to their concerns and explain our decision-making process.If there’s a genuine error, I’d own it and discuss how we could correct it in a follow-up feature.And for future features, I’d want clearer communication, so having their input beforehand.”
Her eyes twinkle with amusement.“That’s a great answer.”
The interview continues, flowing more easily now.Finally, she leans back slightly and offers a suggestion.“Would you be open to writing a trial piece?It would give both you and us a chance to see if this is the right fit before making it official.”
I nod eagerly.“Of course, I could absolutely do that.”
It’s perfect, really.It gives me a chance to prove myself without the pressure of a full commitment just yet.If it doesn’t work out, I won’t have to feel like I let Adrian down.
The interview wraps up, and as soon as I log off, I grab my phone to text Mom to let them know I am done.
Next, I dial Adrian.He answers on the first ring.
“How’d it go?”
I laugh.“You’ve been waiting by the phone, haven’t you?”
“Of course.Now tell me.”
I pace the room.“It went really well.They want me to write a trial piece before making an official offer.”
“That’s amazing.I knew you’d impress them.”There’s the faint noise of the hospital in the background, machines beeping, muffled voices, speaker announcements.“I better let you get back to work.Just wanted to update you.”
“When you get the job—and you will—now that I’ve got the keys, we’ll celebrate.”
“Definitely.”
I hang up just as the front door swings open, and the kids come bursting in, their laughter echoing through the house.
Heading out of my room, Felix races past me, and my mom appears behind him, her eyes searching mine for an answer.
“Well?”she asks, her face lighting up with anticipation.
I smile.“It went great.I’m writing a trial piece for them today, just waiting on the email for the topic they want me to cover.”
She pulls me into a hug.“I’m so proud of you.”
I hug her tightly.I feel proud of myself too.
I spend the rest of the afternoon at my desk, the email open in front of me.My trial assignment…a feature on a new fashion line debuting at an upcoming runway show.My fingers hover over the keyboard for only a second before I start typing, the words flowing easily.
