STRANGER THAN FICTION: PUT UP YER PRIDE, MAW, WE'RE GOIN' JOB HUNTIN'

There's nothing more humiliating than putting your qualifications on display for someone to accept or reject. I should know. I've been rejected by nearly every major newspaper in the United States.

Many of them send letters. One of my favorites, received three years ago from a Tennessee paper, said something like, "We have no job openings that match your qualifications." Hey! Not so fast! You don't have any janitorial positions open? How about paper routes? My car runs, dammit.

The one from Central Florida said they don't hire reporters until they've watched them for several years. Now, when I get that odd feeling I'm being watched, I'll know who's doing it. Thank heavens I'm not a paranoid schizophrenic, or there could be some REAL problems with this.

Of course, most large newspapers don't openly reject you. They just don't acknowledge they've ever heard from you. I called a managing editor in North Carolina to ask if she received my resume and copies of my work. There was a brief pause, some shuffling and then, "Oh yeah. Here it is on my desk. I'll let you know if anything works out."She was probably intensely studying her phone bill.

At least Ms. Congeniality of North Carolina returned my call. So many others ignore voice mail. But I've discovered a way to overcome that.

See, first I leave a generic message, something like, "Hello, Mr. Blank. This is Heidi Nieland from Pensacola, Fla., just checking to see if you received my resume and work samples. Please call me at ..." and I leave my home and pager numbers. Of course, they don't call back, so then I call and say, "Mr. Blank. This is Heidi Nieland again. You didn't call me back. I really don't know what to think ..." and I leave my number again.

The third time, I say, "Mr. Blank, I absolutely loved the tie you were wearing today. Did your beautiful wife pick that out? I'll be WATCHING you for fashion tips."And the fourth time: "Who was that beautiful little girl you dropped off at school today? Nice car!" Well, you'd better believe I get a call back after that last one. It's usually from the cops. But I don't let that deter me, because nothing insures landing an interview like persistence, persistence, persistence.

Of course, landing a job interview doesn't mean you'll get a job.

It's a minefield! I'll never forget my 1994 interview with Joe Sullivan, editor of the Southeast Missourian.

JOE: I see from your resume that you spent a couple years living in Piedmont and working at KPWB radio. What took you there.

ME: Well, I was 19 years old and a complete idiot.

JOE: Really? Piedmont is my hometown.

ME: What a beautiful community, sir.

And on another interview, just this year, one assistant editor told me my work was average and advised me to abandon news writing as soon as possible. "Just some free advice from someone with no vested interest in your career," she said, smiling widely.

This person hadn't managed to match her skirt with her blouse that day but HAD managed to turn her hair into a Ronald McDonald 'do. I'm not sure why she thought I'd want her free advice, but what can you do on a job interview? I thanked her.

Despite all of that, I've managed to land a job. So did The Other Half. We'll be moving to Fort Lauderdale in a couple of weeks, after fulfilling our obligation of a two-week notice at our current job.

Aren't the most uninspired times of your career after you've given your two-week notice but before you've started your next job? The prevailing thought in your mind is: "What are they going to do? Fire me.

AH-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"But I'm trying to honestly earn my wages while planning a move and contemplating whether this new job is over my head or not.

Unfortunately, something has to give, and it's going to be this column for a little while. To everyone who read my work first in the Standard-Democrat in Sikeston and later in the Southeast Missourian in Cape Girardeau and other Rust-owned papers for these past eight years, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!! Without you, why bother writing anything? You've made me feel liked, which is all most columnists ever want.

I need a breather, and then I'll be back when the Southeast Missourian will have me.

Wish me luck.

Heidi Nieland is a former reporter for the Southeast Missourian who now lives in Pensacola, Fla.