A Tutorial on Job hunting for the Professional Puppeteer

     In these tough economic times, finding work can be challenging for almost any professional.  For the creative professional, the search for employment presents special difficulties and requires a highly specialized skill set.  As a public service to my younger and less experienced colleagues, I have decided to leave detailed instructions on the process of searching for gainful employment as a puppeteer. I cannot guarantee success , of course, but this is the procedure I have always used. It has gotten me where I am today and… well, there’s just no arguing with results!

Part  1

Updating your Resume

 Realize that you haven’t updated your resume in quite some time now. Find a copy. If it is on software that has not yet gone obsolete, this is a plus. Review. Reassure yourself that the cavernous gaps in your employment history are perfectly normal and acceptable on the grounds that no prospective employer will care about your vast experience in retail or waiting tables. Add your most recent work experiences, taking care to frame them in the most impressive way possible.  Remember:  the more job titles and responsibilities you can attribute to yourself, the more impressed you future boss will be!  Edit your references, carefully making sure you have their correct contact information and that you still are on speaking terms. Erase anything under the heading “References” and replace with “Available upon Request”.   Read your “Special Skills” section. Realize how random and implausible it looks, in spite of the fact it’s all perfectly true. Update and refine this section before invariably editing it out for taking up too much space, and because ultimately no one will care whether or not you can juggle.

Pro Tip: Remember to save a copy with the “References” and “Skills” section intact. This will inevitably be the only copy that somehow survives. 

Part 2

The Hunt

    Go online. Open your search engine. Type in the phrase: “Puppetry Jobs”. Be astonished at the sheer number of results this produces. With a sense of hope and optimism begin scanning the listings of a major job search site. Notice about three pages in that most of these are for a software program called “Puppet” which you hadn’t previously heard of and don’t know how to operate. Swear. Change your search term to either “Puppetry “or “Puppeteer” Browse through the results. Eliminate any that include the words “Intern” or “Volunteer”. This should narrow your search down to about 3 listings. To any basic job posting there are three basic reactions. They are as follows:

1)      Amused Contempt:  Upon researching the company’s website, you are astonished by the bald faced incompetence of their puppet design, ugly website and cheesy show selection.  You decide instantly it isn’t worth your time to apply and marvel to yourself how such rank amateurs can possibly stay in business. This reaction will be appropriate for about 97% of what you’ll see.

2)      Mild Interest: After reviewing the company website, you are not blown away, but this company seems to have things relatively together.  Working for them would seem to be a distinct possibility. Then you read what they’re asking for. They want you to sing. They expect a minimum of 3 years in interpretive dance training. You must be ten years younger, seven inches shorter and probably the opposite gender. There is absolutely no creative input from the performers.  Preference in casting is given towards full blooded Fijian natives. You need to fly cross country on your own expense to attend the audition in two days. They pay 50 dollars per week. Moving on.

3)      Delight:  This listing might even be for a troop you’ve heard of. Their website looks really cool. The puppets are beautiful. Their shows are really interesting and innovative. You watch their videos and are genuinely impressed. You start to fantasize about working alongside these people who will doubtlessly be funny and cool and listen to your ideas. They are even based in a city you want to go to.  Also, the position was filled three months ago.  

Go to another Jobsite. Repeat process. Repeat process. Repeat process. Decide you’ve earned a break for a quick game of FreeCell. Two hours later, repeat process.  Look on a puppetry specific website. Realize that the listings are pretty much the same as what you’ve been looking at all along. Only this time, they're accompanied by idiotically chirpy and obvious pointers on how to find work.  Find another puppetry site.  Find out they’ve been defunct for several years. Check in on Facebook. Read the updates of your performer friends who are all happily employed and doing really fun projects. Decide that you now hate them. Open bottle of whiskey. Make yourself a drink (Pro tip: After this stage, it is vitally important that you do not contact any prospective employers. Trust me).  Go back to searching. Ten websites and two drinks later, notice that you’re looking at all the same websites over again. Look up that one troop you kind of liked on Youtube. Begin drinking straight from the bottle. Decide that the video you like reminds you of that amazing puppeteer who inspired you to follow your dream in the first place. Try to find that famous sketch of his. You know that hilarious one with the lobsters?  Spend the next hour obsessively trying to find it before remembering it was called “The Lobster Sketch”.  Watch it. Wonder why you can’t make something so utterly brilliant. Read the comments on the video. Become annoyed by one idiot who clearly doesn’t understand how good this is. Consider writing a scathing comment at him until you realize that even though you might be drunk, your judgment isn’t nearly impaired enough for a “Comments section “. Take another swig. Go to the bathroom. Catch sight of your own reflection. Notice your bald spot is bigger. Notice that you’ve gained weight. Notice the lines around your eyes.  Decide to start exercising and eating healthy. Order a bacon and onion pizza. While eating, get all maudlin and sentimental about your passing youth. Call an old dear friend in a distant city. Whine at them. Complain that the opportunities are all for younger people. Mention that you’re afraid of dying alone, obscure, and unloved.  Weep. Allow them to pacify you. Talk for hours until they point out that its two a.m. and they have to get up in the morning. Hang up. Put the empty bottle in the recycling.   Save the last slices for breakfast.  Go to bed. Wake up hung-over the next morning and start all over again. Continue this process until you actually find work or your remaining friends have staged yet another intervention.