One of my colleagues constantly admonishes - “people are an unstable product” – and in my experience, truer words have never been spoken.

It’s worth re-emphasizing that while the executive search business is one of the best ways to meet and work with fascinating, high-achieving individuals, there is never a shortage of encounters that leave you questioning the basic comprehension, courtesy, and common-sense of your fellow humans – especially when they are sending emails.

Like most people, I receive hundreds of unsolicited emails requesting *something* (not counting the exiled-royal-family-member-needing-urgent-financial-assistance-type), including those which have obviously been blind-copied to a massive group. One of my all-time favorites, though, was from a “professional ghost-writer” who not only neglected to BCC his group email list, but began:

Dear Recruiters,

I received your e-mail addresses from xxx. He knows some of you personally;
some of you only by reputation.

Nothing makes me more energized to respond than being commoditized and lumped in with a group I have no association with (except through visible email address inclusion – thanks!), and informed that some other person may or may not, know me personally.

For those who did have the personal connection, how special they must have felt! I should mention there were only eight email addresses in the group; clearly it would have taken far too long to write to each individually.

The only thing worse than this person categorically demonstrating his career wasn’t worth the effort to write fewer than eight targeted messages was that he was ostensibly displaying his skills as a communications professional!

Fortunately, not every executive leadership role requires those “professional ghost-writer” caliber communication skills. But if writing is not your strength, then common sense should dictate. Don’t overwrite. Especially if it’s clear that you took a first draft, hit Thesaurus.com, and selected the synonym with the most syllables. From another e-mail:

Vigorously accustomed to xxx, I am now well-postured for a leadership role in yyy.

No – I have no idea what that means either.    

We’ve all received the holiday emails that consist of a quick “Happy Holidays” greeting, and then devolve into a 10,000 word, epic personal newsletter/update in excruciating detail. The runner-up to the most amazing email I’ve ever received was of similar length and came from an individual seeking advice on telecommunications leadership opportunities. After two generic sentences on his background, the email degenerated into a single-spaced, stream of consciousness rant about the unscrupulous collusion and consolidation of the industry, with multi-colored, LARGE FONT BOLDED ALL CAPS randomly scattered for emphasis, and the final sign-off:

…anyway, thanks for the ear.

Sincerely,

Xxxx

But even that email paled in comparison to the greatest of all. Professionally, long-form addressed in the body of the email with my full name, contact information, date, and formal block-heading, it began:

Dear Mr. Lepiesza:

The car screeched to a halt, tires skidding along the highway asphalt. The child, unrestrained in the back seat, was thrown headlong through the front windshield, crashing onto the pavement thirty yards away. Paramedics who rushed to the scene doubted he would survive through the night.

He did.

I know because I am that child.

45 years later, I am now the Chief Operations Officer for a highly successful xxx 

It continued on in breezy fashion after that...I lament that I will never see its equal.

Lastly, one unrelated interview encounter that needs to be recorded for posterity:

When a colleague arrived 10 minutes ahead of schedule to meet Candidate A at the agreed meeting point in the hotel lobby, she was surprised to find Candidate B – whom she would be interviewing three hours later – there instead. She was even more surprised when Candidate B informed her that since he was a few hours early, he would “grab a seat nearby so I can watch you in action.” Unsurprisingly, Candidate B, who was shooed away before Candidate A arrived, turned out to be a Candidate “F.”