Like many writers’ first, overly ambitious, semi-autobiographical works, Tinselfly is a story about its own creation.

Setting: a sci-fi universe where spaceship travel is dying out, and wormholes are taking their place.

A young woman suddenly finds herself able to travel millions of miles in a single step, staring into a fresh new wormhole leading to a prestigious academy on another world. This whole idea of wormholes is still fairly new to her, but all she has to do is start walking. She has always dreamed of attending —

–and she never walks through.

* * *

I am currently job hunting. I love my current job, but we’re all grant funded, and we’re running out of grant, so here I am.

I’m a Unity developer, and there aren’t a ton of Unity developer positions where I live, so I’m looking for remote work for the first time in my life.

Call it what you will, but I’m not used to applying for jobs where nobody already working at the company can vouch for me. I’m having to work harder to describe my skills and work history to other people than I ever have before.

I’m having to work harder to remember my skills and work history than I ever have before.

* * *

Setting: a college dorm room in 1995.

I suddenly find myself in a position to send a job application to someone on the other side of the country, starting at a recruitment web page for a prestigious visual effects studio. This whole idea of using the Internet to communicate with people is still fairly new to me, but all I have to do is click a button —

— and I never do.

I never assembled a portfolio.

Despite being well known as someone who could do intricately detailed pencil and paper drawings, despite having won Best of Show in a state arts competition for digital art, despite receiving one of the highest visual and performing arts awards my high school had to offer, despite this being my dream job, I had done very little work towards getting it, because California is very far away from Oklahoma. I could never go.

More importantly, I had no portfolio. It never occurred to me to keep a record of what I’d made.

And suddenly, California was on my computer screen.

* * *

I’m not used to keeping records. I don’t save mementos. I don’t look at old photos of past adventures. They don’t in any way jog old, happy memories; I have few if any memories to jog.

The photographic evidence may suggest certain things, but that’s not a memory.

In a very broad sense I know who I am and what I can do. But ask me what I’ve done and I won’t know the answer for a few minutes, if ever.

* * *

I had my first technical interview today. And, of course, they asked about my recent accomplishments and challenges. And, of course, I had trouble remembering.

I’m used to having other people remembering my accomplishments for me. On a day-to-day basis, I don’t need to remember. I just need to retain the skills and knowledge I gain from surmounting each challenge.

* * *

A portfolio is, almost by definition, for other people. But what if I didn’t make one for other people? What if I made it for me? With a robust portfolio, I could know what I’ve done as well as what I can do. And prospective employers would know that, too.

It wouldn’t have to be just visual, either. I’ve solved a lot of complex technical challenges for Tinselfly. I can’t remember, as I am writing this, what many of those challenges were–

–but the evidence suggests that I solved them.

I could review my portfolio between each interview, as if cramming for a test. And maybe–just maybe–I could hold that knowledge just long enough to more effectively communicate my own worth as an employee.

* * *

Click! I applied for a job.
Click! I applied for another job.
Click! Look! I did it again!

Such is the nature of looking for remote work in 2023.

The clicking is too easy, all this clicking is useless if I can’t describe what I think my value is to others.

So now I am, for the first time in my life, assembling a portfolio, both for myself and potential employers. As of this writing it’s still fairly incomplete, but it’s getting there.

And, if only for my own benefit, I’d like to make more posts here about the technical side of Tinselfly.

Finding a job isn’t going to be easy, but I’m feeling better and better about the job hunt every day.