Acceptance Letter

Hi everyone! Here is an example of an acceptance letter I wrote for a sales job. Try not to copy it, just have a read and write one for yourself.

Dear hiring manager (or team),

Thank you for your offer of employment.

Q: What question does every CEO have when hiring a new business team member?

A: What makes you the BEST for my business?

I have an arsenal of answers, a few I will describe below. Let’s begin.

Q: What will you contribute?

A: I will empower you to be YOUR best. I will put my best talent forward understanding that there may be a learning curve, I can and will keep up.

Q: Every project will have a PROCESS to reach a targeted end. What’s your plan?

A: I aim to –

  1. Increase your profit margin by refining your sales purchasing funnel
  2. Raise overall awareness & interest in your company, products and services
  3. Generate more flexibility for the team, so that your company can further succeed

Q: What main attribute will you bring to the table?

A: Integrity. Integrity is the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles or moral uprightness. It is a personal choice to hold one’s self to consistent standards.

Q: What’s your goal?

A: I will bring forth growth by focusing on the following –


  • Documenting the customer onboarding process
  • Developing welcome care packages
  • Articulating in-house processes & access to resources to the team and our clients
  • Writing case studies about the team, clients and our products/services
  • Creating client profiles
  • Performing client interviews over the phone and/or in person
  • Creating a Q+A document (5-8 questions) for customer stories to promote new business and to retain existing clientele
  • Promoting customer stories to expand our networking community via applicable social channels and platforms
  • Assisting with creative and technical content in other formats (blog, video etc.)

I can also help with copywriting, idea development, advertising, creative/art direction, account management and project coordination.

Q: How do you conclude?

A: I am insightful, intelligent and innovative. I intend to find ways to make things simpler and larger for you. I’m eager to learn. I am genuine. I am constantly inspired. I am enthusiastic and will take care of the company and our clients’ needs. I will proactively listen to my team. I will be dependable & I will deliver!

Thank you and best regards,

Chona Fe Canlas (your new Sales Specialist)

Finding creative + effective ways to communicate can be a challenge. How will your audience receive your message? Will they be pleasantly surprised or immediately repulsed? It’s always worth the risk to edit things down to their simplest context. So, take a different approach!

3 – A Day

“Dude, I’m not coming up yet.”, “I’m not ready.”

Daisy was so frustrated. Why did he have to control her like that? Why was he in charge and not her? The green tag of her Champion jumper rubbed the back of her neck and she irritatedly scratched, like a black spider would trying to climb a slippery tent. From here on out, she was done being told what to do. “I am going to succeed, if it’s the last thing I’m capable of, dangit, I WILL!” She expired her smoke, while tiny violet pills leapt off her dress making their way down onto pillows marking the street. Today there were no jewels or yams protruding from the earth. Wait, what? Where…am…I? Daisy slapped her forehead feeling silly and stern. “I thought the map was taking me through that way…hmm…I am going to have to reconfigure.” She stuck her finger down her throat to feel the recess between her clavicle and sternum. The bump was still there, and it felt mightier than before. With a giant sigh of relief, Daisy whipped her hand out and quickly rubbed her brow of the pink and yellow sweat trickling downward toward the edge of her puffy orange UVC (never reaches the earth) slippers. The colours were debating with the sunset, arguing in agreeance with this theory: Can we reproduce smells using sight? If only I could see my thoughts, Chona thinks.

“Is it still not working yet or?”, “No.”

Okay, well then…let me think. I have zero capability of calculating the difference between time and space using true visuality AND I have thus far only found value in doing nothing. Everything was trying to pinpoint the exact ‘moment memory’ Chona experienced most frequently while driving. Today, June 24, 2019, she smelled/saw the winter time, the time around Halloween and a few other things. But they came and went so fast, she couldn’t ascertain every detail in time to truly discern the event. And, she most definitely could not determine how in the hell this was working and how she would even begin to explain it. Everything was creating. Everything was putting it together. Everything was adding it up.

Daisy’s mind went blank. She sat solemnly in the imitation art chair wearing a torn out neon pink giant Cotton Ginny t-shirt, and appropriate underwear of course. “To shower or not to shower, that is the key,” she thought. Her boss quipped, “To remember everyone! Cucumber! Coffee! And, no sex please!”

According to the Kama Sutra, a person with the principles of this science, who preserves his virtue, his Artha and his pleasure, will obtain the mastery of Each Other.

“Daisy, are you listening?”, “Yes.”

Seventeen always looked like that, predisposed to sleep, knowing she needed time for rest. Chona Fe yawns and gives up for a bit, then hands the paper over to Alice. She bites into it like a rabid snail, because snails are like tricky people. Alice goes back into hiding and the teen just shrugs again. The adventures have now begun, but where will they take us? Because in this moment, none of this makes sense, right? And, do you truly think it will be a thing? A real, true, regular, normal way of being? Chona thinks, “Probably yes. But, I dunno! I just have to try and will probably die doing it!”

Daisy was listening, darting her eyes toward the light. Alice puffed some letter s’s in the same general direction. Can we begin to read it now, the way to it should read?

2 – The Hiatus

Our explorer has taken a hiatus, she is tired and as she peers across the street, he seems tired as well. She puts on her best coat and slips her feet into some cherry red rain boots. The moment she steps outside, she feels the cold tingle in her bones and her hair sashays as the wind hits her with a warm whisper asking again, “Hey. Are you there?” Flipping your hair in A Day can take you somewhere.

Don’t worry, just keep it as it is, she said. She says these types of things happen to her often, she must partially remain motivated to live and she must secondly rid herself from the despair of The Need. I need my comb, where is it? She reached into her purse, not the one from Vestiaire, but a second-hand Coach made of well-used garbage beige calfskin tin.

A desperate voice in her head urges, “These are the lines, the shapes, the colors, the values, the forms and the textures. There is no SPACE.” Repenting and refusing, Daisy shakes her head vigorously and steps into an oily pink puddle seeing only her reflection for a brief second in time.

Come to the spot, dabble in delight, peruse my space with wonder and might; question clients A, C and J. Find a way to see, see connections and see separations. Come from away, come from near, be the bearer of untimely cheer.” – The Pause and the solemn inquirer of Where

And with that, Alice from Wonderland appears, presenting Daisy with another conundrum, this time more real: “Where can you gather your answers from? Is it online, has it been written by another? When the answers come, make it right, make it right, make it right.” She takes off in a haste, not really caring about her hair and for some reason this time, she is riding an umbrella as if it were from Life Space.

Hmm. That was somehow puzzling. But onto the next block, still in the rain, the sky still bleak, wet, gray. Daisy just can’t seem to pull up her head. She envisions red and yellow amongst oily pink and purple.

“Why is this taking forever?”, “What has become of the perspective?”

It is all askew and small, but still very vast. Very vast? I used to dream in this perspective, really…well…I was awake, burning my eyeballs trying to fall asleep.

“Somehow, there has been someone toying with this section.”

Elevententeen was just that, a constant slideshow of places that required definition.

There was no consistency or realness.

There was so much dismay.

Her entourage had miniature plastic smiles plastered to their faces and there was still that nagging colour red pinned to each user like a little umbrella badge stitched with tiny banana-shaped thread.

Chona has nowhere to go, although her urge to run, to run uphill…is strong.

1 – The Pen

How do you write anew? How do you continue to post after a long weekend of stuffing your face with turkey and cranberry sauce, to the point where, by holiday Monday you’re lost in a hazy misconstruction of football episodes, your daughter’s Super Monsters Halloween edition and extra pumpkin pie/pumpkin coffee cake streaming through your veins?

I drove into work this morning feeling like I took a 5 month mental hiatus and that it would take another 5 years to get back to where I was last Friday in terms of thought processes and drive. But this sobering feeling, is it better than the former? Which should I be chasing?

I finally arrived and tried my best to ignore CBC and Stephen Quinn. Parked and ready to nap, Daisy thought frustratedly, “If I don’t get to my desk, I will fall further and further away into this sluggish slump. It will impact the rest of my week in a very negative way. I can’t be doing it this way!”

Dang it. “It’s starting already,” quipped a voice on the radio, when suddenly two of them proclaimed, “I’m not ready to travel! Dang you, dang it, DANG YOU!”

Are YOU ready?

I’ve fallen! This will last for 2 hours, then the clock will stop ticking on October 21st. I only have so much time to regroup and reiterate my success using succinct words and a logical progression of content.

She’s gone again. Don’t worry, she will return!

Daisy looked upward, toward the roof and saw a glowing star leaning on its edge, skirts away from abandoning friends and arriving onto a dust covered pillow. Puffy like an oyster, she rolled over in bed, drawing her arms over her face and pushing down to feel that cozy, cold feeling she longed for throughout the day. Today was bright and sunny. Bold rays peered through large windows, allowing light to enter her Brooklyn studio apartment. The girl was ready for A Day, ready to do the job she did best – ‘social media marketing’ for an up-and-coming TED startup company in the SoHo district of Elevententeen.

Elevententeen was a designated area for a group of bright communications pupils. They had three things in common. One – they were all Bipolar Type 10. Two – they had recently quit ‘drinking’. And three – they lived with the intent to impact the digital landscape, as no previous humans could have done it before them.

Daisy grabbed her pillow and immediately clicked on Instagram. That nagging suspicion to see The Need fed her like a rich, decadent chocolate drink costing tons more than a third-hand Prada bag nabbed off Vestiaire (for Seventeen). She quickly clicked, but then something else happened. It did not open, she did not see the grace of her favorite celebrity and his infantry women. She just heard a sound, a long-drawn, slowly creeping vibration of ‘digital air’. The only thing she could think of was, “The content has become redundant however, I can see the validity in re-writing and re-working the same concept several times. That way it will not become null and void. The success that emerged from it originally will still be there. That’s editing!”

“It’s locked!”, “Were you able to get back in?”

No. So, I decide to just write. Write down your thoughts Chona, write them down and write them down again. Get back to your spot on the list, get back to you, this new you. But sadly, I have already developed a headache from the idea of it. Will she be able to leave the content as it is? Will she usurp the value of its flow by editing it down, editing it all out to make complacent sense? Can you back away and still smile and feel success? That is something Alice from Wonderland would say, “Things aren’t worth that much once you start editing out the originality Miss Chona Fe, but I think this is what you think then isn’t that the way?”

Chona looks inward at her periphery, flips her hair, then walks away.