Why We’re Building Mokchi

About a year ago, I left Google to join a promising startup as Head of Design. For a while, things were going well. I was leading design work, thinking about what we could build next, and working with a team I believed in.

More recently, the company began going through a pivot and restructuring, and I found myself preparing for my next chapter and looking at new opportunities.

Suddenly, I was back in the job market, staring at job boards, waiting for recruiter calls, and faced with the realization that I had to “get good” at interviewing again after more than a decade of rarely having to think about it.

What made me anxious was not the work itself. I knew the work. It was the uncertainty of having to interview seriously again after barely needing that muscle for years.

Interviewing is its own skill, and I was rusty.

Suddenly, I had to take years of projects, decisions, tradeoffs, failures, leadership, and outcomes and turn them into clear answers on demand. “Tell me about yourself.” “Why are you interested in this role?” “What projects have you led?” “How has your work been impactful?” “What would you do differently?”

None of those are impossible questions. But when you have not had to answer them in a long time, there is a strange gap between knowing your own experience and being able to explain it clearly in the moment.

And, of course, that is when one of those old interview memories finds its way back. The kind of personal story that somehow sticks with you for life and always finds a way to remind you it is still there.

For me, it was an interview with EA SPORTS early in my career.

The role was for a junior UX designer working on video games. I had landed the interview shortly after graduating, and I thought it was going really well. I had been invited to see their incredible campus, I was excited about the role, and I could genuinely picture myself working there.

Then I was put on the spot.

I was asked how I kept up my interest in design.

“I read books,” I said.

“Oh, really? What books are you reading right now?”

“Oh, uh… I forget the name of it, but my instructor at school recommended it to me.”

And that was it. I had crumbled.

The answer sounded perfectly reasonable in my head until someone asked me to be specific. I remember the pause, the feeling of suddenly hearing how weak it sounded, and knowing I had no real way to recover.

I was never offered that job, and I never followed up to ask why. Perhaps out of slight embarrassment, but I carried that moment with me. It taught me something that has stayed with me ever since: the difficult part of interviewing is not always about knowing the right answer. It is being able to find it when someone puts you on the spot.

So, when I found myself back in the market, I thought I had a plan.

I would apply broadly and get a few low-stakes, awkward interviews out of the way. I would learn where my stories fell apart and feel sharper before the opportunities I really wanted to land came along.

Fail early. Learn quickly. Be ready when it counts.

There was only one problem: I was not getting enough interviews to practice.

I could keep refining my résumé and portfolio. I could continue to read job descriptions, watch interview advice, write down stories from past projects, and ask ChatGPT to help me structure an answer. All of that was useful, but it did not address what I was actually anxious about: the interview itself.

I found that when I was practicing alone, I would avoid the awkward moments. I could stop when an answer got uncomfortable, rewrite it before anyone heard it, or move on to a question I felt more confident about.

A real interviewer does not let you do that.

If early interviews are supposed to be how you build that muscle, what happens when you can’t even get those interviews in the first place?

That was the problem I wanted to solve for myself.

Mokchi began as an approachable, easy place to get those reps in before a real opportunity is on the line.

Not another generic answer generator, and not another list of common interview questions. A place to practice the actual conversation for the role you are pursuing. Get put on the spot and find out where your story needs more work.

The first time I used an early version of Mokchi, it made me uncomfortable. It immediately showed me how unprepared I was.

I knew my work. I had lived the projects. But some of my answers were far less clear out loud than they had been in my head.

I could hear myself leaning on vague language. I could feel which examples had real substance and which ones started falling apart when I had to explain the decisions behind them. Sometimes I knew exactly what I wanted to say and still could not find a clean way to say it.

It was uncomfortable, but it was useful.

The next day, I tried again.

I was not suddenly great at interviewing, but I was less surprised by myself. I had a cleaner starting point. I knew which stories needed work. The pressure felt a little more familiar.

Mokchi started as something I built for myself because I needed those reps.

But I know I am not the only person in that situation.

Maybe you have been in the same role for years.

Maybe you were laid off unexpectedly.

Maybe you have done great work for a long time, but the interview muscle has just atrophied a little because you have not had to use it.

That does not mean you are not capable of the work. It just means you need the reps.

That is what we are trying to build with Mokchi. Not something people need to use forever, and not something that promises to remove all the nerves from an interview. The stakes are still real.

But you should be able to have that first awkward conversation, the rambling answer, and the difficult follow-up before the opportunity you care about is sitting across from you.

Mokchi is still early in development, and we are still figuring out what it should become.

If any of this resonates with you, reach out for access and try it out.

Get a few reps in.

And maybe help us make it better. :)