TSA Ate my Laptop – the Analysis

img_2991

So now, let’s see which version of my character study was better.  For those just joining, I left my laptop at TSA and on it was a writing assignment due the same day.  Being an exemplary student, I quickly rewrote my homework before going to class, thus giving me an opportunity to compare my careful writing process and my quick rewrite process: something I would never do if the circumstances didn’t require it.  Check out my posts about the slapdash version 2 and the original version 1 if you want to make your own judgement.

I think both versions have merit, but the hastily written version 2 is better.  Why?  Well at a high level, I have realized that I lose my voice when I edit.  It’s something that I’ve been peripherally aware of for awhile, but this proves my process of making sure I vary sentence structure, use correct verb tense, and nitpick punctuation sucks the soul out of my writing.  Now I wish that meant that I could just stop doing all that, but unfortunately that would leave behind basic issues making me look like a hack.  So instead, I think I’m going to have to add a final round of editing to my work to reinsert the soul.  Mayday, mayday!  Soul reinsertion, stat!  No idea how I’m going to pull that off, but this experiment gives me hope that such a process will work, because remember, I wrote the better draft second.

I’m going to start with what I like more about version 2, and then highlight what I liked better from version 1.  If I was going to use this for something I’d make a mashup of the two and create perfection, but since it’s just an exercise I’ll probably skip that step.  I mean, I got assigned new homework this week that I’ve got to get started on!

Why is version 2 better?

The guy has a voice.  He is “missunderstood and undervalued.”  His mom says he lacks “get up and go.”  He got fired for “lack of initiative.”  He asked the heart attack victim, “What do you want me to do?”  He was told, “You saved this guys’s life, you are a hero.”  (Shockingly that last quote is exactly the same in both versions.)  The simple addition of real words convey the essence of him: showing not telling, right?  I tried to do that in the first version by giving the guy a name, but he didn’t really need a name.  He needed a soul.

The first three paragraphs are all better in the second version because of the good mix of showing and telling.  Also, the character displays better internal conflict.

They wanted me to take some vague idea and magically turn it into something they wanted.  If they weren’t so lazy I would be more effective, but I learned that people don’t want that kind of feedback.

is way better than

What they wanted was some person who was willing to go off and waste time solving vague problems because my bosses were too lazy to define what they really wanted, but I probably shouldn’t have told them that.

Let me tell you, that bottom one is totally me the writer deciding, “Oh, it is time for a long complex sentence now.”  Ugh.  It’s terrible.  I also love the “magically” reference in the top version.  It convey’s this guy’s frustration.  He does not know how to take squishy ideas and turn them into reality, so it must be magic.

The hackathon paragraphs are where version 1 is better, until you get the the old guy’s collapse, then comes the sentence that makes version 2 the total winner.  It’s the point that out-loud laughs occurred, which is better than gold for any writer.

Crouching next to him I asked, “What do you want me to do?” but he didn’t answer.

I mean, the guy clutched his chest and collapsed and this dingbat is so incapable of self motivation that he asks an unconscious body what to do.  So much better than,

Crouching down next to the guy I asked what he needed, but he wasn’t able to answer.

Showing versus telling again.  I bet version 1 wouldn’t have made people laugh.  It doesn’t have the same impact.

For the character study, I think the version 2 ending is better, because it’s an actual ending.  However, if I was going to use this for something else, version 1 leaves the story with somewhere to go.

Why is version 1 better?

In the first version I liked a few things better.  I liked my consistent use of “clarity” and think that “total clarity” is more representative of what the character is looking for than “perfect clarity.”  Also, I was inconsistent in my use of “clarity” in version 2.  This is the most important value to my character so I like the cleaner presentation.

A few lines stood out as better in version 1 than version 2.

Life is made up of vague requests and other people spend their energy chasing after the right problem.

Is better than

People waste a great deal of time chasing after elusive requests.  It’s more efficient to spend time really understanding what someone wants before you go into action.

Another line I really liked from the first version was:

But the best part of being a hacker was that it made me a hero.

This same idea in the second version is a disaster.

I won the first prize once – $5000 – but the best thing happened as a result of hacking was that they made me a hero.

Ugh.  My eyes are bleeding reading that.  Obviously a quickly composed sentence-like thing that didn’t get proofread.  So. Much. Badness.

The last thing I liked better in version 1 was the character’s personal recognition of what he accomplished:

I saved a guy’s life doing exactly what I was told.

There was no creativity in his heroics.  No thinking outside the box.  He followed directions and the old guy didn’t die.  That’s a win for his strengths.  He should personally acknowledge it.

What was the point?

The whole point behind this exercise from 3 AM Ephipany is that “Writers who identify completely with their central character’s POV lack all sense of irony or detachment…A good story allows us to both like and dislike a character even if we are deep inside that character’s POV.”  (POV is point of view.)

So my goal was to take a character trait I do not have – I despise being told what to do – and see if I could turn it into a believable study.  I spent last weekend at a hackathon in the big thinker role – yes it’s a real thing – and there is definitely a “type” of participant that wants to figure out the right answer more then they want to jump in and start coding.  For that particular situation it isn’t a bad strategy, although I found it frustrating since I was supposed to be helping everyone and the question askers monopolized my time.  After my first day at the event, I contemplated why the question-askers were the way they were.  I hoped to make my character annoying, but then convey that his lack of “get up and go” had it’s purposes.  I hope I succeeded.

I thought version 2 was best because I was able to both like and dislike my character more.  He seemed more real to me.

Now I’m off to go read all the comments everyone provided to see if you all agree with me.  Thanks for going on this writing journey with me, and the big take away here is “do not leave your laptop at the TSA checkpoint, because it will cost you $50.”  Also, “it takes more than double 600 words to critique a 600 word character study.”  If you’ve made it this far, dear reader, I thank you.

TSA Ate my laptop – version 1

Quick recap of what’s going on here.  I left my laptop at TSA in Austin last Tuesday and on it was my homework for my writing class.  Disaster!  So, in order to maintain my good-student standing I quickly recreated my 600 word character study from memory and presented it in class, also on Tuesday.  (The details of the assignment and the AACCKKK! version of my story were detailed earlier.)  Today at 10:00 the FedEx man delivered my lost laptop to me, and I did not hug him, but I wanted to.  I ripped off the bubble wrap and hugged my laptop.  It didn’t mind.  It missed me too.

Now, after doing all the work things that were waiting for me on the recovered laptop, I can present to you the first version of my assignment.  The one I was thoughtful about, edited, and worked hard on.  Then the fun part.  Let’s compare which story was better!

As a reminder the assignment was to “imagine a person with an idiosyncratic way of seeing the world…Have this character witness a traumatic event” using first person point of view and 600 words.  (Check out the 3 AM Epiphany for this writing assignment and a host of others.)

I’m not one of those go getters.  My comfort zone isn’t being the lead, or making the strategy, or finding a new path.  Really, I like being told what to do, and I think that’s an overlooked and important role.  As much as my mother complains about my lack of initiative even she sees the benefit.  When she asks me to do the laundry or make dinner, I do it right, every time – provided she gives me the right level of detail in her instructions.

Life is made up of vague requests and other people spend their energy chasing after the right problem.  Not me.  In college, I’d utilize office hours to make sure I really understood assignments.  Exactly what did my professor want the program to do and how should I code it?  The bonus was that sometimes he would even start the assignment for me, because it was the best way for him to provide me with total clarity.  That’s what I’m always striving for.  Total clarity.

My desire to do what I’m told doesn’t mean I’m a follower, far from it.  As soon as it was legal I changed my given name from Charlie to Charlemagne, because it better represented the persona I want to present to the world.  There is a misconception that people who want to please can’t be unique individuals.

Unfortunately, it’s been hard to find my way after college.  I’ve been let go from three jobs because they said I lacked initiative.  What they wanted was some person who was willing to go off and waste time solving vague problems because my bosses were too lazy to define what they really wanted, but I probably shouldn’t have told them that.

I’ve found a niche for myself, though.  Hackathons: events where a bunch of coders, entrepreneurs and big thinkers get together to solve a problem over a weekend.  The big thinkers get up and pitch ideas and the coders, like me, have to create a prototype.  In no time I learned how to pinpoint the big thinkers who needed me: the ones who knew exactly what they wanted done and needed someone to do it.

I won a couple of hackathons with my strategy:  even a big one worth $5,000.  But the best part of being a hacker was that it made me a hero.  One night I was getting some last details from this executive guy.  Everyone else had left, and he was going on about how market share, or something.  Suddenly, he stopped talking and grabbed his chest.  He dropped to the floor.

What was I supposed to do?  Crouching down next to the guy I asked what he needed, but he wasn’t able to answer.  When I called out for help no one came.  I sat next to him for a bit, but after he didn’t wake up I decided to leave.  I made it as far as the hallway, then clarity.  There was one of those AED things on the wall.  I ripped it open, and it started talking to me.  The machine told me exactly what to do, and I did it.  When the machine told me to call 911 I did that too.  Then the dispatcher told me exactly what to do.  When the paramedics arrived they checked the guy out and said, “You saved this guy’s life.  You are a hero.”  I saved a guy’s life doing exactly what I was told.  I’m really hoping he makes a full recovery and then gives me a job.  My clarity saved his life.

Oh.  Some things are better, but some things are worse.  What do you think readers?  I’ll provide my own self-evaluation next!

TSA Ate my Laptop – version 2

I’m taking a class at Lighthouse Writer’s Workshop on Writing Apocalyptic Fiction.  With everything going on in my world I felt like the best way to counteract my fears of climate change, economic disaster, and governmental collapse was to immerse myself in the apocalypse for 8 weeks.  Layer a writing class on top of anxiety on top of a crazy work schedule -including weekend travel- and one of my carefully balanced life pieces was bound to come crashing down.   Cue leaving my laptop at TSA security in Austin and not realizing my mistake until I was midair and halfway home.

At the moment I realized what had happened the first thought to hit me was, “but my homework was on my laptop!”  I intentionally timed my trip to ensure I’d be home right before my writing class.  I’d done the homework and now I was faced with going to class with the lamest excuse.  So, being a total goody-two-shoes I got home and rewrote my 600 word assignment from memory.  Arriving in class I told everyone my story only to discover I was the only person who did the homework, and I did it twice.  (See earlier goody-two-shoes comment.)  Thus I got the honor and privileged of reading aloud my hastily thrown together homework to everyone.  It wasn’t bad.  I got a few snickers at the funny parts, and no snickers at the not funny parts.

However, now find myself faced with a fun personal writing experiment.  My laptop is due to be delivered by FedEx any moment, and I can compare my homework I spent time on – checking grammar and editing – with my 30 minute word dump.  Often I’ve wanted to just trash something I wrote and start over, but I always wonder if the new version will really be any better.  Now I’m going to see, and I’m going to let you see too!  Here is my hastily slapped together homework.  The assignment?  To “imagine a person with an idiosyncratic way of seeing the world…Have this character witness a traumatic event.”  The assignment was to be in first person point of view and 600 words.  (Check out the 3 AM Epiphany for this writing assignment and a host of others.)

Here is the slapdash version for your entertainment:

I am not one of those go getters. In fact, I’ve always liked being told what to do, which is a misunderstood and undervalued skill. People waste a great deal of effort chasing after elusive requests. It’s more efficient to spend time really understanding what someone wants before you go into action. Even my mother – who has always complained about my lack of “get up and go” – admits there are times she appreciates my approach. If she asks me to do the laundry or make dinner she gets exactly what she wants: provided she gives clear direction.
My technique really shined in college. I utilized professors’ office hours to ensure that I really understood their assignments. What programming language did they want me to use? How should the end product look? An unexpected advantage was that often they’d start my project for me to ensure I had perfect clarity. Always my goal is perfect clarity.
Since graduation I’ve been in and out of jobs. Every interview I’ve very up front about my approach, and the three companies that hired me seemed excited by my process. But something always changed; each time I got let go for “lack of initiative”. Lack initiative? The problem was that my managers and mentors never deeply explained what they wanted me to do. They wanted me to take some vague idea and magically turn it into something they wanted. If they weren’t so lazy I would be more effective, but I learned that people don’t want that kind of feedback.
To make ends meet I spend weekends at hackathons. Hackathons are events where programmers, entrepreneurs and big thinkers come together and prototype innovative ideas. My strategy is to listen for the guys who have a really detailed idea. Those are the ones who need my help. I seek them out and we spend all weekend creating their vision. I won first place once – $5000 – but the best thing that happened as a result of hacking was that they made me a hero.
At my last event there was this really old guy who knew exactly what he wanted. He went way over time talking about his idea and encouraged questions while he was being shut down by the event organizers. He and I were a great team. Late at night we were nailing down some final details when he grabbed his chest and collapsed. I didn’t know what to do. Crouching next to him I asked, “What do you want me to do?” but he didn’t answer. I yelled for help, but everyone else had left. After a bit I decided to leave. What else could I do? Then I found total clarity when I walked past one of those AED things on the wall.
I ripped it down and the thing started talking to me. It gave me very specific instructions, and I followed them perfectly. When it told me to call 911, I did, and the dispatcher gave me very specific instructions, which I followed perfectly. Then the paramedics showed up. After I did what they told me, one of them turned to me and said, “You saved this guy’s life. You are a hero.”
They rushed him to the hospital and he made a full recovery. His company had this big event when he went back to work and they presented me with a medal. My mom even got to come. It was great, but I was really hoping for a job. I mean, my clarity saved that guy’s life. We made a great team.

Oh, ding dong!  My laptop is here!  The original version of my assignment coming next!

Kiddo Travel Hacks – Kid Phase

img_3867

Now that my daughter is a rational, reasonable, logical human being (mostly) I love traveling with her.  Her bodily fluids stay inside of her (mostly.)  She’s helpful at the airport (mostly.)  Her eyes see wonders that a solo traveling adult would miss.  We wait to watch the airplane drive under us on the walkway to the terminal.  (Yes, airplanes drive under walkways sometimes.)  She notices a friend at a neighboring gate, and we have a lovely conversation that I would have missed with my head down in my electronic device. I’m an observant traveler, but she really makes me be present.

My absolute favorite trick to traveling with kids is a game I made up on the spur of the moment.  It works for any kid who can count to at least 20.  The day the game was invented we checked our bags and headed toward the security line (cue ominous music).  In one of the mysteries-of-TSA moments the line was long.  So long.  Longer than the line had any business being.  All around me adults were “F-ing security!” and “F- you, why didn’t we leave sooner?” and “F- I’m going to miss my flight!”  In response to my rising panic that my kiddo would hear these angry adults, inspiration hit and I said, “Kiddo, how many big steps do you think it will take to get through this line?”

We started counting big steps.  “Mom, how many do you have?  12?  I have 23.”  I watched as she took an extra big step and stood too close to the person in front of us.  She nodded and said, “24.”  We made it through one wiggle – a phrase coined during the game development which means one length of the barricade wrapped line – and after she tallied our steps she proudly announced, “I’m winning!”  Of course because she has smaller legs it took her more big steps to travel a wiggle so she won.  Silly grown-up me had assumed we were trying to get the least number of steps in per wiggle.  Any game my daughter always wins is a great one, especially in an aggravation filled place like the airport.

Now we play the giant steps game through security.  We play it down the jet way.  We play it wherever there is a line where adults are acting like children who need to have their mouths washed out with soap.  She always wins.  It’s worked for five years, this giant step game.  This year, at 8, she was a bit more shy and afraid of what people would think of our game so we played, but quietly, and she still won.

The other upside of this game is that we almost always attract the attention of someone else who is just trying to make the best of a crappy situation.  We’ll get a smile or a nod, and it makes me happy being goofy with my kid and making others a little happier with our silly game.  The downside of this game?  I abhor long lines at airports when I’m not with her.  It’s all I can do to keep from challenging the angry “F-ing” guy next to me – “Hey, jerk-o, which one of us do you think can take more giant steps through this line?”  Wonder how that would turn out?


The final in a series of Kiddo Travel Hacks where I share my best advice for not just surviving, but enjoying travels with kids.  Also check out the infant phase and toddler phase posts for other tips and tricks.