Heartbreak and Heros: Lessons from the Olympics by Annette Dashofy

Like many of us, I’ve spent a lot of time the last two weeks watching the Winter Olympics. 

With apologies to the hockey fans out there, that is the one sport I just can’t get interested in. Everything is very fast, but nothing much happens. I even prefer to watch curling, where everything is very slow. I don’t understand it, but all the plotting and planning fascinates me. It reminds me of pool mingled with chess. And with a little shuffleboard thrown in. 

Of course, the highlights always surround the Olympians themselves. Some come in with high hopes and expectations only to fall apart on the ice. 

Others are merely there for the experience with no thoughts of a medal and then skate the program of their lives and end up with gold. 

All of this makes me think of writing (because, let’s face it, everything makes me think of writing.) 

The Olympics are a prime example of how an otherwise ordinary story can become a page-turner with the use of high stakes and emotional investment. 

Take figure skating, for example. To some, the event is little more than people gliding around inside an arena, jumping and spinning, accompanied by music. And that may be the basis of the story. But pay closer attention to the skaters. Their expressions range from excitement to anxiety to effervescent joy. Dig deeper and we uncover the story behind the story. The recent death of a family member. The parents who were also figure skaters and who provided a lifetime of support, culminating in this moment. The skater who is known for having performed his heart out on a broken foot. 

Suddenly, there’s meaning behind the expressions. There’s heart behind the routine. We’re now invested in the results. Those skaters carry our own dreams and hopes with them. 

Even the music and choreography can offer lessons to the observant writer. Some skaters’ programs appear to only use music as a backdrop to the jumps and spins. A few, those who truly draw a viewer in, seem to sink into the music and the ice, taking us deeper. They don’t just tell us a story. They bring us along on the journey. 

I think writing an impactful novel is much the same. I’ve read some that provide a good story, like a skater who’s a skillful jumper, but it’s not enough. If they don’t add emotion to their performance—or to their novel—I don’t feel invested. I’m not compelled to keep turning the page. But when a writer takes the reader deeper into the characters’ hearts, lets us feel the longing to succeed and the fear of disappointing loved ones, I want to follow that character through all their trials and tribulations. I desperately hope they triumph. I weep when they don’t. 

This depth of emotion that draws us in and makes us connect on a heartfelt level is also why some stories stick with us days, weeks, sometimes months after we finish the book. Just like Ilia Malinin’s sorrow following his long skate continues to haunt me. Just like Danny O’Shea’s smile brings a grin to my own face simply by thinking about it.

 

So, fellow Writers Who Kill and readers, have you been watching the Olympics? Have there been any stories from the games that touched you deeply? If so, why?

I'll Take the Misspellings, Thank You Very Much

 By Shari Randall

The advertisement was meant to fill viewers with warm fuzzy feelings, but instead it made my blood boil.

 

If you’re watching the Olympics, I’m sure you’ve seen this ad. A cute little girl wants to write a fan letter to her idol, a track and field star. Her dad decides to use AI (I won’t name the actual company or program but it’s in the image) to write the fan letter.

Yes, our tech overlords think you should have your child use their AI product to write a fan letter to their idol. AI can take out all the pesky misspellings and grammatical mistakes that let you know a letter was written by small human, all those childish errors that tell you the message is straight from the heart. It boggles the mind that this advertiser doesn’t understand that it’s those mistakes that make the letters charming and precious, but it confirms my belief that most tech is created by people who do not spend much time around children. Most parents could predict that this ad would blow up, and not in a good way.

 

Here’s a real-life letter from my great niece, and let me tell you, every time I see “Ont Shary” instead of “Aunt Shari” my heart melts.

Back to this bone-headed ad. My dismay is compounded by a memory of a teacher telling us that “writing is thinking on paper.” So this ad basically says let this machine think for you. Not heartwarming, but chilling.

Many journalists and bloggers have flayed this ad, but a detail that some have missed is that it’s a parent asking AI to formulate the letter. (I have a hard time using the word “write.”) You can see the market for this product — the helicopter parents who worry about their child getting into a “good” school will have AI complete those pesky assignments so their kid can be assured an A. The kids won’t have to lift a finger, read anything, or most importantly, actually learn anything. With this product, children can sail through school with all A’s and learn nothing.

I know there are programs that can identify papers written by AI, but it’s an arms race and those with resources will always be able to stay a step ahead. Perhaps being less tech-savvy and poor will be an advantage. Perhaps those students will be forced to study, write their own papers, and actually learn something.

 

Yes, I sound like a scold, but I’m tired and I’m still mad because this tech behemoth used my first book without my permission to “train” their monster. Billions were spent developing this product, hours of work by the best-educated minds on the planet wasted on this instead of solving world hunger, poverty, illiteracy, or any of the myriad problems humanity faces.

It's funny, but as I was dictating this to my phone, the program refused to type the word  “learn” — ha ha, that AI knows what it’s about.

Before you get the wrong idea, I’m no Luddite. I have no trouble with machines telling me which ingredients to buy for a recipe or making my shopping list. But scientists have warned that a small section of the human brain that helps us with directions has shrunk because we are so reliant on GPS mapping. We know an increasing number of car crashes can be attributed to people mindlessly following the directions of their GPS and not the reality around them. AI is a crutch that can make us stumble to our knees.

 

UPDATE: The ad was pulled after blowback from viewers. The advertisement may have made me see red, but I’m glad it aired. Now we know what the tech companies are up to.

 

What’s your take on AI? 

Shari Randall writes the Ice Cream Shop Mystery series under her pen name, Meri Allen.

 

The Working Parents’ Olympics by Nancy L. Eady

As you probably know, the 2024 Summer Olympics are underway in Paris, France, except for the 2024 Summer Olympic surfing events, which are being held in Tahiti. Respectfully, I would like to suggest additional events to add to the roster of future Olympics that focus on more day-to-day type activities regular people participate in. We could call it the “Working Parents” division of the Olympics. 

Event One: Rush Hour Racing

Contestants begin at various points equidistant from the race’s end at the height of morning rush hour (for the qualifying heats) at the major city closest to the Olympic venue, with the finish line in the heart of the city’s business district. To provide a challenging twist, the race for the gold is held during Friday afternoon rush hour preceding a three-day weekend and is run from the business district to the suburbs. There would be time penalties given to contestants for road rage, swearing and any unfair tactics imposed on innocent drivers, but a contestant could also earn seconds shaved off of their overall time for successful management of stress and creative, productive uses of rush hour time.

Event Two: The Commuter’s Cup

Each contestant receives a carload of eight children with eight different activities to attend scattered across the Olympic venue. The task is to deliver the children on time to each activity; a contestant is automatically disqualified from the final round if the drive and delivery exceeds 45 minutes. The winner is the one that, in the final race, delivers the children to each designated activity in the least time. Shamelessly exploiting America’s inexplicable and insatiable appetite for reality TV, each car will be provided with a hidden video camera. To make the commuter cup races more realistic, two of the eight children must be related to each other, and there is at least one child secretly assigned the role of whiner and another secretly assigned the role of instigator.

Event Three: Grocery Store Relays

These races have both 400- and 800-meter races. The 400-meter teams are teams of 4, while the 800-meter teams consist of 8 parents. Each member of each team must complete a grocery shopping run in the shortest time possible.  The first four laps of the relay include a shopping list, $100.00 in spending money, and two children, although the ages of the children vary with each lap. To add the element of chance, during at least one lap of each relay race, randomly determined by drawing and hidden from the contestants, at least one child will demand an unexpected bathroom break.

The 1st lap includes a 1 and 2-year-old, the 2nd lap must be completed with a 3 and 4-year-old, the 3rd lap contestant races with a 5 and 6-year-old and (in the last lap for the 400-meter racers), the 4th lap comes complete with a 7 and 8-year-old.  To challenge the racers in the longer competition, the 5th lap will continue with two children, a 9 and 10-year-old, while the last three laps include one child, but with additional circumstances. The 6th leg of the 800-meter relay must be completed with an 11-year-old girl interested in leaving the store with one of everything she sees whether or not she needs it, while the 7th leg includes a tired 12-year-old girl or boy barely willing to move. Finally, the 8th lap must be completed with a hungry 13-year-old boy in a growth spurt – this situation challenges the contestants’ patience and wallet in one fell swoop!

Event 4: Multi-Tasking Muddle

Contestants are placed at various work sites with tasks to complete, some work related, some family related. The tasks require different skills ranging from negotiation skills to typing skills to budgeting. All tasks must be completed in less than one hour; the first contestant who finishes with the fewest mistakes wins the gold.

Event 5: Argument Arena

This final event in the first edition of the Working Parents’ Olympics provides the excitement of a table tennis match with the tension accompanying a scored event such as gymnastics. Teams of parents and children compete together, under topics such as “Room-Cleaning,” “House-keeping,” “Attending Other Events,” and “Activities Beyond Years.” The competition will be geared to different age levels – arguing with a two-year old (which bears a suspicious resemblance to arguing with a computer, except that the computer cries less and reasons more) is very different from arguing with a 13-year-old. Scores are based upon creativity of argument, tone (the less hateful and heated, the better), lack of sarcasm and use of humor. A parental contestant is disqualified if he or she uses the rejoinder “Because I said so,” while a child contestant is disqualified if he or she stomps a foot or makes a fist declaring, “You just don’t understand!” Each argument is restricted to three minutes. 

What do you think? Are there any events you would add or delete or change?  Anyone you care to nominate to represent their country in the first games?  Any children you are willing to donate to the cause? 

The Twisties and Writing

The Twisties and Writing by Debra H. Goldstein

As I am writing this, the Olympics are going on. In the past, I have been glued to my television to watch the various events, but not this year. Instead, I’ve been following the Olympics through internet news stories. Consequently, I’ve known who won before the events were televised. More importantly, I’ve had a chance to follow the different personal stories that the media has highlighted.

Obviously, the biggest story for Americans has been that of Simone Biles and the twisties. When it was announced she was pulling out of the all-around competition, I respected her for protecting her mental and physical health rather than trying to do something that could have resulted in serious injury (to this day, I remember Kerri Strug going for the gold but needing to be carried to the podium).

 

At first, though, like many, I questioned how severe the reason for her pulling out was, but as I came to understand the definition of the twisties – an inability for the mind and body to be synchronized; a loss of the sense of space and dimension in mid-air; the inability to tell up from down – I realized the profound sense of horror the twisties must mentally produce at the moment it hits. Reading more, I learned that gymnasts must relax and go back to basics until their mind and body once again become one.

 

In our way, writers often have a version of the twisties. Some call it writer’s block; some call it fear of writing something as good as a past story or book; some call it the inability to find words that meet the mental concept one has for a work. For some, the problem occurs at the beginning of a book, for others in the middle, and occasionally at the end. There are writers who only write one book because they never overcome their mental block. There are other would-be writers who never complete their first book for many reasons or excuses. In each instance, the writer is suffering from his or her own version of the twisties. The solution is often like that of the gymnast – relax, go back to basics, and then revise to fill in whatever is missing.

 

The solution is easier to summarize than to put into effect. What do you as a writer do when you have your version of the twisties? Readers, do you ever have a similar experience and how, if you are able, do you overcome your twisties?

It's a Small World

During the last two weeks while I watched the Olympics and read Tweets about the events, I realized it really is a small world—one that’s getting smaller by the nanosecond. With technology continually and instantly connecting us, I think we’re influencing each other in many new ways.

I don’t know if you watched the spectacular Sochi Olympics opening ceremony, but one performance stood out in my mind for a peculiar reason. A rather stoic Russian Police Choir (except for the main singers who grooved) performed the song, Get Lucky, by the French electronic music duo, Daft Punk, in English. I found it a rather bold song choice since it’s about, well, someone getting lucky. Granted it’s a catchy tune and won a Grammy, but I didn’t expect to see it performed in this venue…and by policemen.

The spread of popular music shouldn’t have surprised me. Gangnam Style, the pop song by South Korean musician, Psy, went viral and became a global hit. In the United States, Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood danced to it during the CMA Awards, Today Show hosts jived to the beat, and Halloween lights on some houses were synced to flash to the song. (Pity the neighbors as the light show was repeated over and over, all night long.)

I noticed another curious thing at the Olympics—fist-bumping. I had thought this was a uniquely American good-luck/celebratory action but apparently I was wrong. President Putin fist-bumped the Russian hockey team prior to a game. A Chinese athlete triple-fist-bumped (top, bottom, front) his coach before competing in aerial skiing. I expect he needed extra luck to jump 60 feet in the air, summersault multiple times, and land on his feet.

If this ritual began in America perhaps it went international in 2008 when Barack and Michelle Obama knocked knuckles in what the Washington Post called “the fist-bump heard ’round the world.” Maybe everyone should fist-bump instead of shaking hands to help prevent the spread of germs.

Speaking of around the world, my niece ordered a used textbook for medical school from an on-line bookseller. She monitored the book’s journey on her computer as it was sent from India, traveled to London, made a stop in New York, then arrived at her Philadelphia home. Surprisingly, it was more cost effective for her to buy a used book sent from another country than purchase a new one from the U.S.

Thank goodness for cable television broadcasting shows produced in other countries such as, The Artful Detective (Canada) and Sherlock (U.K.), into my living room. My favorite is Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries based on Kerry Greenwood’s excellent books set in the late 1920s. Unfortunately, this Australian series may be discontinued due to budget concerns even though they have a large audience. (Please, please, bring back Phryne Fisher for a third season!)

Maybe it’s not a small world after all, but a small universe. Olympic athletes who won gold medals on February 15, 2014, the anniversary of last year’s asteroid strike in Russia, will receive additional medals imbedded with a piece of the space rock. And, last November, the Olympic Torch went to the International Space Station and was taken on a spacewalk.

Do you feel the world has become smaller?