surprise – Scott Loftesness

I’m currently participating in the Writing Original Works class led by Nick Milo. One of the exercises in the class is for each of us to submit a short piece (less than 750 words, ideally 300 words or less) of original work each week.

As I was thinking about this assignment and what to write about, I reviewed some of my notes based on recent Kindle book reading highlights resurfaced to me in my daily email from Readwise. There were a few interesting ideas but nothing really grabbed me.

Meanwhile I was also in the midst of doing my daily reading sweep of some of my favorite online publications and came across “Tabula Rosa, Volume Four“, a recent essay by John McPhee, one of my all-time favorite writers. His latest piece is part of a series he’s written with snippets of scenes and moments that he’s collected over the years. They make for some delightful reading – especially in bed at night while preparing to get to sleep.

His latest essay included “Final Exam” – a story that triggered me to flip his story around and to write a brief piece of my own as viewed from being a student in his Princeton writing class. McPhee’s story takes place at a picnic which is the finale of his class. He writes:

“Passing out pencils and sheets of paper, I informed the picnicking class that the time had come for their final exam (an event of which they had not previously been aware). O.K., I would say, hoping and failing to shake them up, this is your final exam. Everything rides on it, including the honor system.”

That was my trigger. My mind started to work. What if I was one of his students and he sprung that final exam on me?

Here’s what I wrote:

The final exam was a surprise. He sprang it on us at the most unexpected moment. We had all anticipated getting A’s in the course. But now, he informed us that this final exam he was about to administer (on the picturesque lawn beside the library, basking in the warm afternoon sun) would determine our entire grade. What audacity!

He caught us off guard when we were at our most vulnerable state. We had been savoring the completion of a semester-long writing workshop, eagerly anticipating a much-needed break after weeks of relentless writing, editing, re-editing, and submitting assignments, followed by anxiously awaiting his feedback, those red pencil marks in the margins commanding our undivided attention.

Surprise strikes when it is least expected, emerging from the shadows to startle us to our very core. For a fleeting moment, we freeze, our minds racing to find an escape route. Fight or flight? How unfair is this? Why me, for heaven’s sake? Memories begin to intrude.

What exactly is the nature of this dreaded final exam?

Good fun!

Life’s a Honeymoon Bridge: A Hand Dealt Just for You

Amor Towles, the literary maestro behind “A Gentleman in Moscow,” throws a curious phrase our way in the epilogue of “Rules of Civility” – life’s a game of honeymoon bridge. Intriguing, right? Forget four partners and fancy bidding wars. Honeymoon bridge is a stripped-down affair, two souls huddled, playing with a deck stacked with the unknown.

In our twenties, when there is still so much time ahead of us, time that seems ample for a hundred indecisions, for a hundred visions and revisions—we draw a card, and we must decide right then and there whether to keep that card and discard the next, or discard the first card and keep the second. And before we know it, the deck has been played out and the decisions we have just made will shape our lives for decades to come.
Amor Towles, Rules of Civility

Makes you think, doesn’t it? Because life, let’s face it, is rarely a team sport. We navigate its twists and turns with a partner by our side sometimes, sure, but ultimately, the hand we’re dealt is ours alone. We hold the cards, good and bad, diamonds of joy, clubs of disappointment, hearts overflowing with love, and spades that sting with loss.

The beauty, and the burden, of honeymoon bridge is this: you don’t get to see all the cards at once. They’re dealt face down, one by one. A job offer, a heartbreak, a random act of kindness — each a surprise revelation. You play based on what you hold, strategize on the fly, hoping the next card complements your hand, not cripples it.

Think about it. That first crush, a nervous flutter as you lay down a tentative “hello.” The late-night study session, hearts pounding in sync with the clock ticking down to exam day. The thrill of landing your dream job, a high five with fate itself. These are the early bids, the initial gambles in this grand game of life.

But here’s the twist: unlike bridge, where the entire deck is eventually revealed, life keeps some cards hidden. You might yearn for a specific suit, a heart to mend a broken one, a diamond to replace a financial worry. But the dealer, that mischievous force we call destiny, has its own agenda.

So, what do you do? Do you fold, overwhelmed by the uncertainty? No, my friend. In honeymoon bridge, you play with what you’ve got. You learn to finesse the hand you’re dealt. A bad grade? Maybe it’s a wake-up call to explore a different path. A lost love? A chance to rediscover yourself and redefine what matters.

The key, as Towles suggests, is in that word “honeymoon.” It speaks of a time of joy, of new beginnings, of a willingness to embrace the unknown. It’s about approaching life with the wide-eyed wonder of a first kiss, a constant sense of discovery even when the cards seem stacked against you.

Sure, there will be moments of frustration. You’ll throw your hands up, wondering why you keep getting dealt rotten luck. But remember, even the worst hand can be salvaged by a clever play. A setback at work might lead to an unexpected opportunity. A health scare could ignite a newfound appreciation for life.

Life’s a game of honeymoon bridge, after all, not a high-stakes poker game. There’s no all-or-nothing final showdown. It’s a continuous flow, a constant dance with the cards you’re given. And the most skilled players, the ones who truly master the game, are the ones who learn to adapt, to find the hidden value in every card, even the seemingly useless ones.

Because sometimes, the joker you least expect becomes the winning play. A random encounter blossoms into a lifelong friendship. A layoff pushes you towards a hidden passion. These unexpected turns, these wild cards, are what make the game truly exhilarating.

So, the next time life throws you a curveball, a card you didn’t see coming, take a deep breath. Remember, it’s honeymoon bridge, not a battle royale. Embrace the challenge, assess your hand, and make the best play you can. With a little bit of strategy, a whole lot of heart, and a dash of that honeymoon spirit, you might just surprise yourself with the hand you build.

Life’s a game, after all, and the best players are the ones who keep playing, no matter what cards they’re dealt. It’s the journey not the reward.

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