aan Ledoux 1 Ben Ledoux Ms. Lindgren Creative Writing ~ Period 6 8 February 2016 Memoir Fragment bar Ll a az aan obo Everyone Ys always a bit unsure of what to expect going into freshman year of high \We The wore choice school, and I was no exception, | known that I had a knack for computers for a while, but I had no clue what { wanted to do with them in the future. That year, ifan elective had anything to do remotely with computers I would be there. { ate my lunches, did my homework, and spent my free time in the ATL, Theféit allowed me to better narrow my exten silks watiaite for the programming side of computing, | had decided to devote my time to the study of various 4 ‘computer languages and web design. Though I had done many mock projects through onlineLedoux 2 sleep. The music itself was actually a single song, Bartholomew by the Silent comedy, set on repeat for hours on end. While some would dread this work, | find that I actually quite enjoy the long nights and stressful deadlines. They help to provide me with extra motivation, which, in my opinion, makes the quality of my work improve. It also gives me an opportunity to ensure that my methods, both academically and in my personal life, are organized and efficient.Ledoux 1 Ben Ledoux Ms. Lindgren Creative Writing ~ Period 6 14 February 2016 Memoir Fragment {had gotten less than four hours of sleep that entire week. My eyes, already bloodshot themselves, had developed dark blue rings, making it appear like they had sunken into my skull. Either by some error of my own, or through forces beyond my control, it was the final day I had to work. It could have just been a simple PowerPoint, | could have chosen the easy route and just done the project as it was assigned. Instead | had to make the choice to “go the extra mile” and ‘over complicate things. “I've been studying how to make video games for the past year. My lunches are spent in. ‘the computer lab. Piece of cake” I said to myself'a week beforehand. “Oh Past-Ben, you naive moron,” I thought as I glanced to left, eagLedoux 2 {returned my focus to the laptop screen sitting in the foreground of my bleak landscape. Music was blasting in my ears; just quiet enough to not awake my slumbering parents in ‘the room adjacent, but loud enough that it would be impossible for me to accidently drift off to sleep. ‘The music itself was actually a single song, Bartholomew by The Silent Comedy, set on repeat for hours on end. The near-spoken lyrics and repetitive base drumbeat reminded me of the cliché scene featured in every war movie. Where the protagonist and his brothers in arms are in basic training, marching up the mountain, singing in beat to the pounding of their boots. Every ‘beat was a click on the track pad or line of code on the keyboard. The chorus, the symbolic: culmination of all the game developers, my brothers and sisters in arms, working overtime alongside me, vibrated through my bones. I had also chosen Bartholomew as it had been the Score of various trailers for video games, Darksouls being the most notable. The repetitive nature and personal meaning helped to remind me of the real reason why I subjected myself to this, Because despite all the long hours into the nights and the enormous effort exerted on my part, the game was, for lack ofa better term, utter sh*t, and I knew this, I knew it since a Particularly frustrating 1:00 am four nights prior. I had beaten myself up over it, cringed whenever I tested it, and improved what I could in the time given, " Put so much time and effort into creating something that's bad?Ledoux 3 sure they may understand some of what's going on, but in the end, their speaking two different languages. This is also not for a lack of trying on my part though, I do truly want to communicate with people, but I just never could, This changed for me when | discovered the true Potential of what video games can offer. When you give and sacrifice so much of yourself in order to create a game, the computer evolves from a simple machine into a sort of vessel, Pieces of me reside within the game, we share the same flaws and qualities. As you have trouble controlling the character, I can’t seem to ever grasp control of my life. As you try to wrap your mind around the confusing level design, I try desperately to comprehend the world around me. As you look and critique the poor, the erude design of the game, I look and critique my own appearance, which, like the game, often appears to be a low effort attempt and gives the sense of being poorly put together. The music, all from specific video games, tells you more about my interests. The topic matter, the inside jokes, and {just the fact that I attempted to make a game, all allow for a picture of my own image to be painted in the players mind. Bartholomew wasn’t keeping me awake for hours past midnight, the threat of a bad game that drove me, because I knew in the end it would have flaws. No,EN ee Ledoux 4 classmates learned more about me in ten-minutes than if they eaten lunch with me for every day that year.Only a mii \ead iia Yad Creative Non-Fiction Period 6 Hts 4 April 2016 Developed Memoir - Workshop Two Thad gotten less than four hours of sleep that entire week. My eyes, already bloodshot themselves, had developed dark. blue rings arv im. Like they had sunken into my skull. Either by some error of my own, oF thro beyond my control, it was the final day Thad to work, It could have just been a simple PowerPoint, | could have chosen the easy route and just done the project as it was assigned. Instead | had to make the choice to “go the extra mile’ and ‘over complicate things. As | tumed towards my classmates, the pale fluorescent lights of the biologyPe AE ;' = v Qoh Past-Ben, you naive idiot! thought as, glancing to my left, | attempted t0 find and snating from the display of eliminate the source of my distraction. The “rebeceapy marking my atomic, Sony DREAM MACHINE alarm clock had dimmed a the darkness of my bedroom. Realizing that, the change of the hour as glaring as church bell: despite my bes efforts as a child, I did not gain the superpower to control the low of time, and how, though I played the song of time on numerous occasion, my replica ocarine did not have ths saine magical power the original, | granted myseif brief « moment vo come 12 Sn swith the erushing futility of my position “T've been spending my lunches in the ATL” a technically true statement with little ‘meaning attached in reality.|°I've been sleeping in a bed” is an ‘equally valid statement reresets just as mh my silt gare development} SQM S Unrel or ‘The moment of reflection [allowed myself was truly only a moment, as T knew my ele made worse by taking time to dwell on these thoughts. Massaging the position could only be weariness out of my eyes vtured my focus tothe laptop sereen sitting in the foreground ofLedoux 3 brated brothers tind alate brothers and sisters in arms, working overtime alongside me, vil h my bones. Despite all the long hours into the nights and the effort exerted on my part, the game WAS, for lack of a beter term, uter sh*t, and I knew this. knew it since a particularly frustrating 1:00 am four nights prior, I iad beaten myself up over it, cringed whenever I tested it, and improved ‘what little Leould in the time given. Why even bother then? Why put so much time and effort into creating something that's so bad? Thave hed issues interacting with people. Unlike programing or math, social situations and small talk just don’t come naturally to me. I's like putting a Latin student in a Spanish class: is sore they may understand some of what’s going on, but in the end, their speaking two different = Janguages. This is also not fora lack of trying on my part though, I do truly want 10 "communicate with people, but I just never could. But, when you pour hours and hours of your life into something, when you put