Arriving today in New York’s Pennsylvania Station — as any commuter, tourist, or local may attest — is a

degraded business. Previously, it was an awe-inspiring affair. Consider old Penn Station, a Beaux-Arts
masterpiece of imposing grandeur and soaring arches that once straddled an entire block. A
technological marvel, it welcomed weary travelers into midtown Manhattan until its merciless 1963
razing. But modern Penn Station — unlike its illustrious, state-of-the-art predecessor — is sorely
unequipped to handle its 21st-century demands. In fact, a (brief) visit confirms that Penn Station 2.0 — a
subterranean hellhole — lacks absolute coherence.

Henry Hsiao: My first order of business: Fashioning a compelling hook that would give readers a
“personal stake” in the review. This, admittedly, was a tricky task; I spent hours brainstorming leads. My
solution? Thinking about those who pass through Penn Station daily. Hence, my focus on the commuter,
the tourist and the local, a trio encompassing the majority of the transportation hub’s users. Everyone
can empathize with those roles — who hasn’t been a “tourist” or a “local” before?

And, besides getting my readers invested in the review, writing about Penn Station from this trio’s
perspective eliminated any critical snobbery; the commuters, the tourists and the locals “attest[ed]” to
the truthfulness of my statements, demonstrating my trust in and respect for them.

The other important move I made in this paragraph was juxtaposing the new Penn Station, which was
built in the mid-1960s, with its older, more glorious predecessor to highlight the enormous gulf between
the two: “degraded” vs. “awe-inspiring”; “sorely unequipped” vs. “state of the art”; “subterranean
hellhole” vs. “technological marvel.” By providing this stark contrast, I made my point about Penn
Station’s current woes more effectively.

A note: I relish description, yet occasionally overdo it. My first draft had five additional sentences on
Penn Station’s history. As agonizing as it was, I decided I had enough introductory information without
these details, so I cut them. Sometimes, painful sacrifices are necessary.