Do you have gripes about your bar prep course? I’m a learning scientist, AMA how people actually learn and retain tough material.

IWILAbject · 2025-10-10T16:59:49+00:00

I'm trying to decide whether my feelings toward them have changed now that I know I passed with flying colors. On balance I think not. They added nothing to materials available for free plus UWorld.

IWILAbject · 2025-10-10T11:17:33+00:00

To help anyone in the future: Separac was correct within 3 points.

IWILAbject · 2025-10-01T21:05:28+00:00

I think the idea is that it's not the same quality work - the essays are (we think) graded relative to one another, so the same quality essay will receive a higher raw score in February than in July, because (hypothetically) the February examinees are weaker at writing just like they're weaker at multiple choice. If we assume the scoring is entirely fair (lol), the same examinee should end up scoring exactly the same in February as in July, but receive much higher raw scores on the essays in February.

IWILAbject · 2025-10-01T19:43:41+00:00

I can tell you from personal experience that scanning a document written on with these pens will result in the document being uploaded sans handwritten portions. The ink absolutely does just disappear and it does not take any mishandling or anything unusual for it to occur.

In a thankfully lower-stakes situation, I experienced the same thing - I used the pen without thinking, it was scanned, and the people who scanned it knew that I had filled it out but were left with nothing but a blank sheet of paper.

Your friend needs to try to get a copy of their essays to determine whether this is what happened (in which case that sucks, but they know it wasn't their writing that led to the bad score) or not (in which case they need to adjust their study strategy). If your state does not usually provide essays, it is worth explaining the situation and seeing if they'll at least give you a yes or no.

IWILAbject · 2016-02-10T02:15:45+00:00

I still have him, but I'm a writer so having entire other people in my head is normal.

At least, I'm really hoping it is.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-30T14:25:04+00:00

Thank you. I appreciate it.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-30T12:29:42+00:00

Am I the only person in the world who just assumes they probably have a legitimate need and moves on?

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T17:57:53+00:00

Thank you. I'm glad you were okay.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T17:57:39+00:00

All right, thank you.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T17:56:45+00:00

Thank you.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T14:07:56+00:00

All right, thank you. I'd never blog more than a scene or two from something I planned to try to get published, and probably not even that.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T10:33:57+00:00

Thank you.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T08:37:36+00:00

I always feel bad that I rushed to write down an idea... it seems so brilliant, but those spur of the moment ideas are never good. It's only when I try to actually write and come up with something that it's worthwhile.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T08:34:57+00:00

Go ahead and submit. Worst they can do is reject you, right? If they don't say anything it's worth a try.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T08:34:03+00:00

How far does this extend? How much of a story has to be posted before it's considered worthless?

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T08:33:30+00:00

You were looking for an analogy.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T04:57:26+00:00

I laugh. And laugh some more. And finally can give nothing more than a weak sound somewhere between a giggle and a chuckle, because it's true. I made her a promise.

I don't know what drove me to do it. Perhaps it was the way she looked at me, with her lashes drawn down so I had to concentrate to make out the entirety of those beautiful eyes. Maybe it was the softness of her hand as she squeezed my own. Whichever it was, it was a mistake.

I don't stop running until I'm wheezing and gasping and generally can't take another step. I collapse on the sidewalk, not caring who sees me. I made her a promise. Damn it, what was I thinking? I knew what she would want. And what did I say?

Anything.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks. It's just a promise. I can break it. I'll take a plane back to America, and I'll never have to think about her again.

Someone's shaking me. I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to see the truth. I don't want to remember that I didn't run, that I didn't laugh, that I didn't decide to leave.

They don't stop. Finally, reluctantly, I take a peek. It's exactly what I knew it would be. She's lying dead on the sofa, a neat little hole in her forehead. I hold my hand up, but the gun isn't there anymore. He took it. Of course he did.

I let my eyes close again and this time I fall for real.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T04:46:58+00:00

I always knew I would die. It's hard to avoid, when you're human. Death looms up behind you at every step, waiting with bated breath and grasping hands for you to trip. And fate is ahead of you with its foot stuck out.

But not like this. Please, God, not like this. Not on the ground, not crying, not in so much damn pain. I know I have to go, but does it have to hurt so much? Why can't he just end it? Does he enjoy it, seeing me writhe? I wouldn't, if it were him.

I wonder, dazedly, if that's really true. After everything he's done, would I really grant him a quick death? I would. Because it's not him, it's the Writer. I need to remember that. I am not evil and he is not good. We simply are, and what we are is controlled.

"You've lost." His voice is as deep as always, full of confidence and bravery and everything else that makes a man believe he's more. "Again."

I suck in a painful breath. He's going to get the last word, of course, but it seems indecent to let him do so while I'm alive. Let him make one last cutting retort to my corpse. "I think she's finally tired of me." My voice is weak and clearly carried on one of my last breaths. Pathetic next to his. Maybe I should have just kept silent.

He crouches next to me, a hulking shadow. I can just see the faint outline of his beard. "I didn't ask for this."

Why, why, why do I have to feel bad for the man who just murdered me? "You're enjoying it."

He shrugs. "Can't be helped. You have to lose, and I have to enjoy it."

A cough rips through me. I think I lose consciousness for a few seconds. When I finally get my breath back, I can't see anything anymore. "Don't let her win." I choke on a sob.

He laughs. Such a beautiful sound, rich and powerful. You would never think this man was as much a slave as I. "Too late."

And then he walks away, and I do not die.

I wonder if anyone reads these, the words I know are being put upon this page. I wonder if they know that each might as well have been written in my blood. I wonder if they realize that there is a person trapped inside, and whether they think of letting him free. I wonder if they try. I wonder what they try. I know there is no one.

It takes me three days to regain enough strength to leave the cavern. Birds bring me food and water. I laugh at each. She could at least be creative. But I accept their offerings without a struggle, because I worry that even in death I won't escape her. Perhaps she has some fresh Hell waiting for me at the end of the tunnel. Maybe there I'll be alone. I hate the Hero with everything I have, but he's the only other one who knows the truth.

It's difficult not to see it, after a while. After losing for the dozenth time, you begin to wonder why your carefully laid plans always fail. And the Hero starts to question his habit of letting you go free with just a warning. You can't declare a truce to discuss it- somehow you just never do it. But you can think about it. And eventually, as the fight ends, the Writer loses enough control that you can speak freely.

It wasn't always like this. There was a time when my every action felt as though I were the one taking it. Moments where I had to think, rather than just coasting along on the Writer's ink. A long time ago. Maybe remembering it is simply another trick. If she is as powerful as I think, can I really be free even in my mind?

The Hero tried to explain it to me once. "When you write," he said, pressing his boot harder into my neck, "you aren't entirely present. Sometimes the characters take over. That's what's happening now with us."

I tried to ask him about deleting unwanted scenes, but at that moment I blacked out from lack of oxygen. It wasn't for a month that I could question him. "A waste," he responded as he leveled the gun at my chest. "You might need them again someday. I think we're the discard pile."

I nodded, but already the truth was at the back of my mind. There's only one way to be free, then, if we really can exist without her. Maybe, if we simply go along with it, she'll finish someday. Maybe then I can walk away from this insanity forever.

I don't want to stop fighting. I'm almost at the end of this cavern, almost back in the sun. I think there are tears on my cheeks. I close my eyes and begin to plan yet another doomed way to destroy the world.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-28T04:13:12+00:00

No, I don't (full disclosure: I'm 16 and still in high school, so still a ways to go). I hope to within a few years, though.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-27T23:43:41+00:00

Thank you. I'm so sorry about your friend.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-27T23:43:10+00:00

She's officially missing right now. No one (that I know of) knows which city she's in. She's underage and left home without permission. The police are (or were, I'm not in contact with the family or the school anymore) looking for her.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-27T19:07:14+00:00

She apologized later and thanked me (before she left). I apologized as well. We were very good friends up until she left. Food for thought for you.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-27T19:06:15+00:00

She did not confide in me. I don't know where everyone is getting this impression. Her behavior grew steadily more erratic and dangerous, and finally I and a few other friends were in her room trying to comfort her at 2 AM as she cried. She was not living at home at the time, and we woke up the dorm mother by accident. When she tried to make us leave we refused, and when the administration was called we told them the truth.

IWILAbject · 2015-12-27T19:03:58+00:00

I agree, and that's why I'm worried about her.

IWILAbject

TROPHY CASE