The End is in Sight…. Farewell Hamline

This is it. One more day and I’ll have my MFA in hand and a noticeable amount of time now available to write things of my choosing. I don’t want that to sound like I’m complaining about the work I did in the MFA—many of my published short pieces came directly from assignments. But I do have drafts of four different novels that I haven’t had time to go back to, so this summer will include a fair amount of editing and revising.

But I’m just about done. Tonight I’ll read a portion of my thesis to what’ll probably be a medium-sized group of people, and then commencement is tomorrow. I even get one of those fancy hoods. Ooooh. 🙂

It’s crazy to think about what’s happened since I enrolled in the program. The plan was always to do one class a semester, but then covid hit and lockdown plus a two-year-old makes all plans go out the window. When I started, my son was one. He turned seven last month. When I started, I was working at a finance job I’d been at for over a decade. Now, three jobs later, I’m interviewing for teaching positions. When I started, Trump was president. Now… oh. Shit.

My first published piece resulted from one of my classes making me write creative non-fiction. Several fiction publications followed, and just a few days ago I heard that a poem—yes, a poem—of mine was accepted into a magazine. I didn’t write it as part of MFA coursework, but I did so while surrounded by MFA people.

I doubt I’ll divorce myself entirely from the program. Reading for Water-Stone will hopefully be a thing this winter, and the MFAC (children’s lit MFA) program has lecture passes that I’ve already made use of. Not to mention the people.

There aren’t many places where you can find people who can give good, quality feedback on your writing. I was lucky enough to find some in my wife and best friend, but they are just two people, and, as I learned after writing a horror story, they can’t be good readers for everything. But when you leave with your MFA, you also leave with a community.

I’m hoping life both will and won’t change. I hope it will so I can get those books finished. 🙂 I hope it won’t in that I might stop by Hamline’s Creative Writing house and chat with Meghan or I could attend events at which alums and students are reading. However it works out, the MFA was a wonderful experience and has transformed me from a person who sometimes writes into a writer.

Hamline MFA Under Attack

Twenty-two years ago I moved from Washington State to St. Paul, Minnesota, starting my adult life at the small liberal arts school, Hamline University. My expectation was that I would obtain an academic education (at the time I thought I was going to be a journalist) and that Hamline was the next step in my journey.

While I did get that academic education, Hamline also provided me with community. The culture was welcoming to all and the faculty and students were phenomenal, especially putting up with my ignorant, youthful bullshit. After graduation I lived with classmates, attended their weddings and baby showers, and they attended mine. I stayed in Minnesota because of that community.

Imagine my heartbreak when I heard that that very community was under attack. Hamline’s Creative Writing MFA program, the oldest and largest in the state, as well as its literary Journal Water-Stone Review, have been told by administration they will be sunset, and that no new students will be admitted. Given the age of the program and its integration in the literary community, both in Minnesota and beyond, this abrupt decision seems unfathomable.

If you’re unfamiliar with what sunsetting a program looks like, it means that all enrolled students will finish their degree, but as more and more graduate, the variety of course offerings will diminish as will their community of colleagues, with no new students joining the ranks to collaborate and learn with each other.

Water-Stone Review won’t even have the luxury of a slow death spiral. Its budget has been cut, and unless something changes, will become the next literary magazine to die. As one of the oldest print magazines still in production, Water-Stone Review is a very well recognized and respected magazine in the literary community, receiving Pushcart Special Mentions, and appearing in Best American Essays, Best American Short Stories, Best American Poetry, and Best Nonrequired Reading. There are even undergrads who come to Hamline because of Water-Stone and the promise of being a part of its production.

I understand that literary magazines and academics programs do fail from time to time. If this was a normal situation treated fairly and transparently, then there wouldn’t be an issue here beyond dismay. But there are some serious underhanded shenanigans going on by the interim administration, who for some reason seem to have it out for the program.

The normal process for sunsetting a program is to have the faculty vote on it, and then if that’s approved, it’ll go to the board for a final decision. Instead, the administration put out an announcement saying the sunsetting was going to the board, before the faculty voted. This obviously can’t happen, but what it does is sends a message to the faculty that it’s a done deal. Those who didn’t have an opinion on the matter might be swayed by this.

Do I think the MFA will go away? Probably not. The faculty seem to be supportive of the program and will hopefully not vote for its sunset. Water-Stone Review is another matter. The literary magazine has existed on its budget, a mere $26,000 when compared with Hamline’s profit of over seven million a few years ago (I don’t have access to the most recent tax returns) and that it pays its interim president over half a million. Obviously a very fiscally focused decision.

What’s particularly galling is that this underhanded effort to destroy the program and magazine is being spearheaded by interim administrators. Interim President Kathleen Murray and Interim Provost Andy Rundquist are both on their way out, permanent positions having been hired and starting in the fall. Yet these two have taken it upon themselves to target the program before they leave.

One of my classmates actually reached out to Interim Provost Rundquist to try and get clarification and understand his position. He was dismissive and unprofessional, and when she, a grant writer, offered to get funding to save the lit mag, he wouldn’t even acknowledge the idea. Like, refused to respond and address her.

So what is the MFA program doing about this? Obviously they’re fighting it with everything they have. I’ve read some communications that aren’t open to the public, and they’re giving it their all. The only problem is there’s only so much they can do. Will they save the program? Probably. It’s within their power to appeal to faculty for that vote. What is not within their power is budget decisions. The cutting funding for Water-Stone can happen regardless of the vote.

And it’s not like the MFA is asking for a lot. They’re not demanding a larger budget (which has been drastically cut since the interims have taken charge) or for any handouts. All they want is a delay in the decision. With permanent administrators starting in the fall, it is only right that they, administrators invested in Hamline’s future and not already walking out the door, weigh in on what happens to the program. If the new administration agrees it should be sunset despite increasing enrollment, and follows the proper steps with which to recommend and enact a sunset, then the MFA faculty will work with that. They only want a fair shake.

A third thing, which may not seem as important to someone invested in the arts but not specifically to Hamline’s program, is the termination of Meghan Maloney-Vinz. She is Hamline’s Creative Writing Programs Coordinator, meaning the MFA, BFA, and MFA in Children’s Literature, the latter two not currently at risk of sunsetting. She is also the Executive Editor of Water-Stone Review. She’s a graduate of the MFA program and has been with Hamline for years. Her institutional knowledge helps maintain the three programs, and her loss would hobble the MFA as it tries to prove its efficacy and worth to the new administration. And, knowing and working with her for the past six years, she’s a wonderful person.

Hopefully, even with this brief overview, you’re somewhere between annoyed and appalled at the actions of the interim administration. You may not have the same investment as I do, may not have your heart sink as you see someone trying to rip this community apart, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing you can do.

Sign this petition at Chage.org to show your support. If you have a personal connection, share that. The decisions haven’t been finalized yet. The board hasn’t met. If they see the community rallying around the program, they might choose to ignore the interim administration’s recommendation. And they might instruct the administration to leave Water-Stone and Meghan alone. But only if they know how important they all are. And they are important.

If you want to know more, here are some articles and a news report about what’s going on. And if you want to talk about or share a story here, by all means do so. I’ll be in LA in two weeks at AWP talking with many others in the professional writing and educational community, and hearing your and their stories will only help the MFA’s cause.

Interim-Administrators plan to sunset the Creative Writing Master’s program – Oracle

Administration makes detrimental change – Oracle

We Need Artists & Authors – Oracle

Hamline University could cut creative writing MFA – Local News

2024 Wrap Up and What’s Coming for 2025

I’m a couple of weeks late on this, and for that I’ll, without reserve, throw my kids under the bus. Just before and just after New Years I went to the emergency room twice (one a piece), and there’s just been a surplus of vomit in the house. Totally their fault. Especially since my wife and I got incredibly sick after that. And then the grandparents. Norovirus is nasty. Also, an unconventional way to kick start a New Years weight loss goal.

2024 was a big year, more on the life side than the writing side, but there’s always going to be a balance there. This biggest change was I have a new baby. She’s nine months old now, and since I’m stay-at-home-dadding, those nine months have seemed very long. Kara is now crawling (she fully figured it out when her brother was opening presents on Christmas Eve and she wanted them), and I can tell she’s itching to walk.

We also found out in March that two of my brother’s wives were also having babies in 2024. Knowing that, I tried really hard to talk a third brother into having a baby this year. He literally ran away from the conversation 🙂

I also started my MFA thesis this fall. I picked a project I’ve been thinking about for at least five years, the first of an eight book fantasy mystery series following a dark elf private detective. Feedback from my advisor had been great so far, and I’m about to start draft two as thesis wraps up this spring before graduation.

My most exciting writing news of 2024 came right after Election Day (which was a very timely piece of good news). I’ll give a brief bit of backstory first. Two years ago at AWP, I saw a literary magazine called F(r)iction. They fully illustrate their entire magazine, and beautifully so. I knew immediately that if I could be published in any magazine, F(r)iction would be it.

So I sent off a story to them immediately. I didn’t realize at the time that they had themed submissions, and so after nine months I got a rejection, saying it wasn’t a fit for their issue, but to please submit again. So when I saw one of their upcoming themes was Oceans, I had just the story for that (I stole a character from one of my novel ideas and tweaked their story a bit).

I submitted it on Nov 4, and on Nov 7 one of their editors reached out and said he loved it, and wanted to work with me to present to his higher-ups for consideration! Hot damn, was I excited. Then I did edits. And more edits. And was sent to the next level up. And then I did more edits. Finally, the week before Christmas, the story was pitched to the editor in chief and they said yes. I’m going to be in one of F(r)iction’s 2025 issues! Validation!

And not at the same level of excitement, but still exciting, another of my shorts was sent up the line in a different magazine, one where they do full audio productions of the pieces. So if that bears fruit, that’ll be amazing as well.

Sort of bookending the 2024/2025 holiday season, I worked with Water~Stone Review and the Scholastic Writing Award. For Water~Stone I helped screen fiction submissions for the upcoming issue. For the Scholastic Writing Award I was one of the regional judges for the high schoolers who entered their writing. Both had pieces that surprised me (pleasantly and otherwise), and offered good insights into the minds of other writers and their worlds.

Looking forward to 2025, a huge milestone will be finally completing my MFA. I started before covid, and only going one class per semester, it’s certainly taken some time. But when I finish, I’ll be ready with tools and time to really dive into this goal of writing as a career. Kara will be in day care starting August, so I’ll be able to have actual workdays where I can write uninterrupted. With no homework and no kids, I’m going to be more productive than I’ve ever been.

I’ll be going to AWP again in 2025. This year it’s in LA. I’ve never been to LA, and only last year went to California for the first time when my wife had a business trip in San Diego. I’m hoping with momentum from F(r)iction, as well as the other pubs I’ve had in the last couple of years, I’ll be able to make some good connections and find some doors to open.

TLDR: 2024: Had a baby. Started thesis. F(r)iction said yes. 2025: Graduation. AWP. Full-time writing.

Hope you all had a better (healthier) New Years than I did, and stay tuned for more news, books reviews, and random thoughts.

Why The Borderlands Movie Sucked… And How They Could Have Fixed It

For anyone who has had more than two conversations with me, it’s no secret that I’m a huge Borderlands fan. This is the game that got me into first person shooters. Borderlands 2 is only the second game that has made me walk away because of emotional storyline choices (FFVII popped that cherry in high school. Damn you Sephiroth). Borderlands has also provided my best multiplayer story experience (sorry Mario Kart and Smash Bros, you don’t really have a story).

So when this movie was announced years ago, I was excited. Very excited. Then the casting began. Jack Black. Cate Blanchett. Jamie Lee Curtis. Kevin Hart. Yes. This was going be amazing. Was I a little concerned about Cate Blanchett’s age in regards to Lilith? Yes. Did Kevin Hart’s height seem surprising given the massive physical presence Roland had? Of course. But having seen Cloud Atlas become a movie and Wheel of Time become a show, I was open to interpretation.

As well all know, the movie has been utterly destroyed by critics. Disheartening. On pace for one of the worst movie releases ever. Dream-shattering. But that created the perfect silver lining. If I went into it thinking it would be an abomination, then I was likely to enjoy it more than if I’d super-hyped it up. Right? Right?!

Borderlands was not a good movie. It wasn’t a terrible movie either. It was just a bad movie. The beginning was particularly bad, though it did get better as it went along. Why? I’ll point out very specific reasons that someone in the writing or editing process should have picked up on.

Warning! Spoilers are coming. I’ll try to only hint at big reveals in case you haven’t seen it, but I won’t be able to talk about this spoiler-free.

Problem One: Pacing.

This movie did not know what it wanted to be. Comedy/action? Straight action? Potty humor? Now, I’m not privy to exactly which parts were involved in the reshoots, but I’d wager a healthy sum it was focused on the beginning. It started out with Cate Blanchett exposition regarding Eridians and the Vault and for someone knowing nothing about the world of Borderlands, that would be very helpful. Part of me thinks they were trying to replicate her intro narration in LOTR. It didn’t work out.

The problem with narration is it slows everything down. Borderlands is a first person shooter. The most effective parts of this movie were when they leaned into that freneticism (something I’m assuming attracted them to director Eli Roth). The second problem with narration in film is that it’s often the sign of bad/lazy writing.

There are three moments of narration. The very beginning, a random bit maybe fifteen minutes later when Lilith gets to Pandora, and then a bit at the end. The middle narration was completely unnecessary. She tells us something happened, then we watch it happen. Then she tells us something happened, then we watch it happen. There’s that problematic writing axiom, show don’t tell. Regardless of how you feel about that, you definitely don’t do both at the same time.

The end narration was one of those contrived, moral of the story bits. No, it didn’t have a moral, but it told you how you were supposed to feel about what happened and where things were going. Audiences (arguably) aren’t dumb. We can form our own opinions. Don’t belittle us with that garbage.

The middle and ending narration were bad and shouldn’t have been there. That leaves the beginning narration. Can you have just the one segment of narration. Yes. Will the film be stronger without it? Probably. The reason I don’t like narration and find that it’s lazy, is most of the time that information can be conveyed during the action of the movie. We heard plenty of times that the Eridians were no longer there, that they left tech behind, and Vault Hunters sought the missing vault on Pandora. That takes out the entire opening narration right there.

The one other pacing thing I’ll mention, not even talking about the actual cutting and editing of the sequence of events, is as it relates to the tension of a scene or moment. Very serious, awe-inspiring Lilith flying around with fire wings? Probably a good time to throw Krieg in there with a 1.5 second gag line. Then back to the seriousness. What? Really? Who thought that was a good idea?

Problem Number Two: Continuity.

I imagine (or hope) much of the blame for this lies in the need for reshoots. Basically, there were several payoff moments toward the end of the movie that called back to earlier scenes in the film. The one that stands out the most was when Tannis offered Tina some tea. You could definitely tell this intimate moment was set up earlier. Except it wasn’t. I’m sure at some point there was a scene or set of lines involving Tannis and Tina and tea, but those lines didn’t make it into the final cut. The problem is that the emotional impact of the lines we did see was non-existent. Instead of an “awwww” derived from character growth, we just wonder why the celebration scene is being interrupted with tea? Every second of screen time is important. Why waste ten seconds on that line when it doesn’t mean anything to the audience.

Also, and this stemmed from an in-game joke, when they got to Sanctuary they all had to go up some stairs. I asked my friend at the theater, “how’d Claptrap get up the stairs?” And we both chuckled. Then later on there were stairs again and Claptrap started to do his “oh no, stairs” bit, and Krieg grabbed him and carried him. So they addressed the question/problem, but not when the question/problem first arose. Take the Sanctuary stairs out… perfect. Or have Krieg carry him in Santaury… works great. Ignore the stairs entirely and then do the stairs joke? Continuity problems. Things happen in an order for a reason. Understand those reasons.

Problem Number Three: Appropriate Level of Fan Service.

I admit this is a broad topic. In adaptations, anything and everything can be considered fan service. For the sake of this, I’ll break it down to three aspects: locations, dialogue, and characters.

I’ll start with the least offensive: locations. I actually quite enjoyed seeing the world of Pandora and everything that was included. From named locations like Fyrestone and Sanctuary, to the exact placement of bones where that one badass skag always comes from, or the fact that they jumped over Piss Wash Gully, those visual treats were subtle and hit the fandom just right. Now, did it make sense for them to brave the Caustic Caverns only to stumble across a bandit stronghold whose denizens clearly didn’t use the caverns to get there? Not one bit.

Next: dialogue. Knowing first-hand how hard acting is, I don’t want any of this to seem a judgment on the actors. I’ve said for a long time that the greatest struggle for independent films is good writing, followed by good audio, but that’s another issue. That being said, were there times when Eli Roth should have said, “Okay, let’s try that one again?” Yes. Beyond that, there were moments when Easter eggs were thrown into dialogue at the expense of the quality of the dialogue.

For example, there’s the moment when Lilith realizes she needs a vehicle, so she says she’s gotta “catch a ride.” That’s straight from the game, but it sounds utterly ridiculous in the moment. Another time, Tina asks Lilith to grab her badonkadonk. Another reference straight from the game. With the right setup, it might have worked. But it didn’t. Even knowing what that meant, the execution was terrible. Fans like having those moments appear in film and TV, but it has to be organically integrated, not shoved in half-assed. We want to experience the world. We don’t want you to wink at us every time you think you’re clever.

And speaking of Tina, though off topic, let her blow stuff up! That’s what Tina does. Sure she throws some grenades at the end, but she gave Bob to Roland, and the few explosions when we meet her seem situational, not character driven. Tina is bat-shit. Let us see that.

That leaves us with characters. I’m going to point out two poor choices, and two good choices. The poor choices (and there were more than just two) are Marcus and Krieg. It’s tricky, adapting a world with so many characters that so many people love. I understand wanting to satisfy everyone, but it can’t be at the expense of the story. Marcus had two real scenes. The first was picking up Lilith on the Vault Hunter bus. That is a classic callback to the first Borderlands game, and technically it served as a vehicle *ahem* to learn about Lilith’s feelings about Vault Hunters. But it ate up a lot of time and added nothing new to the story. We knew Lilith thought Vault Hunters were dumb. It played as an awkward scene shoved in for the sake of seeing the bus. His second scene was trying to barter with the Crimson Lance. That’s a perfect use for Marcus. Give him three lines (not just a split second visual like with Ellie). Show the audience that the people of Sanctuary stand together against the Lance. Advance the plot as our heroes try to escape. For people who know Marcus it’s “hey, it Marcus!” For those who don’t, it doesn’t matter. Because it adds to the world in a way that advances world-building and story at the same time, without taking us out of the moment.

The second poor choice was Krieg. I understand wanting the big dumb brute as a foil for pretty much everyone else, though the main contrast is with Tina. The problem is this big dumb brute lacks a face, only shouts, and only speaks in caveman garble. Combine the garble with shouting, and half of what he says (and that’s generous) is unintelligible. Does unintelligible dialogue advance plot or character or anything? No. Does a primary character with zero facial expressions work? Almost always, no. But I do like the idea of pairing a sensitive brute with a small child. Luckily, Borderlands has just the person for that. Brick! He’s big, he’s dumb, and man is he protective of Tina. Not only would we have understood him, but we would have seen actual emotion. And he could have addressed why he was on that Atlas ship in the first place.

There were two good character inclusions in the movie. The first is obviously Lilith. As much as she was underwhelming in the first game, her role in the subsequent games can’t be overstated. And then there’s Roland. Remember when I mentioned Borderlands 2 was one of the two games that made me emotional enough to walk away? Roland. God damn you, Handsome Jack.

In Lilith we get a central character that is meaningful for the gamers, while also being a fairly well-realized cinema character. Adding her mother (completely wasting Haley Bennett) and showing her prior connections to Tannis and Moxxi worked very well and her character arc in the movie was one of the best parts. Also, when she goes full Firehawk… hits the nostalgia so hard.

In Roland we get the jaded ex-corporate soldier. Roland’s character arc was lacking, likely due to the fact that he was intended as a supporting character to Lilith and Tina. But he was a great choice as a character to include. With better writing, we could have seen the corruption of the corporations (also negating the need for intro narration), and Roland’s setup as a Pandoran leader would have made sense on a practical and emotional level. There’s a reason his character was so pivotal in Borderlands 2. A sad note about him though… we never got to see him deploy hit turret. We see plenty of cool tech, and there are a couple of battles it would have been great in. Lilith got to phasewalk. Kreig almost always rampaged. But no turret for Roland. Missed opportunity.

These three problems I’ve addressed aren’t the only problems in the movie, they’re just three of the most obvious, and most easily fixed. The ease with which they could have been addressed is especially frustrating after waiting so long for this movie to exist. But it at least provides solace in knowing that a Borderlands movie won’t inherently be garbage. There is so much lore to pull from and so much opportunity for engaging storytelling, even if the movie doesn’t follow the game’s story.

TLDR: The movie was bad, especially beginning. Pacing, editing, and character usage were major problems.

I should say that the fights worked well, especially with the bandits in the tunnels and the main fight at the end. The chaos and unrelenting horde of meat fodder was very reminiscent of the game and very fun.

Would I watch it again? Maybe when my kid is old enough. Maybe just in the background so I can glance at nostalgic scenery. And, because I’m eight-years-old, watching Claptrap violently diarrhea bullets will never get old.

PS: When Roland breaks Tina out at the beginning, that was totally the perfect moment for a “little short for a Crimson Lance” joke. Right in line with Borderlands and much funnier than the short joke they put in later.

A Journey of 10000 Pieces

Some months back I found out I had a refund check owed to me by an old dentist. It wasn’t a ton of money, but I, my Lego obsession fully rekindled, joked with my wife that I should spend it on Lego. And not just any Lego, but the biggest one I could come up with on the spot. The Eiffel Tower.

For those who don’t know, the Lego Eiffel Tower set is a whopping 10001 pieces and stands about five feet tall. With a nearly two foot square base, it’s a massive set. And it comes with a massive price tag. Far more than my piddly refund check could cover, and far more than my wife would allow without looking up how to draft divorce papers.

But the joke had been made, and I’ve never been one to let a joke go, good or bad.

So when Christmas rolled around and we got some cash with which to buy ourselves presents, of course I had to champion the tower. My birthday was the following month. Eiffel Tower please. We got our tax return. Eiffel Tower! No such luck. Not that I was actually expecting it.

But then one fateful day, my wife got a promotion, and with it, a pay bump. I was out of town when the news came in, so I texted her “Eiffel Tower?!?!?!” Her response was immediate.

”Sure.”

Apparently she’d already decided that each of us should treat themselves (she got official Barbie roller blades and other paraphernalia), and was just waiting for me to ask.

As you can imagine, after much agonizing and debate, I ordered the Eiffel Tower.

I knew the box would be large. But I didn’t realize exactly how large. The giant cardboard box left at my doorstep could have fit a couple of small children, or one of those window AC units. Pretty sure my 100 pound German Shepherd would have been cozy inside. I opened the box to find… another box. Talk about building suspense, Lego.

Inside that box was the actual box. The big kahuna. I immediately took a pic and sent it to my family, who of course all knew the ongoing joke and that it was becoming a reality. I got several messages that for some reason had similar concerns.

Don’t do it all in one day.

Well, considering it’d arrived in the afternoon, and there were baby bathes and kid bedtimes to handle and stuff like that, doing it that day was out of the question. Had I received The Eiffel Tower at 8am and before becoming a parent, it totally would have been a single-day build, blisters be damned.

Back to the box(es). I carried the shiny new box upstairs where The Eiffel Tower would stand when completed and opened it up. Only to find three more boxes. Sooooo much cardboard. Each of the three smaller boxes seemed larger than any other single Lego box I’ve ever had. My inherently faulty memory and in-the-moment elation may have influenced that assumption, but if it’s not true, it isn’t by much.

And now: time to build.

Normally I do builds on the dining room table. But that’s downstairs, and no way was I going to carry a five foot tall tower up the stairs and risk it falling or smacking into something. So I built it. On the floor. I’ll be 40 years old next year. Do you know what sitting on hardwood floors for hours on end does to a middle-aged body? Let’s just say I was more sore from one night of building on the floor than I was from doing the world’s largest bouncy house non-stop with my kid for three hours.

Evening one was just the base and the first layer of supports. Those trees got a bit monotonous, along with the trusses running up and down the legs of the tower. Especially the trusses. I was a little confused as to the red and yellow pieces on opposite legs, but it made sense once I resumed the next day.

Build evening number two was cut short for reasons, and I was only able to get up to the blue pieces, not the smaller section of tower standing next to it. Part of the delay was just family stuff. Another part was something new for me with Lego sets.

Everyone so often there’ll be a piece missing from a set. Something at the factory didn’t go right and a small 1×1 plate will be missing. Lego is great as sending replacement parts if this happens, and it’s never really been a big deal, especially when my sorted inventory of pieces has a replacement I can use. This time, it wasn’t just one piece missing.

As most Lego builders know, there are numbered plastic bags that you open in order as you progress through the set. Inside those bags will sometimes be smaller plastic bags filled with a bunch of really small pieces. Bag 32 was once such bag. There were multiple small bags within. The only problem was that one of the smaller bags was the wrong bag. What that meant was I was missing not one, but ninety-six pieces. On the plus side, the wrong bag that was in there ended up being entirely extra pieces that found their way into my bins for future projects.

But I was missing a lot of pieces. What was I to do? First, I tried to find replacement parts for all the pieces. That sort of worked. All the pieces were that same dark grey color. I had plenty of the right type of piece, just not enough in dark grey. So The Eiffel Tower got a temporary paint job.

Each of the four sides looked like this. Luckily, this section wasn’t structurally significant, so when the replacement pieces arrived, swapping them out proved not too difficult.

When you go to the Lego site to request a missing piece, it’s an easy and basic form to fill out where you can look up the piece, enter your info, and boom, it’s on its way. But it was designed to replace one or two pieces at a time. Not ninety-six. Looking up and adding those one at a time would have taken forever, so instead I emailed customer service and explained the situation. After a couple of emails back and forth, the pieces were on their way. Super helpful and understanding.

While the actual, fully complete Eiffel Tower took a couple of weeks because of the replacement parts, I built the (with replacements) whole thing over three evenings. Part of me wanted to see if I could speed build the thing. I looked up the record for the set’s fastest build, and it is 9 hours, 14 minutes, and 32 seconds. I didn’t use a stop watch, but even with the hunting for replacement parts and constant shifting on the floor as my hips let me know how unhappy they were with my life choices, I don’t think I was too far off from that mark. If I assembled everything from a comfy chair at the table and had the proper pieces waiting for me… it could happen. I’ve always thought I was a speedy builder, and if I ever felt like disassembling and reassembling all 10001 pieces, I might have to give the record a go.

Now that it’s completed, it’s standing tall in the corner of my office. Before it arrived, I had briefly thought about using it as a bulletin board, hanging up character and plot ideas for later, but once I assembled it I realized the top was far too narrow for that. So instead I just have to lean this way or that to see my whiteboard notes. I can live with that. 🙂

Oh, and the red and yellow pieces? Elevators to the various observation decks. Zoom in and you can see them at intervals inside the tower. And lastly, all Lego sets are built using the same catalog of pieces. The colors can be changed easily enough, and yes, they’ll occasionally make new pieces for sets if needed. But there’s a thing called nice part usage, where you take a piece and use it for something other than what it was designed for. My favorite nice part usage in this set was the sausage. The thirty-two sausages.

Because of the Paris Olympics I really want to surround this with micro-builds of Olympic events. But I’ve not nearly the time or bandwidth for that. Sad. But that’s all for today. Hope you enjoyed my little journey, and if you’ve any fun builds or Lego stories to share, feel free.