I should probably warn people there may be philosophizing, and possibly sarcasm. I’m writing this in the middle of the chaos that surrounds major releases where I work, and since I’m one of a too-small team of testers, it can get ugly. I’ve been shattering FDA-recommended maximum safe levels of sarcasm for days (and let me tell you, that safe sarcasm alarm gets loud).

So by now, it should be obvious I’m not talking about character perspective. I’m talking about the way a writer’s views of life find their way into everything they write, which is part of the uniqueness of their work. It’s really obvious for some, less so for others.

For instance, Chris works as an engineer, and he regularly shows how he approaches everything, including his writing, in an analytical, logical way. Dave has the kind of perspective you might expect from someone who’s managed to be on the ‘bad person’ list of both sides in South Africa, without ever actually being either side’s idea of a ‘bad person’. It’s amazing what ideas people get when someone does what they think is the right thing to do without respect to the current political theories. Sarah’s perspective comes from looking in from the outside as a misfit’s misfit, and me… well. There’s a reason my friends include both “weird” and “Kate-weird” in their lexicon.

What I see as blindingly obvious and something any idiot should notice usually… isn’t. In fact, usually it’s something that many people can’t find when led there in itty bitty steps. This may be because I have a talent for blundering into other people’s blind spots, and we instinctively defend those by refusing to accept that there could be any problem with them. It could be because one of my odd gifts as a software tester is to hit on the one configuration (and there are thousands of ways to configure the software I test) that will blow things up spectacularly. “What did you do that for?” is something programmers often end up asking me. Usually once they and I have worked out that my configuration wasn’t what everyone (including me) thought it was. (Usually I thought my configuration was pretty normal. Apparently, I couldn’t find normal with both hands, a map, and detailed directions. Possibly because you can’t get there from here).

I’m also sufficiently programmer-geek to describe temporarily-closed items as being “commented out”, not to mention using pseudo-code in everyday language – at times while making geologist puns from my geology degree.

All of this creeps into my writing in odd ways. I find myself thinking like a tester when it comes to working out where a story is going, right down to playing out various scenarios mentally to find the one that works. At least when I’m writing there actually is a right answer. Testing all too often doesn’t have one (or if it does, you can’t do it).

Which is a very fancy and roundabout way to say I usually don’t have to worry about thinking outside the box because I couldn’t find the bloody box if my life depended on it. That makes me a good tester. I guess I’ll find out if it helps my writing or not.