The thing I dread most in job applications is the IQ test. It’s my Achilles’ heel. One glance at those diagrams and numbers, and my eyes glaze over. Forget figuring out the patterns—I’d be lucky if recruiters didn’t label my brain “developmentally delayed” after seeing my score.

But I’d already taken the plunge, smitten with the idea of a writing career. So, like placing an apple on my head and praying the arrow hits the fruit and not me, I dove in.

The IQ and GMAT Hurdles

The passing score for the IQ and GMAT tests was 8/20. For the IQ portion, I had 20 minutes and managed exactly eight correct answers. My strategy? Scan the questions and tackle the number-based ones first, since I’m slightly better at math. Oddly, though, my results always showed more correct answers on the visual puzzles. Go figure. The remaining 12 questions? I filled in all C’s. Glancing at the papers of the two candidates beside me, I saw a sea of A’s and B’s. I sighed, muttering to myself, “Please, let me get those eight right.”

The GMAT? Piece of cake. Fifth-grade math was no sweat. While the other 25 candidates furtively tapped away on their phone calculators, I scribbled my answers and breezed through all 20 questions in a flash. Still, my heart pounded, knowing the real beast—the essay—was lurking ahead.

The Essay Challenge

Since I was applying for an editor position, the English test was rolled into the essay. (If I’d known, I would’ve signed up as a reporter instead!) The prompt floored me: comment on human indifference in modern life, using the cases of a Chinese boy brutally beaten by his stepmother, causing brain trauma, and Duyên Duyên, a girl run over by two trucks. I had to draw from three English-language articles and tie it to Vietnam.

I was stunned. I’d applied for the culture section, yet here I was, tasked with a social issues commentary? Was this about the “culture” of human interaction? I thought VnExpress’s culture section was all about celebrities and glamour. Why not a prompt on movies or celebrity fashion?

With no choice, I gripped my pen and tackled the topic from the tired angles of causes and solutions, fully aware it was a clichéd approach. My competitors were all journalism majors, and I felt out of my depth. All I could do was try.

A Few Final Notes

My handwriting is atrocious, so I made sure to start each paragraph with a clear topic sentence summarizing the main idea, hoping it would be coherent and complete.

I prayed I’d pass this round to have a story worth telling at the interview stage.

Stay tuned for part three, where I’ll share my wild interview at Diana with a CEO who threw some bizarre scenarios at candidates. Spoiler: I passed but turned down the job. Why? You’ll find out in the next post!