What’s Your Biggest Weakness?

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With the big contest reveal coming tomorrow I thought a departure from the usual theme would be a good idea. A friend of mine recently interviewed for a job, and while it went really well, there was one interviewer who was hell bent on asking some really off-the-wall stuff. Well, if you’ve heard the expression “There are no stupid questions” before I’m here to politely inform you that there are, and if you’re a certain type of interviewer you’re probably asking them.

When conducting an interview, hiring managers always want to make sure they are getting the right person for the job. Candidates often come so well prepared and polished that it can be very difficult to get a good read on someone just from a couple hours of talking through the standard set of questions. Many companies will try to put candidates through a veritable gauntlet of interviews, with 4, 5, 6, or more people each getting 30-60 minutes to lob question after question, scenario after scenario at them; looking for hidden faults, but more often looking for a spark of genius.

No doubt you’ve all read stories about some of the fabulous questions that the likes of Microsoft and Google have asked their potential employees. Many of these are extremely well thought out, but are also remarkably unconventional and designed to help ferret out specific nuggets of information that would be otherwise hard to extract if they were to keep to the same sort of predictable script.

I was a co-op student at the University of Waterloo, so I’m no stranger to job interviews and some of the crazy questions that one can encounter. I was also a hiring manager for software development and testing for over a decade in a variety of industries. I’ve tried to come up with a list of generic questions relevant to each position with limited success, but one thing is certain: I outright refuse to ask certain questions, simply because they are stupid. That may come off as a bit flippant, and I don’t necessarily mean stupid in the strict dictionary definition of the word, but nevertheless there are just some questions that aught not to be asked in a job interview.

For starters, don’t ask people riddles. At least, don’t ask riddle-type questions for which you already have an answer in mind. A friend interviewed for a job as a statistician and was asked, “How many piano tuners are there in New York City?” Initially, this would seem like a really stupid question, but it wasn’t because the interviewer didn’t want a precise answer. Answering 1328 versus answering 472 was inconsequential when compared with how the question was answered.

I’ve been asked how I would build a clock for a blind person. After several minutes of me trying to understand the requirements (example: plug in vs. battery operated vs. wind up) I was told, “Just take the glass off a regular alarm clock.” The person’s tone was incredulous as well, as if I had deeply offended them by not knowing the answer. This was a stupid question, with an even stupider expected answer (every time you check the time you’ll change what time it is!).

Questions like this remind me of those Mensa questions or silly things you see on Facebook. “What’s the next symbol in the sequence?”, “Which number comes next?” These are little more than party tricks that, once you’ve seen a couple, you can figure out the answer without having to even think at all, let alone showcase practical life skills.

How about this? Interviewers of the world listen up! Instead of asking seemingly open ended questions that are just riddles in disguise, how about you take a minute and put on your thinking caps for a change and ask your candidates questions that allow them to use their knowledge and experience to provide a solution to a relevant problem.

Remember, that with so many highly skilled and talented people out there, the likelihood is that they are interviewing you just as much as you are interviewing them and we wouldn’t want you to look stupid, now would we?

~ Andrew

 

When Make Believe Is All That Remains

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“Science is the belief in the ignorance of experts.”
– Richard Feynman

I’ve mentioned in a previous post the one of the benefits of being a writer is you get to make stuff up. There is a serious problem, however, when wordsmiths of a different kind resort to making stuff up a tad more often than they should. I’m speaking of the scientists, the government, and the media – the ones who synthesize, distill, and report findings; who direct funding for research and make policies; and who relay information to the masses.

When Canada voted against science I was right there standing up and crying foul. Like many others my initial impulses had me all a Twitter (and a G+ and a Facebook). This is an outrage! Will no one come to the defence of science? At the very root of my anger is my belief that objectivity and truth still exist and not enough people are fighting for them.

I turned almost immediately to Gordon Bonnet, who, along with being a science teacher down in the States, also writes a great blog called Skeptophilia. In a matter of hours he turned around a much less knee-jerk response with the message that data, in of itself, cannot have an agenda. The problem is politicians and media outlets do, and I would assert that out of self-preservation (and the fact that they are human) scientists have one as well. However, the scientific agenda is normally kept in check through critique and review by one’s peers. When that process gets handcuffed, well, all bets are off.
“The only thing worse than a blind believer is a seeing denier.”
– Neil deGrasse Tyson
A friend with whom I like to debate such matters pointed out that “the human soul is corruptible.” Indeed it is, but that’s a sociopolitical discussion for another day. He also pointed me to this Maclean’s article which happens to be a a very level-headed take on things. The author, Julia Belluz, sums it up by suggesting that scientists raising a stink in the form of 60’s style protest aren’t doing themselves any favours, and on this I have to agree. 
Everybody involved appears to be approaching it all wrong. I am left to wonder though, if that’s the wrong way, what the hell is the right one? As the maxim goes, if insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result, then what happens when you’ve tried every approach you can think of and still nothing changes?

It seems that people on both sides of any argument go though this eclectic transition of approaches. The precise order and length of each one is impossible to determine, but the following popped into my head as a plausible chain of events: 
  • Start with the presentation of pure facts. 
  • If that doesn’t work, involve your peers to provide supporting information and try to open a dialog. 
  • If that doesn’t work, then compare and contrast opposing ideas in the form of debate. 
  • If that doesn’t work, then start removing facts and bring in “expert opinion” and hype. 
  • Finally, if that doesn’t work, resort to pure, unadulterated propaganda and rhetoric. 
  • If all else fails simply resort to sarcasm and ridicule (enter social media).  

This is pretty much where we’re at right now, and quite frankly I think this tailspin makes a complete mockery of it all and just ends up dragging everyone down to the same subhuman level, leaving slander and lies as the only pieces left on the board.

“The great thing about science is that it’s true whether or not you believe in it.”
– Neil deGrasse Tyson
Maybe I’m naive to expect more out of professional conveyors of information, but when it’s all reduced down to a contest over who can out crazy who it makes you wonder if the people who make stuff up for a living aren’t the sanest group in the whole lot.
Next election I’m voting for a writer.
~ Andrew

Losing Vern

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Birthdays have been tough since 2009 as it seems every one is a reminder of losing Ryan. Truth be told, very few days go by where one of us doesn’t remember him in some way, so it’s not so much the actual day as it is just one more reminder. I take solace in the fact that there were so many wonderful things to remember. 

So, another year passes. Loss helps me keep perspective: as long as I keep having birthdays things can’t be all that bad. As the saying goes – every day on this side of the grass is a good one! Thank you, Ryan, for showing so many of us how to appreciate living, how to love with all our hearts, and how to laugh as often as possible (especially at ourselves).

Remembering Legends

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Last week Canada lost a legend of music in Stompin’ Tom Connors. Best known in this country for his slap shot hit, “The Hockey Song”, Stompin’ Tom’s music was enjoyed coast to coast by just about every Canadian stereotype you can think of. He died a member of the Order of Canada, with flags flying at half mast at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa.

Everyone loved Stompin’ Tom. When he met Queen Elizabeth II at a dinner he outright refused to remove his trademark black Stetson and Buckingham palace came to his defence by likening it to a religious headdress so as to not cause a scene. So what was it about Stompin’ Tom that made him so gosh darn lovable?

He smoked 3 or 4 packs of cigarettes a day and drank just as much, but that didn’t matter. He wrote songs that spoke to Canadians of every age and of every background. He sang about things that people could relate to. Based on their titles alone you can get a sense of what his songs were like.

  • “Bud the Spud”
  • “Ketchup Song”
  • “Snowmobile Song”
  • “Tillsonburg”
  • “Moon-Man Newfie”
  • “Fire in the Mine”
  • “Canada Day, Up Canada Way

My personal favourite, “Margo’s Cargo”, is a song written about what can happen when you take a piece of cow shit and turn it into a wall clock:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0dzMeDm8AU?rel=0]

His nickname may have been Stompin’ Tom but I prefer to refer to him as The Canadian Legion’s Dr. Seuss.

They say you’re supposed to write about what you know; that if people can associate with something they are more likely to appreciate it. My friend Jim Tigwell wrote a song that exemplifies this concept really well. Taking ideas from Twitter, Facebook, and his own brain, he wrote a song about all the things you could do with a simple cardboard box. Everyone can relate to the unmitigated joy experienced by playing with a brand new, kick-ass cardboard box. Have a listen – the song starts at 2:29.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNXJDiZhJFY?rel=0]

Andy Warhol’s art defined a genre, if not an entire generation. His most iconic image is that of a simple can of Campbell’s tomato soup. One of the Barenaked Ladies’ most popular songs answers the question “What would you do if you had a million dollars?” with answers of Kraft Dinner, faux fur coats, “K” cars, and Dijon ketchup.

All of this got me thinking: What do I know? I am writing a novel, the topic for which I am certainly familiar, but I wouldn’t say that I “know” any of the concepts any more than anyone else with access to Google. Maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time with some of it. I am doing more research than I thought I would have to and that’s hampering progress. I think it will great for the finished product, but it’s certainly not doing much for my word count!

This is the time of year where I remember a dear friend and family member who passed away on my birthday in 2009 and one story I do know, and know all too well, is the story of what happened in the days following his death. From March 13th to 17th a unique series of events transpired that, in looking back at it, has me shaking my head and laughing. If you subscribe to any sort of afterlife theory you can imagine Ryan following us all around and laughing his ass off at what was going on. Last December I wrote about it and submitted it to the Orange Karen Anthology – and it was accepted.

Maybe there’s something to be said for writing about things with which we are familiar. Maybe “they” were right after all.

Today we say goodbye to two legends: Canadian music icon Stompin’ Tom Connors; and my brother-in-law Ryan. Two souls forever linked together in a blog post and by the fact that the memorial service for one will be taking place on the day we lost the other.

We remember Stompin’ Tom’s lyrics, his black Stetson, and all the toe tapping, hand clapping enjoyment he brought into our lives. We remember Ryan; who had the heart of a giant, the compassion of a child, the soul of an angel, and laughter so honest and pure you you’d swear it was the best music you’ve ever heard.

We remember them, and all the other people who have shared their lives with us, even if it was just a small part. We thank them for opening up and letting us in and for giving us all something worthwhile to write about.

~ Andrew

So I Stopped Wearing Socks

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Two weeks ago I was talking about the birth of ideas. Strangely enough, in a perfect example of how some of my ideas form, I was working on a post about motivation and another idea popped into my head. It went something like this:

  • I wrote that I hoped there would be “more ideas to come” and I knocked on wood.
  • That made me think of superstitions.
  • That made me think of Friday the 13th, which happens to be the day on which I turned 13.
  • That made me think of my birthday in general, which falls on the 13th of March every year.
  • Which reminded me that my brother-in-law died on my 35th birthday, which was also a Friday the 13th.
  • At the time of his death I was living in Ottawa and for some reason I wasn’t participating in the City of Ottawa Bonspiel (I had played the two previous years).
  • This year I am curling in that event and I fly out the day after my birthday.
  • That made me think of the tournament schedule, which in curling parlance is referred to as a “draw”.
  • That made me think of the phrase “the luck of the draw”.
  • That made me think of superstitions again.
  • And that’s why I’m on this oil rig.1

This all happened in a fraction of a second, which speaks to the immense processing power of the human mind (and to the fact that I should probably still be in therapy).

I grew up playing baseball in the summer and hockey in the winter. I would guess that hockey players probably having more superstitious tendencies than everyone else in the world combined. Add onto that turning 13 on Friday the 13th and what you end up with is one seriously superstitious kid (it doesn’t hurt that I’m slightly obsessive compulsive). My skates always went on right foot first, then left, then I tied the left, then I tied the right. I removed the little shiny sticker at the base of my stick (on the shaft just before the heel – back when sticks were actually made of wood) and replaced it with a strip on black hockey tape. Don’t even get me started on the laundry schedule for certain items during a winning or points streak (neither of which occurred too frequently).

Those are just a few personal examples – there are literally millions of others that people are carrying around with them every day. Most seem to be centred around sports, but they definitely exist for writers as well. I know people that write with their lucky pens, or in specific patterns in specific notebooks, under a favourite tree, or even facing a specific direction (East). Some will chalk it up to being a “creature of habit” and others insist it’s simply a matter of comfort.

I’m superstitious to the point where you’d think that I think it actually matters, and you’d be more right than you are wrong. You can’t have one of the greatest days of your childhood (Friday, March 13, 1987) and twenty-two years later have the worst day of your life (Friday, March 13, 2009) and not think that there’s something bigger going on – that there’s not some sort of connection, or some mystical force of the cosmos working to balance everything out.

Einstein said, “God does not play dice with the Universe”, and as a matter of fact he didn’t believe in God – at least not as the Mover of All Things. He felt that everything was governed by a grand unified formula in which all matter, and its behaviour, was connected (indeed, even Einstein saw some of the merits of modern Quantum theory). Well, it turns out Einstein was right about more than a few things in his lifetime and I’m left to wonder if maybe what we see as superstitions he would see as just ordered variables of a grand equation.

I’m also left to wonder if there was something more behind his desire to not wear socks.

~ Andrew

P.S. Apologies to bartender Brianna at ski lessons. Had I just sat in the same place as before maybe she would have won on her Tim Horton’s Roll Up The Rim cup today.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQaxDTKsb6s?rel=0]

1
This is an inside joke from a long time ago. Back in 1993 a bunch of us were watching TV in a dorm room at the University of Waterloo and the guy whose room we were in happened to be a bit of a channel surfer. We were all talking and not paying much attention and he hopped to a channel where there was this funny looking British dude in the middle of the ocean and he said, “And that’s why I’m on this oil rig!” Well if we all didn’t think that was the funniest thing we’ve ever heard. After that, any time someone said something even remotely out of context someone else would say, “And that’s why I’m on this oil rig!”. Fast forward to 1996 and I’m living in an apartment with a fellow physics student. He was obsessed with the show Connections. In summary, it was a show where this guy would take an everyday something like a garden hose and he would walk you though a fabulous series of “connections” starting with the first discovery or invention that kicked off the whole chain of events. It’s an amazing show if you have any interest at all in why we end up with some of the things we have today. Anyway, one day we’re eating lunch and watching this show and wouldn’t you know it, the host jumps to a new “connection” and he standing on a platform in the middle of the ocean and says, “And that’s why I’m on this oil rig!”. I just about choked on my sandwich I was laughing so hard.

Tomorrow… Tomorrow… I Love You… Tomorrow…

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Last week we talked about ideas and where they come from. As it turns out I happen to get a good number of them. I currently have ideas for three novels and one short story plus another trilogy of short stories which could easily become a novel, with (knock on wood) more ideas to come. BAM! Another idea just hit me for next week’s blog post [does happy dance].

The thing is, ideas are only useful if you actually do something about them. Ideas are wonderful little creatures but they also require quite a bit of attention. Just like the goldfish you had when you were little, if you don’t feed an idea it dies, and much like a dead goldfish, a dead idea ends up souring the experience, getting in the way, and making it more difficult to bring another one into the picture. What you really need to do is flush it down the toilet or bury it somewhere. Whatever you do, just get rid of it and get rid of it posthaste. Dead goldfish stink and it’s harder to get anything done when there’s a something stinking up the room regardless of whether it’s a dead fish or a bad idea.

Not every idea is going to be gold.

Some ideas are gold though (or gold plated, or just shiny enough to catch your attention), and those are the ones you have to take care of. The challenge with this isn’t so much figuring out what to do about it as it is actually doing something about it. If it’s one thing I’ve learned in my thirty[mumble] years of existence it’s that if you want to get anything done you have to actually get off your butt and do something about it. Quite often, the amount of work you put in determines the success, or the quality of the outcome (though I would argue against the notion that it’s linearly proportioned).

I have a job I really enjoy; two wonderful children; a wonderful wife; a gaggle of siblings, nieces and a nephew; loving parents and in-laws; myriad other family members scattered across the globe; lots of friends, some of them close and some peripheral (but there nonetheless). I also don’t sleep well and there’s lots of activity in my daily routine, so when it comes time to do something outside of all this, like, I don’t know, finish my novel, my motivation levels are fairly low. Sometimes – a lot of the time actually – I just want to sit and hang out in front of the television or read a book or just lie on the couch and enjoy the dim lighting and the quiet. Oh how I love the quiet…

I don’t need to finish the book to pay a bill, or because it’s my job, or because I am contractually obligated to finish. It’s not the last request of a dying family member or friend that I put my novel in their hands before they pass. It ranks lower than helping my kids with their science fair projects on my list of things to do (as it should). The only reason I can think of to finish it is to be able to look at myself in the mirror and know that I finished it. It will be a great accomplishment when it’s done, and I will be extremely proud of myself when the day comes, but my problem is that day always seems to be at least a day away.

I get more stuff done tomorrow than any other day of the week. 

An object at rest tends to stay at rest unless acted upon by an outside force; so I have to ask myself what are some of the forces that tend to get people moving, and which ones will get me moving? The one that stands out the most for me is commitment. If I make a commitment I really want to honour it.

When I was taking singing lessons in preparation for my fist ever vocal performance I practised almost every day. I found ways to rehearse even when I was sick or exhausted. I had made a commitment and I was going to honour it, damn it.

The same goes for when I was considering doing an Ignite talk. I was accepted once but declined because I wouldn’t have been able to give it the attention it deserved. I finally accepted just a few weeks ago and delivered the talk on February 13th. That one took at least three weeks away from any writing I was avoiding, but I had made a commitment and I had a deadline, so that was that.

As it pertains to writing I made a commitment to post to my blog once a week, on Sunday, and here we are on February 24 and I haven’t missed one yet – I even have my idea for next week’s post! So why isn’t my book done?

Simple. I haven’t made it a commitment – to myself or anyone else. Well, nothing motivates much better than making a promise to the world, so here goes nothing… I have roughly 25,000 words left in my first draft and…

I will finish by March 31.

There you go. That’s less than half the pace needed to win NaNoWriMo, which I did in 2012 (with a full day to spare!) I’ll even take it one step further. Now, I have no idea how long it takes to do a second and third draft, or how long an editor will need to colour it red, but my Dad’s 75th birthday is in October and I think a great present would be a new book for his e-reader. My book, to be specific.

I have a feeling that I’m not alone in thinking this, but nothing motivates me much more than simply being told I’m not capable of doing something. So as I eluded in the previous paragraph, I have no idea if what I want to do is even remotely possible, but I just dare you to tell me I can’t do it.

Go on, I dare you.

~ Andrew

P.S. I want to know what motivates you! What gets you out of bed in the morning? What gets you into the office? What gets the blood pumping, the wheels turning, or the pen writing?

Giving Birth

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Wow, was there ever a lot of talk this week about meteors and asteroids! It’s a good thing too, because I was in need of an idea for my post for this week. “What?!”, you say, “How can you possibly tie meteors and asteroids into a column about writing?” It’s a good question and one that I intend on answering.

  • First we get a meteor over Russia travelling at 54,000 km/h (that’s 15 kilometres [9 miles] every SECOND), and exploding over Chelyabinsk, Russia. The shock wave created as this thing entered our atmosphere took almost 30 seconds to reach the ground, and when it did it shattered windows, damaged buildings, and injured over 1,000 people.

  • Then, just a few hours later and asteroid slightly larger than a Space Shuttle came from the south and at a distance of 28,000 km zipped between the International Space Station and a ring of weather satellites. I’m not sure I can put that into perspective. It’s 1/10 the distance to the Moon. It passed INSIDE satellites WE put in space to monitor the weather. Astronomically speaking, that’s about as close a shave as you can get.

Two completely unrelated events happening on the same day, both involving chunks of rock from space, and both causing quite a stir here on Earth. For some, these are the types of occurrences that spawn science fiction books or fantastical Hollywood blockbuster movies. For me, these are the types of types of occurrences that make me wonder where I get my ideas.

I can’t figure out where my ideas come from, and there are times when it feels like I might never get another one that’s worth sharing.

The idea for my current (and first) novel took more than a decade to form and started out as something completely different. It evolved slowly over time with the strongest and most adaptable pieces carrying on to the next generation. It changed from a film about one thing, to a short story about something else, back to a film about something close to the first thing, to a novel about that thing, to a novel about something completely different. The original film idea now sits on a shelf waiting to be fertilized and will probably be birthed as my third novel.

Other ideas of mine seem to be created out of thin air. I have a short story/novella idea that came to me when I was staring at the walls of an elevator. Hey, I thought, I think this would make a great short story. Something kind of Twilight Zone-ish with a feel similar to Ayn Rand’s “Anthem”. I got a bit of help with this one from a friend later that night, but 90% of this idea had formed in the 30 seconds it took to ride up 1 floor.

The idea for what will probably become my second novel came to me while listening to Metallica in my car on the way to work. It was just one scene that played in my head throughout the duration of the song “Nothing Else Matters” (which happens to be one of my favourite Metallica tunes). It was the most disturbing thought I’ve ever had, and within minutes I had created several main characters and a plot, pulling ideas from some well-known religious nut jobs, cultists, psychopaths, sociopaths, and serial killers.

It would appear that I don’t lean toward any one “method” for coming up with ideas but I have noticed a few things:

  1. I get more ideas when I’m left alone
    Whether it’s as I’m falling asleep, or when I’m in the shower, or driving to work in the car, or alone in elevators, my brain needs a certain amount of isolation to work its magic. I don’t think I’m alone in this regard, but there are definitely people whose ideas come out of brainstorming with others – a sort of “think tank” mentality. This is definitely not me. My work even tends to be of higher quality when it’s just me in a room with white noise pumping through my headphones.
     
  2. My ideas get better when I involve other people

    While I have a harder time working with others to come up with ideas, the ones I get (that I like) only get better as I bounce them off other people. Certainly the four ideas I mentioned above have only improved since I shared them (or bits and pieces of them) with some of the great minds I happen to know.
     

  3. I can’t force ideas to appear

    Much like a baby, I can’t guarantee its arrival. I need an idea – now! very quickly becomes I got nuthin’. Just the right set of circumstances and the right chemical reactions are needed to bring my ideas to life and as soon as I start to force them out they dry up and I’m left with nothing but cobwebs and tumbleweeds. 

So, what works for you? Where do your ideas come from? Do they come out of nowhere and fall from the sky like a meteor (minus the exploding over Russia), or are they slowly cultivated over time; nurtured, pampered, brought into the world and given life? Are they a product of isolation and solitude or do they bounce around and off others like a stray particle seeking a cosmic partner.

If all the conspiracy talk after recent meteor/asteroid events are any indication, there is no imagination shortage out there, that’s for sure. Now if only we can get Hollywood to step up and give us something original; because even with rocks falling from the sky what we’re really missing is something with a deep impact.

~Andrew

I Fəəl Dirty

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I think writing can be the easiest thing in the world to do, once you’ve figured out a few words and how to get them on paper. Watch a child who has just learned to write and see how effortlessly they write:

“I likə cats and rainbows. I wish my cat kud tock so shə kud tell mə if shə liks rainbows. I think shə duz.“

 Yes, every “e” is backwards, there are several words spelled phonetically, and the colour choices make it difficult to read; but there it is in black and white (and a crayon box full of other colours). If a child at such an early stage can write, then anyone can do it. Right?

Wrong. Writing is also one of the most difficult things in the world to do. Not every story can be about cats, and not every idea just appears in your head like a rainbow in the sky. Good ideas are even harder to come by. Those are like the crystal clear double rainbow you see after a short summer rain where you can imagine giant pots of gold at each end and a bevy of leprechauns dancing a jig around them. Oh, and let’s not forget that all this has to be interesting enough for people to read. That’s like trying to describe your rainbow scene in such a way that someone would rather read about it from you than see the photograph of it taken by someone else.

I wanted to use http://ic2.pbase.com/g2/95/519495/2/55623816.1QMs4Uwa.jpg by Dan Bush at http://www.pbase.com/missouri_skies/image/55623816/large but haven't heard back from him yest. So, for now I'll be using one I took.

We needn’t fret though because we’ve given ourselves the best out there is: we get to make stuff up! That’s right, when it comes to fiction, we writers are blessed to live in a world where there are virtually no rules (and those who are editors can vouch for the fact that most of us take some pretty serious liberties with the rules that do exist), and this is where I start to feel a little dirty.

My background is heavily scientific. In high school I took chemistry, physics, calculus, algebra, and finite mathematics. English and French were thrown in just because I had to take something that wasn’t math and science. I started university in applied physics, and was working toward an astrophysics major before I realized that a career in academia was not how I wanted to spend my life. I graduated with a non-specialized science degree and became a computer programmer.

At this point you’re asking yourself, Why is this important, and why does it make you feel dirty? Well it’s really quite simple… as a scientist I am not comfortable making stuff up. It feels wrong. Actually, when a scientist makes stuff up it IS wrong, and when other people make stuff up and try to pawn it off as science (or worse, the truth) it is just as wrong, if not more so. My friend Gordon Bonnet (a science teacher and a writer) has an excellent blog about people making stuff up and how it really grates his cheese. His post from Feb. 9 even has a rainbow!

So, when it came time to introduce a little science to my novel I was hesitant. I was a physics guy, and a slightly below average one at that. The science I needed was in the area of biology and to a lesser degree advanced computer programming and Internet security. I could bungle my way through the math and computers well enough that the average person wouldn’t have a clue. Plus, I didn’t want those details to overpower the characters in the story (it’s not a book about computers, it’s a book about people!) Anyway, after a while I got more and more comfortable with the idea of blatantly making up the biology parts just because I thought it sounded good.

A close friend gave me the idea to use HeLa cells. These are fascinating little cancerous cells that are almost impossible to kill. I did a little reading on them and after a few weeks came up with quite a nice twist that I thought worked rather nicely. Then, I pitched the idea to a friend of mine who happens to hold a PhD in biochemistry and who also happens to be one of the smartest and wonderfully scientifically minded people I have the pleasure of knowing. He was convinced there was a scientifically accurate way to do this and offered his assistance in finding it.

That seemed like a lot of work.

I explained to him that I didn’t need it to actually be right, I just needed it to be remotely plausible to the average person off the street, and my only real challenge would be to sound convincing enough. I fully expect that anyone with experience in isolation and characterization of unsaturated fatty acids as natural ligands for the retinoid-X receptor, or even anyone with better-than-average knowledge of biology to call bullshit, and I was good with that.  He was not, and while he didn’t say it out loud I think he was a little disappointed in me. Hopefully linking to his thesis makes up for it.

Now, all that being said, for every sentence I write that obfuscates reality just a little bit too much I feel a slight pang of disappointment as well. There’s a fine line between artistic license and simply being too lazy to actually research something. So I’ve started interviewing people and doing some reading to help expose some truth – but not all of it – after all, if kids have taught me anything it’s that it’s okay to get a little dirty once and a while.

Oh, and if you know any good alchemists or mad scientists I can talk to, please let me know.

~Andrew

Choosing Wisely

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On the day of what can arguably be described as the biggest day in North American sports, Super Bowl Sunday, I find myself in a minority position when it comes to giving a damn. I’ve never really been a football fan – hockey and golf seem to hold my interest – and I’m definitely not in the habit of worshipping the ground these best-of-the-best athletes walk on. Now I’m not saying I’m a perfect human – I’m far from it – and I’ve been lucky to make my mistakes in private without the world standing around judging me.

That being said, my kids are starting to pay attention to what’s on the TV and are going to start to look to people that aren’t my wife and I as role models. As such, I started paying closer attention to the famous faces that SportsCentre plasters all over their highlight reels and I noticed something: a lot of them are little more than just really good athletes.

San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick is a God-fearing fella with a few tattoos, a better than average passing arm, and seemingly no fear of running the ball. He takes the field for his first Super Bowl appearance today playing on the first professional sports team to openly support the gay and lesbian community. Now that’s a really big deal, and one that San Francisco player Chris Culliver came out and said he was not OK with. Now, that’s his choice, but I’ll be the first to tell you I’m not running out and getting my kids a Culliver jersey any time soon. If anything, I’ll be using him as an example of someone whom my kids should pay as little attention to as possible.

Unfortunately, the number of athletes on that list of mine is more than a few. It seems that for every incredible story on the field there’s an incredibly idiotic one that’s happening off of it. Pick your poison: religious extremists, misogynists, rapists, philanderers, racists, bigots, drug addicts, blood dopers, steroid abusers, liars, and cheaters. You can certainly find these people in among famous scientists, writers, and educators as well but the principal difference is the media is not often pushing them into our line of sight and hanging off their every word hoping for a sound bite they can use to open the show.

Now, the good news is we also have many respectable athletes to choose from as well. For every jerk with record setting statistic there’s another one I’d gladly hang a poster of on my wall. Sidney Crosby, the poster boy of the NHL, lived with Mario Lemieux for the first 5 years he was in Pittsburgh – to help with his transition from a small town kid to a big city superstar.  Here was a full grown, voting age adult with a job making millions of dollars a year, and a full entourage of advisers, coaches, and support staff living with his boss and mentor. No controversy, no scandal, no embarrassing photographs… just a pretty nice guy who happens to be a pretty amazing hockey player.

I suppose my wish is for the media – and the general public – to do a better job of distinguishing good athletes from good people, because at the end of the day they’re all just people. For all they do on and off the field, I think it’s important to remember they have their own problems, their own hurdles to overcome, life lessons to learn, or growing up to do. They also have their own opinions – which you don’t have to agree with. I know in a lot of cases I certainly don’t, and I used to get worked up over it, but I try not to any more. I’ve just stopped putting athletes on a pedestal and touting their virtues to the world because they happen to be rich and good at their jobs. At the end of the day they’re just a bunch of guys who excel at playing games.

I’ll acknowledge that fact they possess remarkable athletic skill, and I’ll be duly impressed by it, but after that I’ll be keeping a close eye on the ones I point out to my kids, because superstar athletes have just as much chance as the next guy of being absolutely bat shit crazy.

Go Niners (most of them)!

~Andrew

Risky Business

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I Googled “risk quotes” and got back 159 million results in 0.29 seconds. Given my renewed focus on the written word (especially with respect to this blog) it seemed appropriate to get this post going with a quote about risk from a great writer.

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”
~ T.S. Eliot

One thing I have discovered about being a writer is that every time you hit “publish” on that blog post, or submit work to a journal, your editor, or your friend, or even share a paragraph with a writer’s group; you’re putting a part of yourself on display and opening it up to critique. Not many people are comfortable taking that kind of risk and for a long time I was certainly one of them. I thought my skills were deficient, my vocabulary limited, and my thoughts uninteresting. The rewards did not seem to outweigh the cost so I just didn’t write, but at some point something in me changed.

“The policy of being too cautious is the greatest risk of all.”
~ Jawaharlal Nehru

I can’t point to the exact moment, but I think a big part of it was when I decided to start singing. As some of you may know, I took singing lessons and surprised my wife with a performance for our anniversary. It was mindbogglingly terrifying, but I did it, and in the year that followed that initial performance I made more than half a dozen other appearances on stage at various open mic nights and other events in the city. I even sang at a charity event for the mayor where, for the first time, my kids were there to watch.

“Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”
~ E. E. Cummings

So what is it about humans that see us go to such great lengths just to avoid risk? Certainly there are moments in human history where taking risks meant a greater chance of getting eaten by some large animal with claws and big teeth. So how come our species can come so far yet still struggle with the act of taking even one non life-threatening risk?

I’m not saying that it should be all risk all the time, but I find it extremely disheartening when I don’t even see a modicum of effort put into doing something differently or for the first time. If we listen to Yoda (“Do… or do not. There is no try.”) then we are left with only two things: success and failure, and the thought of the latter is what kept me on the sidelines for quite a long time, and what continues to keep others in the role of passive observer. Personally, I think it’s a real shame.

“People who don’t take risks generally make about two big mistakes a year. People who do take risks generally make about two big mistakes a year.”
~ Peter F. Drucker

Maybe it’s because I’ve experienced failure and lived to write about it. Maybe it’s because I worked as a people manager for a decade and saw how amazing it was when someone did something outside their comfort zone. Maybe it’s because after years of sitting on the fence I finally submitted something for publication. Or maybe it’s because I have children and I want them to experience everything life has to offer. No matter how you look at it, the only way to get stuff done is to actually do it.

“Life is not tried it is merely survived / If you’re standing outside the fire.”
~ Garth Brooks

So go out and write that novel, paint that picture, write that song, perform that experiment, open that dusty textbook, apply for that job, or call that person you met at the gym. Do more than merely survive.  I promise you will not get eaten by a large animal with claws and big teeth.

~ Andrew