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Archive for April, 2015

I came across a fascinating article by David McRaney on survivorship bias. The overall point, that accounting for failure is critical to success, is well made, and the author uses a series of pointed examples. Not incidentally, the post also lays out a new-to-me part of World War Two history that includes a cabal of geniuses, women mathematicians, and the Department of War Math (ok, that last bit wasn’t its real name, but it should have been).

In World War Two, for example, the U.S. military tracked damage to returning bombers and wanted to beef up the most frequently-hit areas. A statistician named Abraham Wald pointed out that the surviving planes made it back despite that damage. The spots where they were unscathed, the ones no one had thought to record, were in fact the most vulnerable; as McRaney sums up, “that’s where the planes that didn’t make it back were hit.”

I found the history interesting in its own right, and if you have ever been tempted by the (admittedly seductive) trap of thinking, “Well, my grandfather breakfasted on salt pork and hot gin for ninety years, so I can eat whatever I want and still live forever,” I recommend a read.

“You develop a completely inaccurate assessment of reality thanks to a prejudice that grants the tiny number of survivors the privilege of representing the much larger group to which they originally belonged.“

That same logic applies to evaluating advice from diet gurus, celebrity CEOs and millionaire app designers. Skill plays a part, of course, but it turns out that overall, what a lot of successful people have in common could be termed luck. That may be a bit discouraging, but the good news is that such luck can be courted if you’re willing to take a longer-term view.

“The lucky try more things, and fail more often, but when they fail they shrug it off and try something else. Occasionally, things work out.”

Instead of looking for that one big break, think of the world as a series of possibilities; the more options you try, the greater your chance of success. Resist tunnel vision, “wade into the sea of random chance,” and stay open to new ideas and situations. That sounds pretty good, actually.

If you’re interested in how survivorship bias applies to writers and writing careers, check out this post by Tobias Buckell and the related Writing Excuses podcast in glorious audio or text.

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BBC Radio 4 is producing a radio drama of Ursula Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness. The BBC is known for its adaptations, including Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens last December. I read a lot of Le Guin as a teen but I haven’t revisited this classic novel in a long time, and I’m looking forward to hearing what they do with it.

Adapted for radio by Judith Adams and released one episode per week, the series has just begun. Find it and supporting material, including a documentary with author interview, at BBC Radio 4.

Each episode will be available for 30 days, so if this interests you, don’t wait!

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Author Anne Lamott is turning 61 and took the opportunity to write down “every single thing I know, as of today.”

It’s a lovely list, full of the poignant and practical advice for which she’s known. It can be moving and a little sad, as when she touches on the challenges of family and death, but she also brings out useful truths on such topics as the necessity of exercise and writing shitty first drafts, the beauty of life and persistence and the fact that any of us are even here at all.

I especially like #2:
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”

The original post was on Facebook, which I don’t use, but you can find the rest of her list and more on her thoughts in this Salon article.

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The temperature is rising and we are consistently having days around 0C. Um, yay? That is a good thing, relatively speaking, but it’s a cold start to spring. My yard is still half-covered with snow and a dusty layer of grey gravel from winter street maintenance, and I am so ready for color.

Today I give you a random photo from the archives. This is the Floating Market outside Bangkok, in Dumnernsaduak. It takes me back to a July day of light, the calls of coconut vendors, the smell of fried rice cakes and roasted meat, and the sticky heat of morning sun in Thailand. Enjoy:)

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

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CreativeCup
Despite the title of this post, it’s not about what you may think. Meet my creative cup.

I pulled it out of the cupboard today because I wanted not only tea but a particular mindset. For that I use a cup.

I can tweak my mental orientation on my own, but like a witch with a familiar I find this task easier with the right tools. I have work cups, I have dessert cups (for chocolate pudding, of course), I have everyday cups and I have fun cups. But this is the original, my first cup with a distinct personality. Also, its own special power.

It may not look like much, at first glance. The surface is a fine textured grey that appears dull in poor light, with an image of pussy willow branches in an understated earthy brown and sky blue. There is a small chip on the lip, just above the handle. It could be any cup.

But it also has a larger-than-normal capacity, good for long days and challenging projects. It has tiny dimples where the layered paint is marginally thicker, enough to provide subconscious grip for tired fingers. The handle is both wide and flat for stability without bulk. It has a thin lip that doesn’t drip no matter how distracted the user. And it was given to me by a high school teacher whose name I can’t remember and whom I’ll never forget.

Many people (and, dare I posit, most writers?) were fortunate enough to have a teacher like this. She helped me explore new challenges, let me design a class when the schedule didn’t offer what I wanted, talked about the world outside of school as if it were a treasure box. She ran at lunch and ate interesting food at a desk by an oversized window, trim and fit with shoulder-length brown hair and a joyfully pragmatic outlook on life. She lent books and awarded class credit for wildcrafting my own dyes, medicines and poisons that would have done a 17th-century physicker proud.

She stayed with our school little more than a year, I think, but that was enough. The night before they left she and her husband arrived at our doorstep, a small wrapped package in hand. A gift, she said, that she hoped would suit. Something to take with me on my path.

I untied the ribbon. I tore the paper. Those are long gone. I still have the cup. When I want invention, when I want off-the-beaten-path imagination, when I need the encouragement to create and the belief that the world is still a wondrous treasure, this is my companion.

I thanked her. I am still thanking her, every time I use this cup.

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