Sunday, 8 December 2024

BOOK NOTE - How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King


Mysteries, whether in novel form or on TV, are one of the best things in the world. A good mystery novel can transport me away from this world and provides one of the best escapes from the mundane every day. One of my first attempts at writing something as a pre-teen was a detective mystery, inspired by the many Enid Blyton adventures like The Secret Seven and The Famous Five, as well as series like The Three Investigators, presented by Alfred Hitchcock, which I spent most of my time reading.

The art of writing a mystery has fascinated me, and while I haven't yet managed to publish one, I have a few drafts and outlines lying around. How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King, is a great resource for aspiring mystery writers and for those who simply want to read about how great mystery writers like Lee Child, Jeffrey Deaver, and Dale Berry approach their craft. The book offers excellent context on what it takes to build a good mystery, tips for writing across different genres of mysteries, and interesting observations from some of the best in the field.

Some of the real gems from the book that have stuck with me are the following:

  1. About storytelling - Meg Gardiner, in the article Keep it Thrilling, says about storytelling: “The theater of the mind is more powerful than a bucket of blood.” Often, when we write, we try to describe everything. But storytelling can achieve even more if we let the reader's mind fill in the gaps and spark their imagination.
  2. On writing children's mysteries - Chris Grabenstein notes that there is a new group of 5th graders every year, ensuring that the genre has a long shelf life.
  3. On authenticity - One of the constant challenges I face is the following: I haven't, thankfully, been part of or witnessed a crime. How can I write authentically about it? Charles Salzburg offers a response to this, encouraging us not to be limited by what we know. We can let our imaginations run wild and use Google and the news cycle as inspiration.
  4. On subtext - Stephen Ross provides one of the best descriptions of subtext. He describes the following grocery shopping list a character might have: “Bread. Milk. Eggs. Hammer. Quicklime. Shovel. Champagne.” He explains that this works much better than explicitly describing how the character plans a murder.
  5. On villains - T. Jefferson Parker talks about the importance of the villain when he says, “Don’t underestimate the importance of this character. Villains bring the dark into which we (the authors) can bring the illumination.”
Overall, this is an amazing read and an excellent resource for inspiration on how to write a mystery.

Saturday, 7 December 2024

BOOK NOTE - Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami

 


My main impression of reading Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood can be summarized in three words: Unrealistic, uneasy, and "give me more." I am genuinely impressed by Murakami's story of becoming the writer he is, his journey, personal circumstances, habits, and philosophy, and I can by reading this book realize why he deserves his literary rock star status.

Let me explain why I felt this book was unrealistic, and how realizing something made me uneasy and wanting more Murakami.

Without spoiling the story, the protagonist, Toru, comes across as depressed, numb, but somehow, remarkably in control of himself. He has gone through some truly traumatic experiences in his young life, leaving him both numb and strangely optimistic. He moves through life, connecting with people and seemingly leaving them better off, but we don’t really see how he himself changes—despite the story being written from his point of view. Until the reader makes the uneasy realization which I will describe below.

Despite a certain non-appealing, uninteresting quality about him, he uncharacteristically ends up sleeping with every major female character and is also implied to have unromantic relationships with many other women off the narrative screen. This seemed unrealistic to me, even within the almost melancholic setting of late-20th-century Japanese life.

The women in Toru’s life seem one-dimensional, shaped by their own major traumas. So are most of the other characters. However, here is the uneasy realization. Their traits and actions are just reflections of different parts of Toru’s own personality. Naoko, his main female interest, represents the part of him that is reflective of his trauma—his sadness and the part of him that wants to give up, and eventually does. Kizuki, his childhood friend, embodies the root of his early trauma. Midori, his other female love interest, represents the carefree, wild side of Toru, but one that is tinged with the limitations of reality. For example, Midori and Toru are unable to fully give in to their desires for each other due to real-life constraints, such as Midori’s dying father. Nagasawa, his wealthy and powerful university friend, symbolizes Toru’s masculinity—a part of himself that he despises and ultimately banishes from his life. Hatsumi, Nagasawa's fiancée, embodies the ideal partner Toru desires. She is the only one he doesn’t sleep with, because he does not respect what he desires. It’s remarkably poignant that Toru’s inability to save Hatsumi—whether from Nagasawa’s disdain —leads to the loss of his feminine ideal forever. Reiko, a much older woman and a recluse from society, symbolizes maturity—or the lack thereof. As Naoko’s close companion, she represents the memory of his troubled youth. His intimate encounter with her at the end is symbolic of holding onto the past. Storm Trooper, his quirky roommate, represents discipline and routine, which Toru mostly treats as a joke before it disappears from his life.

What left me uneasy was how unrealistic the characters feel when taken at face value as part of a conventional story—until the realization dawns that Norwegian Wood is really about Toru interacting with different parts of himself. This, to me, is the masterstroke of Murakami’s writing in this book, and left with the need to read more of his work.

Give me more!


BOOK NOTE - The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean - Paul Theroux

 


A good travelogue is always a good companion, especially when you are not travelling. Paul Theroux's The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean is a book about a journey that is a journey in itself. I started reading it in December 2021, and while I usually finish books fast, this one has been a slow read. I completed it in October 2024. The reason is as follows: I have been distracted and have a mild case of reading too many books at the same time.

It is a typical Theroux book, but at the same time, a bit of a pessimistic ramble. I read it with the same love-hate relationship Theroux seems to have with the places he is visiting. Theroux starts in Gibraltar and, instead of crossing the Straits to hop over to Morocco, takes the long route along the interior of the Mediterranean by road and by boat, making an epic journey to the two pillars of Hercules. He does this in the 1990s, when the whole region is going through a lot of transition but is also the Mediterranean of the romantic era, unspoiled by Instagram and travel apps.

In typical Theroux fashion, he documents the idiosyncrasies of the coastal towns and villages through the interactions he has with people there. The best among them are the meetings he has with other authors based in the region—some local, some expat, and some long dead. Along the way, he encounters Salvador Dalí's estate in Figueres, Spain, and reminisces about Hemingway's love of fiestas. In Antibes, he visits Graham Greene's home and has many such encounters with the literati of the past, all of whom found themselves and their writing inspired by the Mediterranean.

Some of the best parts of the book come when he visits notable living authors. He visits Naguib Mahfouz in Egypt and Paul Bowles in Morocco. But why I struggled with this book, only able to read it in bursts and in between finishing many other books, is because Theroux is rather caustic and utterly shreds the romantic experience one has of places like the French Riviera and the Adriatic Coast, revealing their true grunginess. I was reminded of the time I was in Naples back in 2009 and was left uninspired by it.

What kept me going was the Theroux magic of weaving history, anthropology, tragedy, and humour in his writing about the place. On reflection, this is a great book, which feels like an ugly piece of graffiti on an ancient Greek marble column.

Sunday, 6 October 2024

BOOK NOTE - Why We Sleep - Matthew Walker

 


Every so often, a book changes your life. Matthew Walker’s Why We Sleep is one such book. Reading about sleep and Walker’s passionate advocacy for a good night’s rest was, ironically, the wake-up call I needed.

Society is deeply misguided when it puts hustle culture on a pedestal, and burning the midnight oil is seen as an achievement, when in fact, it endangers our lives. Walker eloquently explains how modern life has lost the essential wisdom that guided humanity long before we became Homo sapiens. Sleep, the essential ingredient of life, has unfortunately been twisted into something grotesque. By discussing the science of sleep and its importance for our physical, mental, emotional, and behavioral health, Walker hopes to reconnect us with this life-giving force.

I’ve been fortunate to have mentors who stressed not burning the midnight oil. I vividly recall April 2015, during a client workshop I was leading as a market research consultant. I was unable to clearly present data and insights to senior clients who had paid me to do so. Like many consultants, I had stayed up late perfecting the slides, only to struggle the next day. Thanks to my boss, we managed to get through it. Later, a senior colleague shared how avoiding all-nighters had made him more successful. Not everyone is as lucky as I was. I write this at a time when glorified busy lives have claimed young consultants and bankers.

Walker’s book could offer these type-A personalities a pause, reshaping their views on the life-enhancing power of sleep.

Despite knowing the dangers, this book was a wake-up call. Lack of sleep makes us hypersensitive to experience-seeking, which leads to addiction. In today’s world, where phones feed us a constant stream of junk content, addiction is easy, making our minds obese. No wonder people doom-scroll their lives away. Sleep breaks this cycle and is the antidote to anhedonia—losing pleasure in life.

As E. Joseph Cossman said,

"The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep."

Tuesday, 17 September 2024

Should to could; trading one burden with another

I have a hypothesis: The fundamental schism that has emerged in society over the last 30 years, driving both hypergrowth and hyperpolarization, is the shift from the “burden of shoulds” to the “burden of coulds.”

We once lived in a world largely bound by the “burden of shoulds” – we should pray to God, we should obey our parents, we should respect our elders, we should be kind, we should set limits. While there were pockets where these rules were relaxed, society as a whole was still deeply rooted in what one should do. There was change, but it was superficial, leaving the foundational "burden of shoulds" intact.

Somewhere in the last 30 years, this has tipped. Now, society is beholden to a different burden: the “burden of coulds.” I could do whatever I want. Previously, for the last couple of centuries, this agency of “what I could do” peaked during adolescence and middle age, as autonomy and financial independence grew. But after this hype of autonomy wore off, individuals reverted to the societal norm of the “burden of shoulds”. Some were trailblazers, but most were not. And this was normal.

If we go back further into history, the possibilities for defining one’s life were extremely limited. Most people didn’t have the capability or context to pursue a life defined by “coulds.” Inter- and intra-generational sameness was common. Most people followed their fathers’ and grandfathers’ professions. For generations, people adhered to the same philosophical and spiritual beliefs, doing what they should do to remain relevant.

Challenges to the “burden of shoulds” existed, of course. When Nietzsche, for instance, ponders the source of one's habits, he was challenging the dominance of the “burden of shoulds,” but this was not mainstream thought

“Is the source of one's habits coming from innumerable cowardice and laziness, or courage and inventive reasons?”

Recently, the scales have tipped, and the majority now operate within the realm of what could be – the Art of the Possible. This, to me, explains many of the happenings in society. The hypergrowth of Silicon Valley is driven by this burden of “could” – how could we make things faster and frictionless? How could we enable endless buying on credit? How could we replace traditional currency with digital assets? How could we make overconsumption sustainable?

The entire consulting industry, in my view, peddles these possibilities – constantly advocating for change and transformation, fueled by the “coulds.” As a sidebar, Ashley Goodall, a former consulting veteran, writes in his book The Problem with Change about how the cult of disruption has taken hold among executives. He notes:

While we were all busily disrupting ourselves hither and yon, we somehow lost sight of the fact that change and improvement are two different things. In the beginning, executives thought, ‘We need to fix this problem; therefore, we need to change.’ Now, too many believe, ‘We need to change, because then all the problems will be fixed.’

Earlier, I suggested that part of the work malaise we’re seeing today is due to this burden shift. The modern professional, especially in the last 30 years, is constantly navigating between the "burden of shoulds" (what is expected of us, what we believe we must do) and the "burden of coulds" (what we can do, what seems possible). This frequent switching between the two creates a mental tax, contributing to anxiety.

On a societal level, the hyperpolarization and the widening gap between rich and poor are also products of this schism. Political hyperpolarization is a manifestation of this desire for change and the exploration of possibilities. For example, the increasingly negative rhetoric in elections, and the abandonment of common decency, are acceptable to large segments of society because it could be okay to some group of hyperpolarized people. The same can be said for cancel culture and wokeism – extreme manifestations of the “burden of coulds,” where everyone could identify with any gender they choose, disregarding biological norms.

Nietzsche, while advocating for a challenge to certain "shoulds," also warned of the dangers of abandoning them. When he said “God is dead,” he wasn’t celebrating the demise of God, but rather warning of the consequences of a society that abandons universal moral truths. He wrote this in 1882, when the long arc of this change had already started.

Many modern philosophers in the 20th century argued for the benefits of “coulds” and accelerated this change. In the world of shoulds, saving oneself was seen as something external, requiring one to follow specific rules – religious or societal. In the modern world, salvation is often considered internal – you could do whatever you want to save yourself. This shift fully tipped into the “burden of coulds” in the early 21st century.

It’s crucial to note that “could” is considered to be better than “should” in the modern world. And while there is no denying that we are better off today than anytime in history, there are some problems with this schism. “Could”  is only better than “should” if it’s not a burden. But as a society, we’ve simply replaced one burden with another.

This replacement of the certainty of “shoulds” with the uncertainty of “coulds” presents the latest challenge. We have traded one authority figure for a new one. Psychologically, humans need authority figures. So now we idolize those who appear to live freely, doing whatever they could do. 

But it binds us to this new shallow, narcissistic authority figure – the mediocre self which is eternally trapped in the burden of what could be – instead of ever being content or feeling contentment. This is why we spend hours doom-scrolling on Instagram for example, living vicariously through others' curated lives, burdened by thoughts like, “I could travel there,” “I could be perfectly healthy,” “I could be perfectly productive,” etc.

In Book of Longing (2007), Leonard Cohen offers a timeless observation:

“We are moving into a period of bewilderment, a curious moment in which people find light in the midst of despair, and vertigo at the summit of their hopes. It is a religious moment also, and here is the danger. People will want to obey the voice of Authority, and many strange constructs of just what Authority is will arise in every mind… The public yearning for Order will invite many stubborn uncompromising persons to impose it. The sadness of the zoo will fall upon society.”

The sadness of the zoo has fallen upon society.

Trapped inside the cage, burdened by what could be, we are all looking out with longing eyes.

Monday, 16 September 2024

BOOK NOTE - What I talk about when I talk about running - Haruki Murakami


 

An excellent book to pick up and read, especially since I’ve signed up for a marathon in December 2024! Well, a half marathon actually, but still. I’m running the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon, so when my wife Aditi picked up this book during her recent travels, I was delighted.


This is the first Murakami book I’ve read. Though it’s not one of his famous novels, it didn’t disappoint. Murakami has a unique way with words—simple yet speaking to the reader as an equal. I had heard about his passion for running and even knew how competitive he is. This memoir shows just how deeply running is a part of him.

Murakami treats running as a muse for his writing—both as a source of ideas and as an essential part of his life, which in turn fuels his success as a writer.

A few points really resonated with me:

One. Murakami writes about running to clear discontent. He says he runs to "acquire a void," and I could relate to this. Like him, I thrive in solitude, and physical activities like running, hiking, and walking help me process and transform discontent into something more mundane and manageable.

Two. I finally found the source of the quote: "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional." Murakami attributes this wisdom to his brother, who taught him that while pain is part of life, one can choose not to suffer.

Three. The prose is simple but enriched with incredible metaphors. For example, when he describes working on his essays about running, he compares himself to a "silent village blacksmith, tinkering away." It’s a beautiful metaphor for quietly getting the work done.

I’m so glad I discovered this book while training for a half marathon. It has helped me refocus on my jogging routine. In some ways, I’m happy this was my first Murakami book—it makes me look forward even more eagerly to reading his famous novels.

Sunday, 25 August 2024

In the embrace of the unknown courage can be found

In my recent readings, I have come across four inspirations that, at first glance, seem unrelated. Yet, in the crucible of my mind, they have lingered and coalesced into a single thought.

Let me start with the four inspirations.

First, from Susan Sontag in her essay Unguided Tour, which explores the discomfort of unfamiliar spaces that are foreign to us. I actually encountered this quote in Christopher Hitchens’ poignant work about the remnants of the British Raj in places like India and Hong Kong:

“That’s why I went. To say goodbye. Whenever I travel, it’s always to say goodbye.” — Susan Sontag.

Second, while reading Robin Sharma’s book The Everyday Hero Manifesto, I came across a discussion on how being faithful to one’s ideals can be a force multiplier. He talks about the joy of following one’s enthusiasm wherever it leads. In this context, he mentions a powerful quote from Anaïs Nin. Though I tried to find the exact source of this quote in Nin’s work, I was unsuccessful, but it remains evocative nonetheless:

“People living deeply have no fear of dying.” — Anaïs Nin.

Third, I discovered a quote about courage from Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses on X. Although I haven’t read the book yet, this quote immediately resonated with me, and I made a note of it:

“All courage is a form of constancy. It is always himself that the coward abandons first. After this, all other betrayals come easily.” — Cormac McCarthy.

Finally, I came across the concept of Fernweh during my podcast listening, likely from Dr. Laurie Santos’ The Happiness Lab, though I’m not entirely certain.

Fernweh is defined as a longing for the unfamiliar, the opposite of homesickness—literally, a 'farsickness'. It’s a yearning for travel and getting lost.

I found that these four inspirations share a common thread: the theme of confronting the unknown—whether through travel, mortality, or other experiences—and doing so with courage.

But the deeper meaning, to me, is as follows:

People who often find themselves lost are not losers, as the world might perceive them. They may seem lost in the eyes of others, but they are not cowards who have abandoned themselves; rather, they are looking deeply within. They are likely living deeply and are unafraid of dying. They are seeking something they have not yet found. I will admit that they might be afraid of saying goodbye, which is why they feel a sense of Fernweh, longing to travel and keep the journey going.

Afterall, to live deeply is to embrace the unknown, for in leaving the familiar behind, we can discover our courage.




Wednesday, 24 July 2024

Diagnosis is strategy

For a strategy to be effective, the process must start with diagnosis. Without a sound diagnosis, strategy becomes nothing more than wild guessing. Yes, strategy involves decision-making—choosing what to retain and what to let go—but these decisions must be grounded in diagnosis. In fact, there's an even simpler truth: diagnosis is strategy.

Asking the question, “What is going on here?” and understanding and clarifying that situation—without making any decisions—is the most crucial part of strategy.


Source: Dave Kellogg @kellblog 's twitter post. More context here on his blog

Both leadership and management are essential for success. Leaders begin by asking and understanding, “What is going on here?” Management, is the art of comprehending the situation and only then making decisions on strategy and tactics.

Tuesday, 23 July 2024

Reimagining how we 'Learn with Instruction' with AI

In their masterful book, How to Read a Book, authors Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren observe the difference between two types of learning: learning by instruction and learning by discovery.

They write:

"In the history of education, men have often distinguished between learning by instruction and learning by discovery. Instruction occurs when one person teaches another through speech or writing. We can, however, gain knowledge without being taught. If this were not the case, and every teacher had to be taught what he in turn teaches others, there would be no beginning in the acquisition of knowledge. Hence, there must be discovery—the process of learning something by research, by investigation, or by reflection, without being taught."

- Van Doren, Charles; Mortimer J. Adler. How to Read a Book (p. 12). 

While the act of learning, they clarify, occurs in the mind of the learner in both cases, the process of facilitating that learning is different.

The book was written in 1940, and while many of its concepts remain true to this day, there is one interesting development that I feel puts human evolution at an inflection point.

You may have guessed it—it is AI.

Though there is a chorus of voices proclaiming that AI will completely change the world, I am not a fan of the excessive optimism surrounding it. Neither do I align with the opposing view that AI advancements, such as Generative AI, will bring doom to humanity.

I strongly believe that while humanity may make leaps and bounds in technology, it will ultimately be for the better in the long run—and that the ‘long run’ will truly be long. We often overestimate what can happen in very short time horizons.

However, there is one area that will change dramatically: the process in which human learning occurs due to the advent and growth of AI. This change is tied to the distinction between learning by instruction and learning by discovery.

In 1940, the authors observed a crucial aspect of this difference:

"The reason is that listening is learning from a teacher who is present—a living teacher—while reading is learning from one who is absent. If you ask a living teacher a question, he will probably answer you. If you are puzzled by what he says, you can save yourself the trouble of thinking by asking him what he means. If, however, you ask a book a question, you must answer it yourself. In this respect, a book is like nature or the world. When you question it, it answers you only to the extent that you do the work of thinking and analysis yourself."
- Van Doren, Charles; Mortimer J. Adler. How to Read a Book (p. 14). 

It is this facet of learning that AI is disrupting. Until now, learning by discovery was limited to consuming information with an active mind. Humanity has always sought further learning by instruction to overcome the shortcomings of bookish knowledge. AI is changing this dynamic. Soon, if not already, we will be able to converse with a book or the ideas in a book, seeking clarification and instruction through AI.

Already, using freely available versions of ChatGPT, I am able to have conversations with AI that embody a book or the ideas of an author. With the continued growth of AI, this will become more seamless, allowing different kinds of learning by instruction to occur without the need for a present teacher. This will revolutionize what we understand as the learning process.


Remember, learning still needs to happen in the learner's mind, regardless of whether it is by discovery or instruction. However, I suspect that with AI, the distinction between the two will redefine the role and definition of the instructor.

In some ways, AI seeks to harness the knowledge of books and pull them into the realm of interaction.

Tuesday, 16 July 2024

50 days of blogging, everyday

In the last 50 days, I have posted a blog post daily. This has been a profound learning experience, as the interconnections of my ideas have come together, allowing me to sustain this daily blog streak. I can see how even a rudimentary application of Sonke Ahrens' "How to Take Smart Notes" Zettelkasten-like system has significantly improved my thinking and writing. It has helped me get past the blank page and find connections between my ideas. Initially skeptical, I now see the value of this approach, even in its simplest form. However, consuming ideas from sources like books, podcasts, conversations, and reflections, and noting them down for review, is crucial. Moving forward, my focus will shift more towards sparking new ideas. While I may not continue the daily blog, I still plan to write as much as possible, as it has become an addictive practice.

As a note-taking aficionado, I use multiple methods to capture and organize my knowledge. Here is a summary of the different types:

To-Do List

I use a systematized to-do list for various recurring tasks:

  • Daily Tasks: Activities like doing the daily Wordle, brushing my teeth at night, and taking out the garbage.
  • Recurring Appointments: Tasks such as paying bills, calling parents, and calling friends.
  • Reminders: For birthdays, anniversaries, and other recurring activities, like backing up my data to the cloud.

I use the free MS To-Do app for this. It is pinned to the top screen of my phone, making it easy to jot down ideas, capture information I hear, and note tasks quickly. I also have a folder for checklists, which helps me stay organized.

Google Keep

Google Keep is my go-to for capturing thoughts, ideas, images, and photos that catch my fancy. When I don’t use MS To-Do for ideas, I turn to Google Keep. It’s like my digital pocket notebook.

I have a separate Google Keep account for journaling and affirmations. When I can't use my iPad Mini for journaling and affirmations, I use Google Keep, typing with my fingers on the virtual keyboard. Instead of mindlessly scrolling, I document my distractions in Google Keep.

OneNote

I use OneNote for:

  • Journals: Handwritten entries on my iPad.
  • Learning Notes: Documenting book notes, systems, and plans.
  • Weekly Plans: Organizing my week.
  • Work Profiles: Managing work projects and key details.

Nebo App on iPad Mini

The Nebo app is exclusively for my daily handwritten affirmations. There's something uniquely beneficial about writing things digitally but by hand, making it both useful and accessible.

Obsidian

Obsidian is my "second brain." I am gradually replacing OneNote for all types of learning and note-taking with Obsidian, excluding specific projects. It’s excellent for writing and connecting my thoughts, and I am amazed at how well this system works for me.

Mindomo Mindmaps

Mindomo is my preferred mind-mapping tool, which I use for learning, taking notes, and preparing for interviews. It helps me visualize my ideas and differentiate how I present my learning in interviews and other occasions. It’s superior to word documents or presentations for thinking about the interconnections between ideas.

Paper Pocket Notebooks

I am cultivating a practice of not always being on my phone or screens. Instead, I use pocket notebooks to capture handwritten notes, tasks, and ideas. Eventually all the notes here get transferred to my Obsidian

Work Paper Notebooks

These are dedicated to work-related notes and tasks.

Kindle Highlights

I highlight text in Kindle books and occasionally add notes. For paper books, I prefer taking notes in a separate notebook, as the margins in books are too small for my handwriting.

Where I Publish

  • Blog: This blog, Canvas is the destination for all my writing, including daily blogs.
  • Instagram: I capture book notes and other content. For the added visual medium and for interactions.
  • Twitter/X: I engage in conversations and share retweets/reposts. But I need to explore how I can publish on X for more visibility and traction.

Moving forward, I may not continue the daily blog as I focus on collecting and elevating my ideas, but I still plan to continue writing as much as possible as it is addictive.