It’s worth a nickel

The last few books I’ve read have either been historical non-fiction, or related to business, communications and that ilk.

So for a change, I detoured to The Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards. I found my way to the novel via a recommendation from my dear friend Tara; her recommendations on most things creative are a sure win.

To be honest, I found the book to be a bit slow getting started. After the disaster that was All the Presidents’ Children, I found myself frightened—could I even make it through the book? I couldn’t possibly give up on two books in a row, could I?

I worried for nothing. Once the book caught hold of me, there was no turning back. The captivating story set in the 1960s, and leading its readers right through the quarter century that follows, is the story of the Henry family. Dr. David Henry and his wife Norah set out to have themselves the perfect nuclear family, but when Dr. Henry discovers—during childbirth—that his wife is delivering twins, he faces a moral dilemma. You see, his son Paul is born first, and scores “a nine on the Apgar… very good.” Up next is Phoebe, and Dr. Henry recognizes that she has been born with Down syndrome.

In the 1960s, that meant an early death, following an unhappy life. In an instant, he decides to ask his nurse to take Phoebe to an institution, and he tells his wife Norah that Phoebe was stillborn.

This split-second decision shapes the rest of their lives. In time, I found sympathy for each of the main characters, and found myself wondering what I’d have done in Dr. Henry’s shoes.

… and I kind of love that headline, because it’s so provocative.

Perhaps needless to say, I don’t actually know any of the children of US Presidents. In fact, most of them died long before I was born, but even the contemporary ones don’t exactly run in the same social circles that I do, and so I’ve never even been given a chance to actually hate any of them.

Having said that, though, I do hate All the Presidents’ Children by Doug Wead.

I rarely refuse to finish a book. I feel that once I’ve invested the time to select, pick up, and begin to read a book, it deserves my attention. It deserves to be read.

Mr. Wead, you’ve challenged that assertion. Your bland, uninspired prose allowed me to quit on page 76. The book jumps around constantly, to the point that I was left uncertain more than once as to whom I was reading about. Pronouns are used indiscriminately, leaving me to wonder if the book was edited at all. I wonder whether the authors close connections to the Bush family are the reason this book was published at all; had it been left to my devices, it would have been tossed into the fire as so much kindling.

In short: don’t bother.

Every once in a while, you find a book that just really inspires. Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die by brothers Chip and Dan Heath, is one of those books.

I found myself laughing while reading this book about selling and marketing your ideas! Their combined experience and wisdom made for a great read… which is fitting, since the Heaths suggest that the single best way to sell your idea is to make it into a good story, because that’s how people get attached. They’ve followed their own advice and made what could have been a dry presentation of a framework for selling ideas into a fun book for anyone to read.

I consider this recommended reading for anyone who has ever needed to convince another person of anything. And yes, that’s everyone in the world. Whether you’re actually working in a marketing or advertising role, or you’re in sales, or not… we’re all selling ourselves and our ideas every day.

How often do you read a marketing book that uses urban legends as an example of an idea that sticks? Not too often, but this one does! Here are Chip and Dan’s six principles for ideas that stick:

1. Simplicity. But think proverbs, not sound bites.
2. Unexpectedness. This is how you catch people’s attention, but it’s not how you hold it.
3. Concreteness. Especially when dealing with new information, it must be tangible and accessible, not abstract and theoretical.
4. Credibility. If nobody believes you, it doesn’t matter how good the idea is. There are many ways to establish credibility; find one.
5. Emotions. Engage people’s feelings, and you’re more than halfway there. And it doesn’t have to be only positive emotions!
6. Stories. This is our common human practice. We swap stories, and we’re more likely to swap them if they’re simple, unexpected, concrete, credible and emotional.

Pick it up. Read it. Love it.

I really enjoy biographies, especially of presidential families including the Kennedys and Roosevelts. I feel something of a connection to the Roosevelts, since FDR and Eleanor spent much of their lives here in New York’s Hudson Valley, where I now live. I’ve had the opportunity to visit both FDR’s childhood home in Hyde Park, as well as Eleanor’s quaint Val-Kill cottage, where she lived after FDR’s death.

So I was inspired to pick up Eleanor and Harry: The Correspondence of Eleanor Roosevelt and Harry S. Truman, a compendium of the letters exchanged between Mrs. Roosevelt and President Truman in the years after FDR’s death.

First things first, I think it’s a shame that the art of letter writing is dying out—a sentiment I share with Gloria Steinem, who wrote the book’s forward. I am not sure that I share her optimism that email has the potential to bring that art back to us, since it seems things like Twitter and Facebook make us less likely to craft careful and thoughtful prose… it’s far too easy to write mindless drivel.

It’s an incredibly interesting insight into the lives of these two influential Americans, that their correspondence has been shared publicly. What I read showed me the admiration and pride that they both had in the American political system, despite their personal differences. I was also surprised at the language used, especially by Mrs. Roosevelt: her writing is extremely self-deprecating, yet I don’t believe she viewed herself as inconsequential or believed her opinions shouldn’t be valued by Mr. Truman (both during and after his presidency). I wonder whether that style reflected her true personality, or was simply a consequence of the time in which she lived? For his part, Truman understood the role of Eleanor Roosevelt as “First Lady of the World,” and felt that appropriate respect and deference must be shown to her.

Could you imagine this relationship happening today? Laura Bush exchanging emails with Barack Obama? I certainly can’t! Nonetheless, I enjoyed the book immensely.

Because I’d like to have the opportunity to be a manager someday, I often pick up books that I think will give me better insight in how to motivate people. I also just love learning and often find a compelling story is the best way to take in new information.

If you’re looking for a compelling story, First, Break All the Rules is not for you. It is a dry, fact-based account of a long-term study performed by the Gallup organization, in which they interviewed over 80,000 managers to figure out what makes great managers different from mediocre ones.

Now, although it’s not a compelling story, it is absolutely chock full of great information. It’s well worth a skim if you’re interested in the topic, but you may want to opt out of a careful, cover-to-cover read.

One of the most fascinating topics for me was the way Buckingham and Coffman separate skills from talents. They consider the former to be learned or learnable, whereas the latter are innate and able to be honed, but unlikely to be created from nothing. Appendix C in the volume is a great reference that lists various talents and attempts to organize them; I actually kept a copy of this because I think it’s a great list to think about when choosing people to fill roles on a project or team.

As I read, I also noted things about some of the great (and less-than-great) managers I’ve had in my lifetime. The authors note, and I heartily agree, that most great managers make it look easy. They use their own natural talents to bring out the best in their people, and every single manager I’ve had shows one or more of the characteristics mentioned in the book. To me, that’s encouraging: even my worst manager ever (and I name no names!) did some things right. That’s a story of possibility, of opportunity, of redemption: we can all improve, and we can all capitalize on our talents to help us get there.