Thoughts on Philosophy: Is studying philosophy pointless? Does it make you pretentious?

IDOPhilosophy

Photo by Janeb13 (from Pixabay)

In a previous post called Writing Exercises: A Book that Changed My Life, I talked about how Sophie’s World started my love for Philosophy. Now, let me begin by saying that I am by no means an expert on the subject matter. In fact, when we were studying the subject in college, I was a rather mediocre student. As was the case with Math and Physics, my love affair with Philosophy was very one-sided. But it’s a love of mine that’s endured the years, and one that I’m keen on nurturing and strengthening—occasionally through short courses but mostly through reading and listening to lectures and podcasts.

Now, over the years, I’ve noticed that Philosophy has a bit of a reputation problem. As a conversation topic, unless you’re surrounded by other enthusiasts, it’s bound to be a pretty quick stopper. People may nod or hmm politely, but it’s not very likely that you’d get any follow-up questions. Some people may even find the very word itself to be a bit of an internal ugh or eyeroll trigger. According to some friends, it’s just because philosophy is one of those things that are hard to get into. Some people find the subject inaccessible, boring, or even useless. Others have confessed to just finding people who talk about it really smug and annoying. And yes, the word pretentious did come up frequently and forcefully.

And honestly, I get it. I really do. People like what they like and are entitled to their opinions. I also see how philosophy isn’t exactly the most relatable or accessible, outwardly practical or interesting subject out there. In fact, a lot of philosophical texts are loaded with highfalutin words and stubbornly abstract concepts. I also get that some philosophy fans do come across as pretentious, arrogant, argumentative, and snooty know-it-alls. And hey, maybe some of them really are all those things and more. But what I’m really more interested in and concerned with are the harsh generalizations about the subject and its students that I’ve heard about or seen, (mostly online).

I think a lot of these misconceptions and generalizations stem from a misunderstanding of what philosophy is and what it’s used for. But before we get into the definition of philosophy and an enumeration of its uses, (things I’ll tackle in a separate post), I’d like to share a few of my thoughts on some of the criticisms levied against philosophy and its students.  Just my two cents, really.

  1. Not everyone who studies philosophy is pretentious or intellectually arrogant. To say that everyone who studies philosophy is pretentious or an intellectual snob is a pretty heavy generalization. As I’ve mentioned earlier, I’m sure there are some philosophy students who think they are smarter than the average joe or jane, but that’s not an always and everybody case. In fact, some of the most low-key, quiet, and humble people I’ve met happen to be philosophy professors or graduates. Pretentiousness and intellectual snobbery occur in every possible realm of study where conflicting opinions could arise—which is basically everywhere and regarding everything these days. I believe that being pretentious or having a superiority complex is more of a personality thing than a byproduct of studying or loving a specific subject.

 

  1. Philosophy is only as boring as every other subject you can think of. The word boring is incredibly subjective. What’s boring to one person is another person’s passion. Philosophy isn’t and doesn’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea.

 

  1. Many philosophy books feel inaccessible with their highfalutin words and hard-to-understand concepts. But there’s a solution to that problem. I don’t know about other philosophy fans, but I find original texts (translated into English) hard to grasp at times. To make it easier to study a particular branch of philosophy, I usually take short online courses, read Introduction to Philosophy books, and listen to various lectures just to get a better grasp of what a particular philosopher is teaching. I also think that some texts are designed to be hard reads with circuitous verse or logic, (Plato, anyone?), because the writer wants you to really pause and digest what you’re reading. It’s healthy brain exercise.

 

  1. Yes, some philosophers and their students may seem bullheaded or argumentative at times, but the end goal isn’t (or shouldn’t be) to be proven right. A philosopher’s quest is always to get to the truth of a particular belief or statement. This is where the Socratic Method comes in. As you can tell from its name, the Socratic Method refers to the teaching technique used by Socrates. Unlike most of today’s instructors, Socrates didn’t teach via key points and definitions. Instead, he taught by asking a lot, and I mean a lot of questions. It was his way of seeking truth. Naturally, this method annoyed a lot of powerful people during Socrates’ time, which eventually and unfortunately earned the philosopher his death sentence. Philosophers are truth-seekers, and sometimes this means pitting their beliefs against the beliefs of others as a way to check the strength and verity of their assumptions. Sincere philosophers will welcome being proven wrong if it means bringing them closer to the truth.

 

  1. We are all philosophers, sort of. Okay, so maybe very few of us have published books or articles on philosophy, and even fewer have earned MAs and PHDs in the field. But if you closely examine the foundations of many of our beliefs and principles, a lot of them are rooted, (at least partially), in some ancient philosophical movement. For example, in his book How to Be a Stoic, Massimo Pigliucci points out the similarities between an Epictetus quote (Stoicism) and The Serenity Prayer. The Epictetus quote partially reads, “Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us.” Now, consider the start of The Serenity Prayer, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” See the similarities? This belief that we ought to recognize and focus our efforts on the areas that we can control is also one that transcends religion. It’s a nugget of wisdom that secularists also try to practice.

 

  1. Philosophy has a lot of practical everyday uses. Though it may not be as obviously practical as studying medicine or law, or any other empirical subject out here, Philosophy is NOT a useless endeavor. In fact, here’s a bit of trivia: Philosophy is the mother of all sciences. Modern science, as we know it, along with the study of logic (mathematics) and even language arose partially from the efforts of the ancient philosophers. So, that alone shows the importance of the subject. But what about its everyday uses? Well, from experience, studying the different branches of philosophy has made me more openminded and emphatic. I find that the more I study philosophy, the less inclined I am to make snap judgments about things and people. The discipline has also improved my critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving skills by pushing me to think logically and outside the box. And lastly and most importantly, it has inspired me to always try to do good by others. All fine things in my book.

Ten Common Grammatical Mistakes Writers Make

10CommonGrammar

When it comes to writing, whether you’re penning a blog post, an essay, a poem, or a novel, having sound grammar is a must. No matter how golden your plot or message may be, if your work is littered with grammatical errors, then you run the very real risk of losing your readers before they even get to the good parts.

Now, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned about writing is that there’s no skipping the fundamentals. You’ll need a fairly good grasp of grammar to secure a writing gig. And if you’re thinking of getting your novel published, then it’s safe to say that you’ll need more than just a good grasp. Think rock-solid, strongman-level clench.

Another (hard) lesson I’ve learned is that no matter how good of a writer you think you are, there’s always going to be room for improvement. Grammar, for all its rigidity, is actually quite the slippery sucker. It definitely helps to brush up on your grammar once in a while. That’s exactly what I was up to when I came across the following words/phrases. Think of this little list as a cheat sheet of sorts—that’s certainly how I’m treating it.

So, without further ado, here are ten of the most common grammatical mistakes even seasoned writers make.

1. Using i.e. and e.g. interchangeably.

 When I was in school, i.e. and e.g. were exclusively used for formal papers. Nowadays, however, more and more people are using i.e. and e.g. casually and interchangeably, usually when introducing further examples of what they were referring to. Now, like their ever-trusty cousin etc. (et cetera), i.e. and e.g. are Latin abbreviations. They actually mean very different things. The key to using them properly lies in knowing their respective definitions.

Let’s start with e.g., which is short for exempli gratia. Bit of a mouthful, but the first word gives you an idea of what it stands for. Exempli is pretty close to example, isn’t it? That’s because the phrase exempli gratia means “for example.” So, if you’ve been using e.g. when citing examples, then good job! You’ve hit the nail on its head.

As for i.e., it means id est, which translates to “that is.” So, if you’re referring to something specific to clarify or solidify your statement, i.e. is the way to go. Now, some people use the formula “i.e. = in essence,” which is a pretty neat trick too. Just don’t forget the Latin phrase in case the internet police come after you.

Some examples:

I’m thinking of binge-watching some shows this week, (e.g. Mad Men, Mindhunter, The Good Place, Brooklyn 99, Grace and Frankie), and then tweeting nonstop about how much work I still have to do. That’s the plan.

I’m busy doing creative research (i.e. binge-watching Mad Men).

2. Free reign vs. free rein

 Homophones are very tricky, especially when we’re talking idioms and common phrases. This one is particularly thorny, I think, because in a way both statements seem to make sense. Free reign vs. free rein. The first one conjures images of being a ruling monarch given absolute power to do as one chooses. The latter brings to mind how one can gently loosen the reins when horseback riding to allow the horse more freedom of movement.

These days, both phrases are used in magazine articles and news websites. But according to Merriam-Webster, the correct phrase is free rein. It means to be given “unrestricted liberty of action or decision.” The phrase was originally a term used in horseback-riding to refer to a way of holding the horse’s reins/straps. Sometime in the 17th century, however, free rein founds its figurative footing and has since been used to refer to “freedom of expression or action.”

As for free reign, it is but an eggcorn—it sounds right and feels right but is ultimately wrong.

Example:

Some days it feels as if the people have given a monster free rein to run the country into ruin. –dystopian novels and dissatisfied constituents

3. With baited breath vs. with bated breath

Another homophone, but an easier fix this time. If you read the first phrase again, you’ll see that it doesn’t make much sense. To bait someone is to deliberately try to annoy someone or make him/her angry. You use bait to catch fish or whatever else you want to trap or hunt—I’m hoping not humans. A clickbait is when you get lured to a website or webpage—oftentimes through misrepresentation of content. So, essentially, it doesn’t make sense to use the phrase, with baited breath.

As for bated, it refers to a diminishment or a restraint of “force or intensity.” So, saying with bated breath is perfectly acceptable. The phrase means the act of holding your breath in anticipation, anxiety, fear, nervousness, or suspense.

Example:

He waited for her answer with bated breath, but she said nothing. Her face remained impassive as ever, even as she made a move to take the ring from his hand.

4. Of vs. Have (as in should of/have, would of/have, could of/have)

Now, you may think this one’s pretty basic, but it’s a mistake that a lot of people make. Though not exactly homophones, of and have, (specifically the contraction of the latter), are close enough in sound to confuse a number of people.

Of, of course, is a preposition used to refer to the relationship or connection of two items, things, or groups. That is to say that you use of when referring to something or someone that belongs to or hails from something, someone, or somewhere else. For example, you say that “This painting is truly the work of a genius.” Or you can say, “Hermione Granger is the brightest witch of her generation.”

Based on that definition, you can see that it doesn’t really make sense to pair of with should, would, or could, especially if your intent is to convey regret or the possibility of something. As you’ll see in the following examples, the right expressions are: should have, would have, and could have.

Incorrect: She should of known better.

Correct: She should have known better.

Incorrect: Had I known about this sooner, I would of acted differently.

Correct: Had I known about this sooner, I would have acted differently.

Incorrect: I could of sworn that was you!

Correct: I could have sworn that was you!

5. Emigrated vs. Immigrated/Emigrate vs. Immigrate

Ah, emigrated and immigrated—another set of words similar enough in pronunciation to cause serious confusion. Again, the key to using the right word here is through learning each word’s definition. See, emigrate means leaving your country to live somewhere else. While immigrate means come to another country to live there. Essentially, you’re emigrating from your homeland, and immigrating to or into another country.

For example:

Due to the rampant property- and business-grabbing of President X’s government, people were forced to emigrate from X-land in search of better opportunities.

They immigrated to the United States in the 1980s.

6. Peak vs. Pique vs. Peek

Sneak peek or sneak peak? Piqued my interest or peaked my interest? These are some of the questions I’ve seen online regarding these three words. Here’s what each word means:

Peak means the highest point of something. As in, to summit the peak of Mount Everest.

Pique, when used as a verb, can mean two things: to excite or to stimulate, (ex. piqued my curiosity), and to feel annoyance or irritation (His glib remark left me feeling piqued).

As for Peek, well, that’s when you use your peepers to look at something, (ex. She took a furtive peek at the exam’s answer sheet.)

Now, as you can see from those definitions, if you’re talking about the opportunity to see something before its official release, (ex. movie trailers, book snippets), then you’re getting a sneak peek. If you’re after the word that describes either the metaphorical or physical pinnacle of something, then the word is peak. For example, Based on last night’s game, Dejounte Murray is back in peak condition. And lastly, if you’re referring to excitement, resentment, or curiosity being stirred, then piqued is the way to go. For example, Malcolm Gladwell’s recent round of interviews has piqued my interest in his new book, “Talking to Strangers.”

7. Compliment vs. Complement

Some time ago, I stayed in a hotel that offered an array of very nice freebies. While the items were very much appreciated, the misprint on the card that read “complementary,” threw me for a moment. I was pretty sure the proper word was complimentary, but I’m not ashamed to say that I did double-check with a dictionary app just to be sure.

Turns out, the right word is complimentary. See, while both of these words may be rooted in the Latin word, complere, which means “to complete,” time has allowed both words to develop their own meanings and usages. Let’s start with the one that comes closest to its Latin ancestor.

According to Merriam Webster, complement is “something that completes something else or makes it better.” While the adjective complementary means “goes together well.”

A compliment, on the other hand, refers to the expression of praise, admiration, or approval. As for complimentary, the adjective can mean either “expressing admiration” or “something that’s given for free.”

Here are some examples of how these words are used:

The gravelly quality of Johnny Cash’s voice, coupled with his emotional delivery of the lyrics, complemented the dark and painful message of the song Hurt.

The fact that Johnny Cash chose to cover the Nine Inch Nails song is a massive compliment to Trent Reznor’s writing and composing abilities.

While planning my wedding, I spent a lot of time looking for complementary colors that would fit our spring-literary theme.

The hotel offered the newlyweds a complimentary basket of fruits and a bottle of wine.

8. Between vs. Among

Though often used interchangeably, the difference between the two words is pretty straightforward. You use between when referring to specific or distinct items. And contrary to popular belief, these items need not be limited to two choices. While the word among is used when you’re pertaining to things or people in a collective and not distinct manner. (Or is it non-distinct?)

Examples:

When given a choice between coffee, orange juice, and tea, I always choose the first as my preferred breakfast drink.

Contrary to popular belief, there can be honor among thieves. (Though that honor is tenuous at best, if you ask me.)

9. Shoe-in vs. Shoo-in

Perhaps it’s the foot-in-the-door association that’s done it, but there seems to be a large number of people who use shoe-in when referring to a sure winner. The right expression when you’re talking about someone or something that’s certain to succeed is shoo-in. You know, as in when you urge something or someone forward, as in you shoo them forward.

Example:

With her aunt as one of the judges, she’s a shoo-in to win the pageant.

10. I could care less vs. I couldn’t care less

Now, unlike the previous entries where there’s a clear-cut right and wrong answer, this one has to do with what you want to say. Of course, the common expression is I couldn’t care less, as in I don’t care at all. Hence the contraction in couldn’t. But technically you can say I could care less, if that’s exactly what you mean. It all boils down to context.

Examples:

I couldn’t care less about who wins the next race. My team’s already out of the running, so it doesn’t matter who wins first place. (I don’t care.)

I could care less about the results of the upcoming elections, that’s true. But it’s not in my nature to be apathetic about something that affects my family’s day-to-day existence. (I care.)

These are just some of the trickier grammar problems I’ve personally encountered while writing, or seen online while doing research. I’m sure there are many more words and phrases that we can learn together. What about you? Any other words or idioms you’ve struggled with?

 

Featured Poem: The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop

Fishing Boat

(Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay )

Emily Dickinson once wrote, “If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.” Now, I am not prone to literary chills, but I do know a thing or two about feeling overwhelmed when one encounters truly wonderful art.

One poem, in particular, never fails to evoke a visceral reaction from me—and that’s The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop. I’ve read this poem so many times, but with each reading, I still find myself inexplicably choked up and teary-eyed. The lines, “He didn’t fight./He hadn’t fought at all,” just gets to me every time.

It’s a beautiful poem rife with riveting imagery and layers of meaning. I can only hope that this analysis will do it some justice.

A Brief Background on Elizabeth Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979) is one of the most celebrated American poets in history. She began her long and illustrious career in 1946 at the publication of her first book of poems, North & South. The book, which won the Houghton Mifflin Prize for poetry, showcased Bishop’s exceptional writing style—a fine mixture of in-depth and eloquent prose coupled with guarded, almost detached storytelling.

At a time when confessional poetry was on the rise, Bishop stood out as a writer who could write about personal experience while maintaining a certain ‘distance’ from the work. Opting to draw the reader in through meticulous and vivid description, providing visuals so good you can picture and feel the moment, while also maintaining a level of neutrality and objectivity in the narrative. This is something we see clearly in one of her most well-known works, The Fish.

Style and Tone

Written in free verse and first-person, The Fish consists of seventy-six lines. While the poem itself is highly descriptive, each line is made deliberately brief, allowing the eye to linger and process the details of the poem and the intricacies of the fish’s anatomy. The narrator somehow fades into the background. Though it is her voice that we hear and her actions that set the scene—I caught/I thought/I looked/I admired/I saw/I stared/I let the fish go—there is undeniable impartiality to her tone.

We are left to infer how the persona feels about the fish and why she would let such a prize catch swim away. I believe this is intentional. By maintaining some level of distance, our narrator allows us to focus on the fish and to commiserate with its plight. We are given the opportunity to put ourselves in the fisherwoman’s shoes. To see through her eyes why this fish is different, why it deserves to live, without overtly directing us to the answer.

The occasional dash provides an even bigger pause point for the reader, conveying the natural cadence and interruptions of a person’s speech and thought, or rather, afterthought process. This, along with Bishop’s use of alliteration (backed, packed/breathing in, terrible oxygen/caught, fought), repetition (wallpaper, gills, rusted, and rainbow), and internal rhymes, creates a rhythmic and almost musical reading experience.

Further analysis of The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop

The poem begins with a straightforward statement—I caught a tremendous fish. In a way, it almost sounds like a brag. It’s as if the persona is telling us with pride that this is a special fish, a prize catch. She goes through the motions of pulling the fish up to reel it into her boat. Then, the tone quickly shifts and slides into mild confusion. He didn’t fight./He hadn’t fought at all.

Now, the reader doesn’t need to be a seasoned fisherman/woman to understand that this isn’t normal behavior for caught fish. Normally, a fish would instinctively thrash and resist its being pulled out of water. But this fish was different. He simply hung a grunting weight, as if it were resigned to its fate. The lack of fight in the fish pushes the fisherwoman to closely inspect her catch.

She first notices its age. This fish was no youngling. She describes the fish as being battered, venerable, and homely, with brown skin like ancient wallpaper, speckled with barnacles and even infested with sea-lice. Notice the curious word she uses to describe the fish—venerable, which means esteemed and revered. Somehow, in her observations, the tone had shifted to awe. Even as she speaks of its frightening gills, its coarse white flesh packed in like feathers, its shiny entrails, and eyes that don’t look so much as simply tip into the light, the persona has already begun to identify with the fish. To see it, not as a catch, but as a living, breathing being, much like herself.

It is when the persona begins to admire the fish’s jaw—grim, weaponlike, but also aching—that Bishop heavily hints at the deciding factor for the fisherwoman—why she let the fish go. In painful detail, she describes the five old pieces of fish-line embedded firmly in the fish’s mouth. She likens them to medals or a five-haired beard of wisdom, thereby conjuring images of a weathered warrior or veteran. This was a fish who had fought time and again for its survival. The fact that it seemed to have finally given up now doesn’t make the realization less poignant. If anything, it heightens the relatability of this poor, battered creature. (For who among us haven’t felt bogged down and beaten by life at times?)

In that shining moment, the fish ceases to simply be somebody’s trophy or the catch of the day. The persona sees it for what it really is—a survivor. A creature that deserves her respect, admiration, and mercy. She identifies with the fish, for its story is a lot like that of mankind’s. A long and painful struggle to stay alive.

Bishop describes this moment of realization as something overwhelming. She writes about how spilt oil, a common occurrence in fishing boats, transforms into something spectacular—Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! The moment is so powerful that the persona finds herself unable to do anything but bow to this newfound awareness and simply let the fish go.

The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop

I caught a tremendous fish
And held him beside the boat
Half out of water with my hook
Fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn’t fight.
He hadn’t fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
Battered and venerable
And homely. Here and there
His brown skin hung in strips
Like ancient wallpaper,
And its pattern of darker brown
Was like wallpaper:
Shapes like full-blown roses
Stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
Fine rosettes of lime,
And infested
With tiny white sea-lice,
And underneath two or three
Rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
The terrible oxygen
–the frightening gills,
Fresh and crisp with blood,
That can cut so badly—
I thought of the coarse white flesh
Packed in like feathers,
The big bones and the little bones,
The dramatic reds and blacks
Of his shiny entrails,
And the pink swim-bladder
Like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
Which were far larger than mine
But shallower, and yellowed,
The irises backed and packed
With tarnished tinfoil
Seen through the lenses
Of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
To return my stare.
–It was more the tipping
Of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
The mechanism of his jaw,
And then I saw
That from his lower lip
–if you could call it a lip—
Grim, wet, and weaponlike,
Hung five old pieces of fish-line,
Or four and a wire leader
With the swivel still attached,
With all their five big hooks
Grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
Where he broke it two heavier lines,
And a fine black thread
Still crimped from the strain and snap
When it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
Frayed and wavering,
A five-haired beard of wisdom
Trailing from his aching jaw.
I stared and stared
And victory filled up
The little rented boat,
From the pool of bilge
Where oil had spread a rainbow
Around the rusted engine
To the bailer rusted orange,
The sun-cracked thwarts,
The oarlocks and the strings,
The gunnels—until everything
Was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go.

Writing Exercise: A Book that Changed My Life

My 2010 Copy of Sophies WOrld
My tattered copy of Sophie’s World

Some books will make you smile for a moment, others will make you weep and ache for days—I’m looking at you, Anne Frank and Elie Wiesel. But my favorites are the ones that stick with you forever, the ones that change the course of your life in one sitting. Now I’ve been fortunate enough to have read a number of life-changing books, and today, I’ll be featuring one of my earliest favorites—Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder.

It was one of my payday gifts to myself. The book had sat, fat, shiny, and bright blue on the cramped shelf, occupying more space than the other novels beside it. Price-wise, it was a bit more than what I’d pay for if I got another Penguin Classic. But I’m a sucker for hefty books in pretty packaging—one of my reading mottos being, “More pages = more bang for my buck.” So, with just a glance at the title and the author, Sophie’s World made its way home with me that night.

In case you haven’t read Sophie’s World, (a book I highly recommend but understand isn’t for everyone), here’s a bit of a warning: it reads more like a crash course on the history of philosophy than an actual work of fiction. Sure, the part that is fiction is very compelling and well-written, but the bulk of the book consists of philosophy lessons being fed via mail to the novel’s protagonist, 13-year-old Sophie Amundsen.

Now, this structure may be off-putting to other readers. And that’s fair. Most of the time, we pick up novels as a means to escape real life, not to be inundated by lengthy history and philosophy lessons. However, to me, Sophie’s World was the spark that started my lifelong love for Philosophy and Philosophy Books. Now, prior to this book, I have read and loved other think-reads from great authors like George Orwell, Milan Kundera, Alan Lightman, and Kurt Vonnegut. But Sophie’s World was the book that inspired me to really study philosophy. To read Plato, Sartre, and Kierkegaard (to name a few), to watch lectures, to take certificate courses in Coursera, and to listen to podcasts like The Partially Examined Life and Philosophy Bites.

By introducing me to philosophy, Sophie’s World has helped give direction to my life. It helped shape my life’s purpose, which is to keep learning, to constantly seek truth, and to always strive to do good. And for that, I am very grateful.

What about you? What’s one of your biggest literary game-changers?

Creating a Morning Routine for Night Owls

coffee-1390800_1280
from Pixabay. Image by Comfreak/Jonny Lindner

Hate getting up every morning? Me too.

For us night owls and slow starters, mornings bring a special kind of torture. As someone who has trouble falling asleep before 6 a.m., I know all about the struggle of pulling yourself out of bed right in the thick of sleep and dreaming. In fact, for a long time, I’ve found it difficult to get myself together and ready to start working until late in the afternoon.

Like other night owls, I hit the peak of my productivity, energy, and creativity around midnight. But the truth is that unless you’ve got full command of your schedule, are self-employed, or work the night shift, there’s just no workaround when it comes to daytime living. The fact is that we live in a world where banks, government agencies, and a large number of businesses still operate within the standard 8-5 or 9-6 schedule.

So, how exactly can a night owl adapt and thrive in a world that caters to morning people? Well, it all starts with establishing an effective morning routine. The following are the tips I’ve found most helpful in chipping away at my wake-up time. Now, you don’t have to do all the things in this list, but hopefully, you’ll find some of the items helpful on your journey to becoming an earlier, if not early, riser.

Make sure you’re getting enough sleep.

According to an article by the National Sleep Foundation, experts recommend that adults get roughly 7-9 hours of sleep each day. Now, 7-9 hours of sleep every day can seem like a pretty tall order, especially if you’re juggling two jobs, have kids to take care of, or have an ever-expanding to-do list that you need to sift through. But the fact remains that prolonged sleep deprivation can have adverse effects on your mental and physical health. (You can read more about the effects of sleep deprivation on Science Daily.) So as much as possible, do try to go for at least seven hours of sleep each night.

Now, on the days where getting seven hours of sleep just isn’t possible—and there will be days like that—I recommend finding your personal sweet spot when it comes to minimum hours of sleep. You know, that number of hours wherein you may still feel a bit tired but can otherwise power through the day with little trouble.  The number varies from one person to another. I have friends who swear by sleeping 3-4 hours most days, my husband feels at his best with 6 hours of sleep, and as for me, it’s 5.5 hours or 8.

Finding that sweet spot will take some time, but you’ll know it when you hit it. I just don’t recommend relying on this trick too often.

Get ready to get up at the same time every day. And I mean every day.

This might just be the most crucial part of your morning routine. Now, we all know that the key to developing any habit is consistency. And since the goal here is to get up earlier, it’s important to note that the only way to successfully modify your sleep-wake cycle is through creating lasting change in your body’s circadian rhythm and, consequently, its biological clock.

The National Institute of General Medical Sciences has this really informative fact sheet on circadian rhythms that’s definitely worth a read. But in case you don’t have time to read the article, here are some key takeaways that you might find interesting. First, your circadian rhythm is what determines a lot of your body’s biological functions. We’re talking sleep-wake cycles, eating habits, hormone release, and even your moods. Disruptions to its natural rhythm have been linked to various health conditions like diabetes, obesity, insomnia, and even depression and bipolar disorder.

So, where does waking up early fit in this scenario? Well, here’s your second takeaway. As the article puts it, “Circadian rhythms help determine our sleep patterns.” It signals your body’s SCN or master clock to produce melatonin, a.k.a. the sleep hormone. This is a process that peaks at night. Hence most people feel wide awake during the daytime and then become increasingly groggy as the night progresses.

Because our bodies are predisposed to slip into sleep mode at night, theoretically, it should be easier to transition into nighttime sleeping rather than dozing off once the day breaks. Now, I recognize that this isn’t always the case. I, myself, have gone through periods wherein the only way to sleep through the night was with copious amounts of wine, a few sips of antihistamine, or a p.m. pill or two. But I’ve also found through experience that in the long run, nighttime sleeping is more restful than the lengthiest daytime snooze. Plus, long-term night shift work has been associated with a lot of health risks, including heart disease, ulcer, and even some types of cancer. This is why, unless you absolutely have to work at night, it pays to shift into daytime living.

Since changing your sleep pattern now will cause some ripples in your circadian rhythm, it’s important that you try to stabilize your body’s biological clock as soon as possible. This is where waking up at the same time every day comes in. By getting up at the same time every day for a few weeks, you’re employing the necessary change to your schedule while also giving your body the period it needs to settle into its new rhythm.

But what about the weekends? Well, this is the tricky part. See, getting up late should be fine once in a while, but sleeping in too often will definitely make it harder to turn this practice into habit. So, if you’re serious about making a change to your timetable, make it a point to get up at roughly the same time every day—whether we’re talking Manic Mondays or Slowdown Sundays.

Invest in the right alarm clock.

One of these days, you’re not going to need an alarm clock to get up in the morning. However, let’s be honest. If you’re reading this article, today is not going to be that day. Neither is tomorrow. So, go ahead and use your phone’s built-in alarm clock as your personal rooster for as long as you need to.

But if you’re a sleepyhead like me, chances are, you’ve found yourself immune to your phone’s alarm. That thing could ring, buzz, and ping for hours and you’d still be out cold ‘til noon. It’s a good thing that there are a lot of alarm clocks out there that are designed specifically for heavy sleepers. In this list from Health.com, there’s even one that will legit shred your money if you don’t get up on time. Now, that’s too hardcore for me and I’m too lazy to maintain another gizmo (other than my laptop and phone), so I prefer downloading apps. If you’re more of an app person like me, here’s a list of android and iPhone alarm clock apps from TechUntold.

I’ve tried about half of the apps on the list, but the one that has worked best for me is Alarmy—specifically the barcode option. I use the barcode of a book that I keep in another room, and the alarm just keeps going until I get up and scan that barcode. It’s equal parts maddening and effective.

To snooze or not to snooze?

It’s unanimous. All productivity experts agree that the key to getting up early is killing one’s snooze-hitting habits. But, honestly, I still haven’t gotten to that point where the first alarm is good enough. In case you’re in the same boat, one thing I recommend is to set alarms in three-minute intervals—and to also use your phone’s alarm. That way, it’s impossible to get back to sleep for the next 30 minutes or so.

Make your bed first thing in the morning.

According to this article from CNBC’s website, people who make their beds first thing in the morning tend to feel more productive and driven compared to their non-bedmaking counterparts. They also tend to be confident, adventurous, and sociable early risers. So, how can one simple habit boost a person’s sociability and productivity?

Well, productivity experts including retired U.S. Navy Admiral SEAL William H. McCraven, author of the bestselling book “Make Your Bed: Little Things That Can Change Your Life… And Maybe the World,” believe that this is down to that sense of accomplishment that comes with ticking off the “first task of the day.” This simple chore takes but a few minutes of your time, keeps you from crawling back into bed, and helps fuel your productivity throughout the day. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.

Find 20 minutes of ME time or Meditate.

Now, I don’t know about you, but one of the things that make mornings so distasteful to me is the harried feeling that comes with rushing from one task to the other. By the time I get dressed, I’m exhausted and up to my neck in stress that the only thing I want to do is crawl back into bed. But here’s the beauty of getting up earlier than you have to. You can make time to slow your morning down into something enjoyable. It doesn’t have to be a complete hour—though if you can squeeze that hour in without being late, then go for it!

At the risk of sounding hokey, sometimes all you need is a few minutes to sit down and take in the opportunities that come with the new day. Take a bit of time for yourself. Meditate if you can or just sit down with a notebook and map out how you want the rest of the day to look. Get your to-do list together. You may not tick off all the boxes on your list, but at the very least, your day will have purpose and direction.

Five Ways to Conquer Crippling Self-Doubt and Get Writing

5 Ways to Conquer Self-Doubt

Sylvia Plath once wrote, “The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” It’s a lesson all aspiring writers know to be true, and yet so many of us still struggle to apply that universal truth in our writing. For a long time, I’ve tried to figure out what it is about writing that feels so distinctly torturous. Even when the ideas are there, when a rough outline has been sketched, each word carefully typed on page feels like it’s being wrung out of you. Paralyzing self-doubt crawls out of whatever hellhole it’s been hiding in to sit firmly on your shoulders, whispering again and again, “not good enough.”

But here’s the thing about self-doubt—it’s not all bad. In fact, there’s a perfectly good reason why we’re all hardwired to doubt our decisions and actions once in a while. The truth is self-doubt is an integral part of self-preservation. Think about it. Our ancestors needed that nagging voice to remind them to be cautious when approaching large prey or sampling the surrounding foliage. Their very survival was hinged on equal parts of bravery and self-doubt. Today, in its simplest form, self-preservation may take the shape of something as rote and innocuous as making sure your car’s in tiptop shape before embarking on a long drive or doing a sniff test before consuming last week’s leftovers.

Self-doubt also pushes us to do better. It teaches us humility, and consequently, open-mindedness. Imagine if we were all gifted with supreme and unshakeable confidence that bumbled into arrogance. We’d all be convinced that we’re always right and experts at everything. It would be disastrous. We’d either be foolhardy daredevils putting ourselves and other people in constant danger with our reckless behavior, or we’d be argumentative fools furthering mediocrity with the belief that everything we do is nothing short of absolute perfection.

The truth is, people who think they’re the best hardly ever want to get better—and that’s a tragedy in itself. You may be the best at something now, but if you let your skills stagnate, someone willing to work harder or do better will eventually surpass you. This is why it’s important to maintain a modicum of self-doubt. It keeps us in check.

So, if a little self-doubt is good, why am I writing an entire post on how to vanquish it? Well, see, healthy self-doubt has an ugly, hyper-inbred cousin, that’s just as bad as supreme arrogance—Crippling Self-Doubt.  Self-doubt ceases to be healthy the minute it stops you from trying to achieve your dreams.

As Shakespeare puts it,

“Our doubts are traitorous and make us lose the good we might oft win by fearing to attempt.”

Crippling self-doubt is the windmill masquerading as a giant. Now is the time to unleash your inner Quixote and drive that lance into that monster’s heart. After all, some monsters may be invisible or even imaginary, but if they cause you visceral terror, then these monsters are worthy foes that must be crushed. That being said, here are five ways to finally conquer crippling self-doubt so you can get started on your writing.

1. Get in with the right crowd.

We all know that saying from Jim Rohn that “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” Now, there’s a lot of debate online when it comes to the truthfulness of that statement. But I do think that at the core of things, Rohn did get it right. It is important that you surround yourself with people who can help make you better. People who you admire, people you can learn from, people you believe in and who believe in you in return—or, as Aristotle puts it, Friends of Virtue.

As a writer, it pays to have friends who are writers or creatives too. Since you’re embarking on the same journey, it makes it easier to learn from each other and help each other become better at your chosen craft. But beyond having friends with the same interests and goals, I can’t stress enough the importance of surrounding yourself with positive people who will inspire you to keep reaching for your dreams. You need to be around people who will uplift you during moments of debilitating self-doubt, but will also be honest enough to provide real and helpful feedback when it comes to your work.

2. See failure for what it is: an opportunity for growth and learning.

“The test of whether or not a writer has defined the natural shape of his story is just this: After reading it, can you imagine it differently, or does it silence your imagination and seem to you absolute and final? As an orange is final. As an orange is something nature has made just right.” – Truman Capote

There’s a gorgeous article from Buzzfeed called 20 Brilliant Authors Whose Work Was Initially Rejected. It’s a great read if you’re an aspiring writer struggling with fears of rejection. Without giving everything away, the list includes J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, rejected 12 times, Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, shelved 26 times, Stephen King’s Carrie, turned down 30 times, and Robert M. Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, given the ‘no thanks’ a whopping 121 times! Ouch!

Now, I recognize that there are two ways to take this information. If you’re prone to negative self-talk and catastrophizing (like me), then you can slide into a snowball of panic and say, “Shoot. If these literary giants couldn’t cut it, I have no chance in hell!” Cue the self-pity party for one.

But there’s another way to interpret that data, and that’s to see the one quality that binds these authors together. (I mean, aside from the fact that they’re all bona fide geniuses of the craft, of course.) Some call this quality, persistence. Others may call it grit. But I prefer the word faith. You need to have faith in your work and your ability, not just to write well but to adjust to rejection and see it as an opportunity to do better, try harder, or try elsewhere.

Rejection is a big part of the writer’s life. I honestly can’t think of a single famous writer who hasn’t struggled at least once in his/her career. Whether it’s agonizing over writing something of value or having trouble finding a publisher, it’s always going to be a harrowing and painful uphill climb. But you don’t become a writer just because you want the spoils that success will bring. I mean that’s a pretty hefty bonus, but that’s probably not the reason why you’re torturing yourself day-in and day-out trying to squeeze out one good page or a single great line.

You write because you have a story to tell. You write because there’s a voice inside you that won’t shut up until you put pen to paper and try to capture even the slightest glimmer in the treasure trove of ideas locked up in your head. You write because writing may feel like torture but it’s the one thing that you’d rather be doing for the rest of your life.

So have faith. Don’t let something as natural and paltry as rejection derail you from your life’s purpose. See rejection for what it is. A roadblock. A chance to recalibrate, to review, to revise, or to stand your ground and say, “My work is an orange, and if you don’t like it, I know somebody else will.”

3. Write in Solitude.

“Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking.” – Jessamyn West

In an interview published in The Paris Review, Maya Angelou described her writing process, which was essentially checking into a hotel by herself and working for about six hours every day. J.K. Rowling is said to have written Harry Potter in various cafes in Edinburgh, with her baby sleeping beside her. Haruki Murakami, Stephen King, and Henry Miller meticulously set aside a chunk of their day for writing. Ernest Hemingway wrote early in the morning to avoid any and all distractions. He also wrote standing up, because, well, he’s Ernest Hemingway. And then there’s Jack Kerouac, who liked writing from midnight until dawn… by candlelight. Again, because Kerouac.

For the most part, it seems like all writers have their rituals. Some had very specific rituals like Maya Angelou, Ernest Hemingway, and Jack Kerouac. Others, like J.K. Rowling were content with carving out some semi-quiet space in a coffeeshop.

As I’m writing this, my husband sits across from me, pen in hand with a notebook open. He’s coming up with ideas for his next social media campaign. And apart from the occasional smile from over my laptop, we’ve pretty much left each other to our own devices. See, writing is mostly a solitary craft. You need time alone and aplenty to get in the zone of writing. You need ample stillness to listen to your thoughts and to have that inner dialogue with yourself that will help you build your work, word per word.

But what about collaborations, you might ask. Well, even when collaborating with other writers, there’s always a period wherein you need to stay quiet and focus on your side of the work. I remember watching a video of Neil Gaiman talking about writing Good Omens with Sir Terry Pratchett. He talked about how they divvied up parts of the book based on the characters and how most of their planning was done via phone. And look how well that book had turned out. It probably would’ve been very difficult for them to create Good Omens if they were peering over each other’s shoulders the entire time.

4. Resist the urge to compare yourself to other writers.  

“This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.” – either Dorothy Parker or Sid Ziff

Let me start this section off by saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with reading other writers’ works, especially if the end goal is enjoyment or to learn from their writings. Humility is an important part of the writing process—especially if you’re just starting out. Plus, there’s always something inspiring about really good prose. I’m sure you know what I mean—that energized feeling you get when you encounter a particularly great idea. You know, when you read something that is so moving that it becomes a fulcrum for your own writing. When you feel that way about other writers’ works, then it’s a win-win situation. The writer earns a fan and you get motivated enough to do something great too.

I suppose the problem starts when you read something and end up with a completely different takeaway. If the piece is so good it’s just too good, feelings of inadequacy may bubble up, tipping you over into the state of insecurity and self-pity. This happens to me quite a lot. In fact, one of my unhealthiest habits as an aspiring writer is to look up every author of every single book I love. That alone isn’t too bad, except I zero in on the writer’s age upon the book’s publication and if the writer happens to be younger than me, I agonize over this detail for a while. Oftentimes I end up on Google with the following search terms: “Is 33 too old to become a writer,” “writers who started in their 30s,” and “Is it too late to start over in your 30s.” I used to do this every single time and honestly, that little routine has done me no good whatsoever. It doesn’t inspire me to write. In fact, it does the complete opposite. I end up plagued by crippling self-doubt. Totally unproductive.

Another unhealthy takeaway you might have is jealousy. It’s when you read a bestseller that you think is so mediocre or so bad that you start thinking you can do better. Again, let me come clean. I get that sometimes especially when perusing the contemporary poetry section of the bookstore. But as soon as feelings of jealousy and resentment come bubbling up, so does a little bit of shame. Just because the book is not to my liking doesn’t mean it isn’t good or that I can’t learn from it. Here’s one way to reframe the entire experience: books we don’t like become bestsellers because the writers must’ve done something right. Whether the writers are excellent at marketing their work or they speak the voice of the current generation, there’s a lesson to be learned from these writers. Don’t miss out on this opportunity to improve your writing, or at the very least, your attitude.

5. Set aside your editing cap and write your sh*tty first draft. (SFD)

“Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something—anything—down on paper. What I’ve learned to do when I sit down to work on a shitty first draft is to quiet the voices in my head.” – Anne Lamott

Two months ago, I was having lunch with one of my closest friends who also happens to be a really good writer. I was bemoaning the fact that I couldn’t get started on my writing because I couldn’t get past editing and revising the first line. I asked her what her secret was. How was she able to churn out so many articles so quickly? She laughed and told me, “The first five drafts are terrible. The sixth draft is okay, but I do most of my editing on the seventh draft.”

That was really reassuring to hear. It also presented a bit of a challenge. See, ever since I started writing, I’ve always been the type to edit as I go. That’s why I’ve always been a bit of a slow writer. I believe the record was 13 hours to write a 400-word press release. I would go back and forth, changing this, erasing that, hitting delete on an entire document, all the while thinking “This is crap.” And I don’t have to tell you how quickly “this is crap” can turn into “I am crap.” By the time I reach the final line, I’d be so sick of my writing and hating myself so much that I would give the article a once over, send it out, and never read it again.

But this is one lesson that I’m determined to learn, and hopefully it’s one that will help you out as well. Don’t be afraid to write a sh*tty first draft (SFD) or a couple or even seven bad drafts. As Anne Lamott said, almost all first drafts are terrible. Just for today, embrace the terrible and just get that page done. Have faith in your idea and trust your own skill to create something that can be made better later on.

Keep the writer and the editor in you separate. If you write in the morning, set aside an hour to go over your work in the afternoon or the evening, à la Maya Angelou and Joan Didion. Sure, you might have to scrap a sentence or even a page, but hey, you’ll be writing! And that’s a terrific start to getting things done.

Book Review: Mr. Mercedes by Stephen King

Stephen King_MrMercedes
A quick snap of the book on my way out. Pardon the lack of artistry in the image. I promise the book is better than the photo.

When it comes to the horror genre, few writers can hold a candle to Stephen King. There’s a reason why both fans and critics alike refer to King as the undisputed King of Horror or the Grand Master of Horror Fiction. He’s just that good. For many of us horror fans who grew up in the 90s, Stephen King has managed to instill in us both a fear of clowns and a love for terrifying reads that will have us begging our parents for a night light or to check under our beds for imaginary monsters that reside solely and spectacularly in our heads.

There’s something to be said about how well Stephen King manages to turn the creature comforts and the reality of small-town living into something sinister and nightmarish. Birthday clowns and balloons? Here’s a creepy killer clown with a red balloon. Family vacation in a hotel? Madness, mayhem, and murder, or rather bloody Redrum. Man’s best friend? How about a friendly nip from Cujo? And as if high school bullying and getting your period for the first time weren’t horrible enough, King had to up the ante with Carrie’s murderous rampage. I still can’t look at tampons in the grocery store without imagining a gaggle of teenage girls screaming, “Plug it up! Plug it up!”

In Mr. Mercedes, King does it again. This time with a psychopathic killer computer repairman/ice cream truck driver. Except, there’s a twist. There’s nothing paranormal about Mr. Mercedes. No, this isn’t another one of King’s horror bestsellers, though I assure you that it’s just as terrifying as his scariest books. In this 2014 starter of the Bill Hodges trilogy, King ventures into the territory of mystery and hard-boiled detective fiction. And man, it’s definitely a nail-biter.

***Possible spoilers ahead***

The book starts out in the parking lot of a sports stadium in the Midwest, where thousands of desperate jobseekers are expected to line up for a chance at a job—any job will do. It’s 2009 and the recession has hit the United States really hard. The early birds camp out before dawn, squeezing themselves into the spiraling queue, trying desperately to keep warm on that chilly spring day. As cars begin to fill up the stadium’s massive parking lot, one vehicle stands out. It emerges from the mist in all its shining grey glory—a Mercedes SL 500. The lights of its headlamps cut through the morning fog before the car revs up and goes straight for the crowd, killing eight people and injuring over a dozen more. It’s a terrible image but an effective one. It’s one heck of a potent symbol for the inequality experienced by the working class, often under the hands of their rich employers.

In the next chapter, King fast-forwards to months after the crime. Here, we meet Bill Hodges, the book’s protagonist. As far as crime fiction clichés go, this book carries some big ones. Hodges is a retired and divorced lead detective who is profoundly unhappy with his newfound ‘freedom.’ He sits in front of the telly, day-in and day-out, occasionally contemplating suicide. One fateful afternoon, Hodges gets a letter from the stadium killer who calls himself, Mr. Mercedes. The letter is heavy-handed and an obvious taunt for Hodges to kill himself—after all, the Det. Ret. did fail to solve the biggest case of his career. Of course, it does just the opposite for Hodges. It fires him up, and we all know that a desperate man is always a dangerous one.

Now, because this isn’t a whodunnit ala Agatha Christie, King discloses the identity of the killer early on. It’s 28-year old Brady Hartsfield—the bland and forgettable computer repairman and ice cream truck driver with mommy issues and a dark, dark past. Months after successfully evading the cops, Hartfield is feeling restless for his next kill. He could have gotten off scot-free, but instead, he makes the mistake of targeting Bill Hodges. It’s game on between the detective and Mr. Mercedes.

Throw in a few more clichés—a beautiful love interest, (Janey Patterson), who inspires Hodges to fight harder, an unlikely duo as his crime-fighting partners, (teenage tech master Jeremy Robinson and anxiety-riddled genius Holly Gibney)—and you might think it’s going to be a predictable story. Except you’d be forgetting one thing: It’s Stephen King. Fresh and terrible twists are his forte. Just when you think you know where Mr. Mercedes is headed, the book careens off the usual path, starting you down on the fast lane and keeping you on the edge of your seat the entire ride.

Mr. Mercedes is a fast-paced cat-and-mouse chase that has a plethora of strong and well-written characters. While the book may not delve too deep into their backgrounds—barring Brady Hartsfield, of course, who might be evil to the core but knowable through his trauma and childhood experiences—we still get a good feel of why each character is the way he/she is. Personally, I really like the character development of Holly Gibney. We see a lot of growth in her character without compromising too much of her personality. As for the inevitable and trademark Stephen King scares, well, let’s just say that there’s enough unsettling and stomach-turning imagery to satisfy the most gore-loving of readers—this one included.

All in all, Mr. Mercedes is one heck of a page-turner and one that I’d recommend to all fellow Stephen King, horror, and crime fiction fans.

Rating: A