So you’re not a dancer. You’re not a musician. You’re not an artist or a poet. Why read this book? Because you have ideas: ideas for new population studies, new treatments for disease, and new ways to look at data. And this book will give you the habits that beget more good ideas and allow you to take advantage of them when they show up. For creativity, as choreographer and author Twyla Tharp stresses, is not an inborn characteristic nor merely the odd bolt of inspiration; it is a collection of patterns and practices that allow anyone to create—as long as they’re willing to put in the work.
Tharp begins by describing how she has aligned her own life to foster creativity, because “[e]verything is usable….But without proper preparation, I cannot see it, retain it, and use it. Without the time and effort invested in getting ready to create, you can be hit by the thunderbolt and it’ll just leave you stunned.” She knows her own “creative DNA” (there’s a questionnaire included for you to discover yours), creates and hews to rituals to make beginning a project automatic rather than scary, and daydreams creatively (see p. 30 for a primer on how). Included in proper preparation is mastery of the fundamentals of one’s art—the basic barre work for a ballerina, grammar and diction for a writer—through “perfect practice,” and a lot of it. (Tharp doesn’t let anyone off easy.)
She then arranges the rest of the chapters as a journey through her creative process, from how she “scratches” for inspiration, to how she determines the “vital…difference between good planning and too much planning,” to how she benefits from both resources and limits. If you’ve ever had to figure out a novel method of running an experiment because the money just wasn’t there to do it any other way, you know what she’s talking about.
She ends each chapter with several helpful and unusual “exercises” built around the same theme: getting out of a rut, or determining the critical “spine” of your work.
Perhaps because of her dance background, Tharp’s advice is rich with visual metaphor, such as her description of planning as scaffolding around a construction site that goes away as the building rises above the ground. This background of course gives rise to many exercises and habits grounded in physical movement, but they aren’t just for dancers; anyone can do “Egg” (112) or “Do A Verb” (203). They are, as she writes, “exercise[s] that teach…you how to accomplish the most difficult task in any creative endeavor: begin.”
So if you’re finding it hard to sit down and write that manuscript, or turn that great idea into a workable study, take a look at this book, and get into the habits of creativity.
For fifteen years prior to this book’s publication, author Roger Martin studied successful leaders, interviewing more than fifty of them for up to eight hours at a time, trying to find a pattern to their success. The pattern he discovered was what he calls “integrative thinking.” Such thinkers have the predisposition and capacity to hold two diametrically opposing ideas in their heads. And then, without panicking or simply settling for one alternative or the other, they’re able to produce a synthesis that is superior to either opposing idea.
Did you know that speakers who frequently pause for short periods are more persuasive than those who don’t? Or that not lingering on a date that’s going well can make a new relationship stronger? What about the fact that taking some time before apologizing causes the wronged person to view the apology as more sincere
Adam Grant’s New York Times Best Seller Give and Take has been heralded by Daniel Pink as “A rare work that will shatter your assumptions about how the world works and keep your brain firing for weeks after you turned the last page.” As a brain scientist, I can pretty much guarantee that unless you’re dead, your brain will be firing with or without this awesome book, BUT Grant absolutely delivers for despondent scientists and physicians who are under increasing pressures to produce, turn away from mentoring others and focus on the bottom lines of getting grants and seeing more patients.
Former Secretary of State Colin Powell offers leadership advice through storytelling in this collection of anecdotes and true tales. Each short chapter derives a lesson from an incident encountered in his military and political service, and occasionally from private life. Often chatty and rarely preachy, the text is as enjoyable as it is informative.
Which do you think would help the germ of a thought grow into a brilliant idea: Talking about it with others, who have their own sparkling thoughts and brilliant ideas, and recombining the best parts of each to make them as strong as possible; or locking it away without sunlight and water? If you chose the first option, you’ve stumbled on to Steven Johnson’s central argument: “we are often better served by connecting ideas than we are by protecting them.”
Although it’s now almost five years old, Send remains an invaluable guide to emailing appropriately to staff, superiors, friends and relatives. Oh, and with advice like “If you’re working with weasels, watch their e-mails like a hawk,” it’s pretty funny, too.