Book Review - Cure: A Journey into the Science of Mind over Body by Jo Marchant

Cure: A Journey into the Science of Mind over Body

 by Jo Marchant

The connection between mind and body during illness has long been at the center of a hot debate between the scientific and lay community, especially in Western medicine. Opinions tend to the extremes. Medical convention usually downplays the effect of the mind on healing. On the other end, New-Age nature babies babble about auras and essences. (Commune with the Earth Mother, and while you’re at it gambol through the woods and hug a squirrel.) In a balanced scientific approach, Marchant, a geneticist and medical writer, offers a thoughtful examination of the evidence in an attempt to answer the question: can aspects of the mind be harnessed to cure the body?

Placebos and Stress

Marchant investigates medical conditions with mental components. Placebos, for example, are a staple of medical testing, purposely concocted to have no effect on patients, yet they can. Placebos don’t change anything a person is not consciously aware of, such as cholesterol levels. However, Marchant notes in certain instances they are able to significantly alter pain, and can work better than, or as well as, prescription medications.  So much so, that even when people know they’re given a placebo, they still receive a beneficial effect. Still, they’re rarely studied. One reason is that placebos effects are often elusive and change depending on the type of placebo, shape, size or color, even the gender and culture of the patient. Marchant notes, “just because the benefits mediated by placebos are mostly subjective, that doesn’t mean they have no potential value for medicine.”  

Another area Marchant examines in detail is stress. Over time, stress can have devastating physical consequences, since it actually has the ability to rewire the brain. She delves into case studies involving the benefits of continuous care and supportive interaction. One program called Comfort Talk, reduced the need to sedate children needing MRIs—lessening the need for more medication. What struck me most in much of the reporting in this book was how it often takes only a very small change in treatment, requiring little money or effort, to greatly improve the benefit for the patient. A large part of Comfort Talk, for instance, is simply eliminating scary language.

Brains are weird.

Yes, they are. Marchant has written a fascinating book. Cure is neither dry nor dull, and filled with personal stories of patients and researchers, some amusing, some rather heartbreaking. Marchant ends with a strong plea for more scientific research to fully understand the role of the mind in health, but funding sources remain elusive. More than three quarters of clinical trials are paid for by pharmaceutical companies who have no interest in findings that won’t lead to the development of new drug treatments. Here’s hoping at least a few CEOs will read this book and put profit aside for the betterment of all.

  

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for a review.

Book Review: Brooklyn on Fire by Lawrence H. Levy

Brooklyn on Fire

I enjoy a book with a plucky heroine, even more so in historical novels than contemporary ones. Spunk is easy to come by in the modern world where nobody blinks at a woman with a nontraditional career. Not so much in 1890 when society relegated all females to second-class status with only a minuscule chance of escaping the dictates of rigid class structure. The heroine, Mary Handley, is a nice fictional addition. Sacked from the police force for her less than condescending attitude, Mary works in a bookstore and sets up a consulting private detective business on the side. Readers should note Brooklyn on Fire is the second book in the Mary Handley series, but works as a stand-alone story. I didn’t read book one and had no trouble following the plot. Levy makes enough references to Mary’s earlier exploits so that her family and relationship with the Brooklyn Police Department are easily understood in context.

In Brooklyn on Fire, a woman hires Mary to look into the possible murder of her uncle that happened years ago. When her client is later found dead, Mary follows a twisted trail of clues in the search for justice. She tangles with the Brooklyn political machine, upper class New York society, the local police, and her own family. Mary’s investigations eventually lead down the murky path of government corruption and into an interesting subplot that involves securing a water supply for Brooklyn.

The pages of Brooklyn on Fire are strewn with details of historical events and real people from the 1890s. Levy has a flair for describing rough-and-tumble life at the end of the nineteenth century. He mixes fiction and history in an entertaining way in order to depict the power struggles between the men who ran Brooklyn before it became part of New York City. The metropolitan area was a dangerous place, especially for a woman who pokes her nose into criminal activities. Luckily, our determined heroine also knows ju-jitsu.

Quibbles and Bits

Let’s face it, Mary’s romance with a Vanderbilt is a stretch. No matter how plucky the heroine, it’s not likely the two could ever have had even a short-lived relationship, let alone travel together in the Victorian Era as they do in the book. Also, in a novel with a large cast of characters, both Mary’s brother and another man are named Sean. Two people with the same name in a book always bugs me. These criticisms are minor, and any reader with an interest in historical fiction should check out Mary Handley’s adventures.

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for a review. 

Book Review of Nonsense: The Power of Not Knowing by Jamie Holmes

Let’s ring in the New Year with a little nonsense, more precisely confusion and ambiguity. Modern life is full of conflicting advice and unanswered questions which leave people with vaguely unsettled feelings. What happens when we’re uncertain? How do we make the best decision when faced with a problem with multiple solutions? Jamie Holmes has written an insightful book that tries to answer the question do you embrace ambiguity or be like me—hunch in a corner and sob quietly?

People fear uncertainty. The need to resolve anxious feelings is deeply rooted and multifaceted. It can also be dangerous, especially during periods of social, political or economic confusion. The desire for fixed solutions is so great voices in the margins are shunted aside. “Fear and uncertainty...intensify people’s appetites for absolutes.” Donald Trump gleefully mouthing a platform of wide-eyed hysteria that all Muslims are bad gels nicely with a study Holmes cites on prejudice. Prejudiced people cling to the past with rigid thinking, refuse to consider all sides, and “latch on to what is familiar, safe, simple, definite.”

Embrace failure

Uncertainty is unpleasant, but in the classroom under the right conditions, uncertainty is a very good thing. People who are sure of themselves, rigid, and uncompromising, are neither innovative nor creative. Those qualities come from not knowing an outcome and trying alternatives. Having your child fail and not immediately jumping to the rescue is difficult for a parent, but “the best way to help students innovate is ”to move beyond standard grading measures and reward students for their willingness to experiment, tolerate failure, and take calculated risks.” Feelings of certainty should not be thought of as failure, but rather desirable and the key to innovative thinking.

According to Holmes, the positive aspects can also be applied to the business word. Successful innovation often comes after a string of failures. A satisfied person doesn’t look to the future and wonder what if? That edgy feeling keeps you on your toes. While businesses routinely examine failures, Holmes produces examples from companies such as Ducati, Zara, and Piggly Wiggly that successes should be put under the same scrutiny. “Embracing uncertainty after success means…always question the roles played by unforeseen factors.” Knowing your success is more than luck is as important as having the reasons for failure.

Heavy on the social sciences, easy on the noggin

Although heavy on the social sciences, this is a very readable book. Holmes breaks down complex issues into easily digestible pieces and offers several entertaining thought experiments to determine your level of rigid thinking. I scored in the mid-range so for my New Year’s resolution, I’ll stop sobbing, get out of that corner, and embrace a little more nonsense.  On that point, I’m not ambiguous, but certain.

Call me when the force really awakens. Review of Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Meh.

Sorry, that’s the best I can muster. Star Wars: The Force Awakens isn’t an awful movie, but it’s not a great one either.  Read on, and I promise no spoilers.

Haven’t I seen this somewhere before?

A teenager on a desert world with a hard life who doesn’t fit in. An robot with a secret agenda. A reluctant hero. A masked villain with a mysterious past. A super weapon. No I’m not describing the original Star Wars. All those same elements are in this movie along with many other similarities. Star Wars was an iconic moment in cinematic history. Any new movie in the genre should be a homage to the original, not slavishly derivative.

The surprises are disappointments. Kylo Ren’s real identity is revealed halfway through the movie. Enough hints were dropped so that if you had been paying attention, his relationship to other characters was obvious. The news arrives not with a gasp, but with a yawn. While we’re on the subject of Kylo Ren, there hasn’t been a more irritating villain since Hayden Christensen’s Anakin Skywalker.  Whiny and grating, there is nothing scary about him. Darth Vader was chilling from the first moment he appeared on screen. He never told you what he was going to do to you. He simply snapped your neck like a dry twig when you didn’t answer his questions. The worst thing he said? “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” It’s still creepy.

Kylo Ren stomps around the movie like a petulant schoolchild. Why aren’t I popular? Why don’t the cool kids like me? The rebellion has nothing to fear from him. Every time he throws another hissy fit (and he throws several) I imagine the storm troopers rolling their eyes beneath the masks and thinking, Oh crap, not again. Doesn’t he ever zip it? Eventually, they’ll rise up and kill him. Not because they fear for their lives, but simply because they’ve grown tired of his whimpering petulance. Ah well, what can one expect when Kylo Ren’s master, Supreme Leader Snoke, isn’t any more threatening? He comes across as a cranky CEO rather than an archetype of evil.

BB-8 was supposed to be the new R2-D2. Not even close. A good part of R2-D2’s charm was his relationship with C3PO.  He nagged, C3PO protested. They argued, they made up. They were a metallic odd couple. The range of whistles and clicks had a funny, weird friendship dynamic missing from the movie. BB-8 is a cute little robot, but has no one to talk to except the occasional human. There’s nothing memorable about him.

Apparently, love doesn’t conquer all

The end of the first trilogy left you with warm feelings about Han and Leia. Two people who needed each other found each other.  Sure, the road ahead wasn’t easy. There were still dangers lurking, remnants of the Empire who wouldn’t play nice, but they had each other. They would face the trials together and triumph.

Nice to know we were all wrong. Han and Leia are now grumpy Grammy and Gramps. There is no passion. This is no romance. They seem more like brother and sister. Kirk and Spock had more sexual chemistry in Abrams’ Star Trek movies than these two. Ford and Fisher are actors. Couldn’t they at least have acted as if they once had a spark?

How to improve the series

I’m so tired of all the heroes with daddy issues. This film, like so many other blockbusters, embraces father/son conflict, hoping to pull on the heartstrings. It doesn’t. All it gets from me is a Not again. Don’t they have any new ideas? The mantra in bloated budget movies seems to be if it worked the first five hundred times, it’s good enough. The big boys in Hollywood need to cut back on their cappuccino budget and find money to add a few female screenwriters.  Women would nip that daddy issue nonsense in the bud and come up with something more creative to add drama and engage an audience. Better yet, use women writers who have children. They know a thing or two about dealing with whiny toddlers and they most certainly would never write one as a villain.

Why are the powers-that-be in Hollywood so afraid of a little warmth and romance? It won’t turn an action film into a bodice-ripping chick flick, but rather humanizes the characters. There can and should be a happily ever after for well-loved heroes and heroines in movies that are meant to be fun. It makes us all feel a little better knowing that love can conquer all—even if it’s only on the movie screen. Don’t take that away from us.

Pluses. Really?

Yes there were a few. In particular, the new cast additions were excellent. Rey made a plucky heroine. Finn’s transition from storm trooper to reluctant hero added a nicely done twist. Poe Dameron’s pilot had a gritty appeal as a seasoned warrior. The story should have focused completely on them and their fight against the First Order. Dump Kylo Ren and Snoke. Add a new villain, and the movie would have been ten times better.

More to come. 

Maybe the second movie will improve. With a young cast this good there’s hope, but I won’t hold my breath. The first time I saw Star Wars, I was left with a triumphant feeling, and a desire to immediately watch the movie again. Not this time, I’m afraid.  It was an okay movie with an okay plot that generated nothing more than a vaguely dissatisfied feeling. With all the money thrown into this project, the end result really should have been memorable. It's not.

Book Review: The Woman Who Would Be King by Kara Cooney

In the long twisted course of human history it’s rare to come across a woman yielding true power. Even highborn females were generally under the thumb of male relatives and relegated to serve as either prizes of war or political pawns. Cooney has written a fascinating history of the only known female pharaoh, Hatshepset.

Little is known about Hatshepset’s life. Egyptians didn’t record individual thoughts and motives, to them they didn’t matter. Because they “enacted their politics through the rituals of religion, we cannot know exactly where the affairs of government ended and the ideology started.”  Cooney circumvented the lack of information by imbuing the book with a quasi-biographic tone. Historical purists may turn up their noses since the author had no firsthand knowledge of Hatshepset’s beliefs and feelings, but the book doesn’t suffer from the speculation. This is less history than story. Attempting to explain Hatshepset’s motivation and sentiments gives a voice to a fascinating woman long dead who succeeded in a culture and time far different from our own and climbed to a position of power few ever achieved.    

As a teenager Hatshepset’s husband/brother died. With no son to succeed to the throne, she became the regent to the new pharaoh, Thutmose III, infant son of a lesser wife. She was both his stepmother and his aunt. Retaining her role as Egypt’s High Priestess, God’s Wife of Amen, Hatshepset built her political career supported by the Amen priesthood. By the age of twenty she claimed her divine right and formed a co-regency with Thutmose III. A shrewd politician, she eventually used her insights into the political and spiritual life of Egypt to redefine the nature of kingship.  

After Hatshepset’s death, Thutmose III began the long process of asserting his own power and erasing her contributions and even her name from the historical record. Poor Hatshepset. Early Egyptologists took the misogynistic stance that she was “a woman who took what was not hers and got what was coming to her.” In the end, Cooney writes “Hatshepset’s greatest contribution and most daring innovation was her methodical and calculated creation of the only truly successful female kingship in the ancient world.” She managed her rise to power without assassination or a bloody coup and ruled peacefully for many years. That there is so little known of her is more the shame, but in The Woman Who Would Be King, Cooney manages to imbue her story with the dignity it deserves.

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for a review.

99 Cent Sale for The Naughty List

The Naughty List

L. A. Kelley

99 Cents November 13-27

This is not your typical yuletide tale.

Murder, mystical artifacts, an invisible demon with anger management issues, and an overbearing cupid—not what Rosalie Thatcher wished for on her Christmas list.

The holidays had always been a magical time for Rosalie, but not this year. Stephanie, her new manager at Penrose’s Department Store, is determined to make this season the most profitable in the store’s history, even if it sucks the life out of every employee. Introducing arbitrary rules and stealing the affections of the cute temp Santa were bad enough, but forcing Rosalie into the stupid elf hat was the worst. The worst, that is, until she meets a real E.L.F. (Elemental Life Form) named David and gets lassoed into a desperate hunt for the stolen Naughty and Nice List. Now all Rosalie and David must do is dodge a murderous invisible demon and recover the missing artifact before hellhounds track them down.  The couple race against time for without the magical guidance of the Naughty and Nice List, the world will tumble toward eternal chaos. 

Excerpt:

Stephanie rounded the corner. She plopped a large cardboard box down on the counter. “I’ve decided on more festive attire for the staff to increase holiday spirit and, thereby, increase customer spending.” She pulled off the cover. Rosalie’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell is that?”

“An elf hat, of course. It’s festive.”

“It’s butt ugly.”

Stephanie glowered. “No one asked your opinion, Rosalie. No one cares about your opinion. Attitudes such as yours prove me right. You need more holiday spirit.” She shoved the hat in her face. “Everyone wears one. Put it on.”

Fashioned out of bright green felt, the cone-shaped hat had Penrose’s written in glittery gold paint smack dab in the middle. On the pointy top dangled a pompom the size of her fist that jingled annoyingly with the slightest movement. The rim, trimmed with bushy fake white fur, did nothing to offset the huge elf ears stitched in as giant flaps on either side. Rosalie begrudgingly slipped on the hat. Immediately, her head began to sweat. The ears itched like crazy.

Stephanie beamed. “Perfect. I told all the assistant managers to stop by Customer Service and pick up hats for their departments.” She turned on her heel.

“You forgot yours,” Rosalie snidely called out. Of course, Stephanie ignored her.

****

David sunk wearily into a chair in the break room, cradling a disposable cup in his hands. He appropriated the stale coffee from the pot someone forgot to empty out and clean. He barely noticed the bitter taste. Ten minute break…ten minutes was all he needed. The caffeine would keep him on his feet another couple of hours. He rubbed his eyes, willing away the crushing fatigue. Night after night David wandered Penrose’s four floors in a fruitless search, pulling open boxes, checking under counters. Although the nagging pull continued to graze his senses, The Book was nowhere to be found. He’d come no closer to pinning down the location than when he arrived. The mystical connection now appreciably slackened under his mental touch. David’s stomach knotted up in fear. Soon the link would disappear forever. Something alluded him—some special storage area, some door he hadn’t opened. Why couldn’t he find The Book?

In frustration, David drained the last of the coffee. He flung the cup to the wastebasket, overshot, and hit the corkboard on the wall. A clipboard crashed to the floor. He stifled a curse. Bending down to pick it up, his eyes strayed over the top sheet. “Motivation Memo from Stephanie Crowder to all Employees,” he read. “Below are daily reports from Sneaky Shoppers.” Oh brother, Stephanie is a real piece of work. She has her own secret police. He snorted in amusement scanning the list of ridiculous infractions.

“Now, now, Rosalie Thatcher of Customer Service,” he muttered. “Two transgressions—you’ll never get off the Naughty List with that attitude. Imagine, not remembering to say have a special holly jolly holly-day at Penrose’s. I see you were also caught without an elf hat.”

Elf hat?

His lips twitched in an involuntary grin. His dad would appreciate the joke. As David replaced the clipboard, he suddenly remembered Rosalie. She was the girl he followed to the security office. The picture of the young brunette with a friendly natural smile popped into his mind. A smile like that couldn’t be faked. She liked people. She liked her job. He wondered how she felt about Penrose’s now.

David experienced a rush of guilt. All around the atmosphere had changed. He was super-sensitive to the yuletide. Magic in the air, holiday spirit, whatever—there was always something indefinably optimistic about this time of year. Even as a kid, before he understood family responsibilities, he sensed the truth. As easily as he now sensed the diminished effect of The Book. Whatever goodwill the season stirred up rapidly faded. Hard-working people like Rosalie paid the price of his stupid mistake.

The young man slipped out of the break room. He had enough time left to make one quick circuit of the first floor before staff trickled in. He worked from the front of Penrose’s to the back corner, ending up at Customer Service. For an instant, his spirits rose. A large box stashed underneath the counter wasn’t there the last time he checked. He ripped off the top, pawing through the contents. Fingering the garish green material, David didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The oversize ears stuck out like a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong. The lining felt like steel wool. Had the holiday spirit been reduced to this?

A wave of despair enveloped him. “I’m so sorry, Rosalie.”On impulse, David reached into his pocket. He pulled out a gold-wrapped chocolate bar saved for later, swiped from a stash hidden in the store manager’s office. David scribbled on a sticky pad and pressed the note to the wrapper. He slipped the candy under the counter just before a sudden murmur of voices broke the silence. The staff had arrived. He ducked behind a rack of clothing in the back as a girl walked up to the counter, an elf hat tucked under her arm.

“Ears, Rosalie.”

She halted in mid-stride. A sharply dressed twentysomething in a skin tight pencil skirt swooped down on her. To get a better view, David carefully eased back the clothes hanging in front of his face. He saw Rosalie’s fingers clenched around the hat. He chuckled to himself. She’s pissed, but hides her aggravation well. Sadhri would definitely approve of her self-control.

“Stephanie,” Rosalie stated calmly, “the hats are extremely uncomfortable. Everyone hates them.”

“Nonsense, they’re fine.”

“If you simply try one on you’ll see—”

“I don’t have to. I know they’re fine. The hats put people in the holiday spirit and cheerful people spend more money.” Stephanie examined her perfect French manicure. “So close to Christmas is an awful time to be out of work.” Rosalie jammed the hat on her head without another word. “Excellent,” cooed Stephanie. “Keep that attitude up and your name will stop appearing on the Motivation Memo.” Without another word, she flounced off.

David knew he should dash-away. Every moment in the open was risky, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Rosalie in the idiotic hat. What would she do?

The young woman leaned against the counter glaring after Stephanie. She bobbled her head back and forth and spouted in a falsetto sing-song:

“I’m a special elf from Penrose’s

I wear the special hat

You are not a special elf

You’re a dirty rat

You don’t belong at Penrose’s

You don’t know how to play

Wiggle your tight ass out of here

Damn you, go away.”

David snorted. Rosalie stiffened and turned around.

“Who’s there?” she called

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Book Review of Out on the Wire: The Storytelling Secrets of the New Masters of Radio by Jessica Abel

Books in graphic form are not just filled with superheroes, Japanese manga, or women in push-up spandex bustiers. Occasionally, you can actually learn something.  Writer/Cartoonist Jessica Abel’s new book describes the ins and outs of producing radio shows at NPR. The oral medium of storytelling is well suited to graphics, especially in Abel’s creative hands.

Although the book focuses on NPR, the information applies to writing in general. Whether producing a podcast or novel, the creative processes overlap in several ways. Oral and written storytelling requires solid ideas and finding the right voice. Each needs a logical structure and a way to make audience care. As with fiction, the best stories come from “following some itch.” Catherine Burns, artistic director of the program, The Moth, makes a comment any writer can relate to. “The simplest way to say it is...who are you at the beginning and who are you at the end.” That’s Storytelling 101 for any writer.

In both podcasting and radio much time is spent determining structure, and Abel makes some interesting observations. Scenes in chronological order is the default, but not always necessary. Some stories start at the end in order to grab listeners. Screenwriters use a common hook. When a hero faces impossible odds, the screen goes black, and words such as Twenty-four Hours Before appear before the story takes a backward leap. Radio can do the same thing. Or as one producer notes, the structure is less important than what catches the audience and makes the story sexy.

Abel also includes practical advice for those wishing to attempt their own podcast. Getting started is surprisingly easy. A person needs a digital recorder, a set of headphones, a good microphone, and quiet. And no—the built-in mic on an iPhone won’t cut it if you want the interview to sound professional. More important is a little gumption. Mic placement is key. You have to shove that mic in a wazoo for an interview that’s up close and personal.

The function of sound and music also get noted. Music can highlight a story. Obvious spots for music cues are introduction of a new character or description of a feeling. As one producer says, music can be used to “shine a light” and be a “dousing rod” for hidden moments. Just as important is to note when sound or music are distracting. “You always take the music out when there’s a big idea that you want people to pay attention to. You lose the music so it stands out.” 

This is good book for anyone with curiosity about the work behind radio broadcasts or has an itch to create a podcast of their own. The simple graphic layout makes the explanations of the different facets of story construction easily understandable to the layman, and the cheery rah-rah, you-can-do-it attitude will encourage the beginner to take the first step.

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for a review.