The second quarter of 2021 is over, and it was an intense one at work. I’ve been working on some features for WordPress 5.8. It’s a packed version by my standards and those of many others. It will be published in a few days, and I’m excited to see it in the wild.
My laptop broke
While I was sprinting to get things done, half my screen stopped working. The day the technician came for reparations, I had a semi-working screen, and that same day, when he left, the motherboard didn’t boot. Not ideal.
I wish the information, service, and time-to-response had been better and quicker, but I was told I hadn’t paid enough for that. The support service was a team in London that ordered the new material through an external carrier based in the Netherlands to be delivered to a local company in A Coruña that would come to Lugo to replace the pieces. So many links.
The world runs on the optimism of the 90%: when everything goes as expected, everything is fine, most of the time anyway. But, unfortunately, upon the unexpected, the experience is terrible. The hope is that the bad times are offset by the fact that, if you’re lucky, they only happen once every 15 years or so — nobody cares to optimize for the customer experience of that little 10%, they instead optimize to reduce the costs as much as they can.
This is a long way to say that I had to use Windows for a whole week of work. First time I had to for more than a couple of minutes since… 2005? TLDR: it works, and I will still choose Linux every time.
Hat tip to Marcus for the WSL2 guide. It helped me to set up a Linux subsystem that runs on Windows.
Why aren’t we, developers, excellent writers if we spent so much time at it? Starting from this question, the talk touches on specific practices you can do to improve your writing daily. An over-produced talk that delivers. It comes with a site with references, and it inspired me to get On Writing Well by William Zinserr (ongoing) off my queue to my reader.
Apelidos da Galiza, de Portugual, e do Brasil. Vasques, son of Vasco; Romero, a pilgrim who goes in romaria (religious pilgrimage); Oliveira, a testimony of the existence of the olive plant in the Northwest of the Iberian peninsula. Those are the things you learn in this book: a fantastic introduction to the beauty of surnames and how they can serve as a living museum of the society that gave them birth.
The dagger of time
We were escape-room aficionados before the pandemic. We still are; we just don’t practice as much as before. So, as another step in welcoming our former lives, we booked an escape room for two: The dagger of time, by Ubisoft, in Compostela.
It’s the third VR room we do in that space. It has some similar mechanics to The Lost Pyramid and Medusa’s gate but still innovates in a few ways. It was a lot of fun.
I’m a remote worker that cooks daily. I don’t think I had shared this before. Upon trial and error, we’ve curated a set of recipes that don’t take a lot of time and are healthy. Sometimes, they’re also tasty, if I’m lucky cooking that day.
Over the past years, we’ve incorporated more variety into our salads catalog. Apparently, they’re a good choice for a picnic if you live through a pandemic. These are three that I prepared in June:
Did it ever happen to you that during a phone call you had to spell something? An airline code, an email, an invoice number, etc. At those situations, I always regretted not having learned the NATO phonetic alphabet.
Flash forward to September 2019: I found myself in a talk about learning and memory techniques during the Automattic Grand Meetup. It picked my interest so I decided to investigate a bit and signed up for the Learning how to Learn MOOC.
In this post I’m sharing how I’ve applied my new gained knowledge to learn something useful that I had put off for a long time. I also hope to interest you in the topic of learning how to learn.
1 – Deal with procrastination
The main reason I had postponed learning the NATO Phonetic Alphabet is that I thought I had a bad memory and it’ll be a lot of work — I procrastinated. Procrastination is a mechanism our brain uses to cope with challenging feelings induced by certain tasks: perhaps we believe we can’t do something, maybe it’s boring, makes us feel anxious, etc. Essentially, procrastination is not about time-management, but about emotion-management.
To deal with procrastination means to deal with and rewire our emotions about the task. Doesn’t sound easy, right? The good thing is that there are a few practical things we can do:
Time-box short periods of focus, break and reward. Time 20 minutes during which you’ll exclusively focus on the task at hand and do whatever you can: no pressure in the output, just focus on doing anything. Then, give yourself a break and a reward — exercise a little, eat some chocolate, surf the web, whatever works for you. Do not forget about the reward! It’s a crucial part of rewiring your feelings about the task. Finally, repeat the process a couple of times more.
Focus on the process, not the product. Planning and have small wins/rewards is an important part of dealing with procrastination. Things like writing down the next tasks you’ll work on at the end of your day or cross-off the ones you’ve done help you focus on the steps. By focusing on the process, not the final goal, it’s easy to control our feelings of discomfort.
For me, the first focused session was about familiarizing myself with the NATO Phonetic Alphabet: essentially, I surfed the web and read aboutit. Then, I stopped and gave myself a reward. My second session was about how would one go about memorizing all the 26 symbols (see next tip). Break and reward. I spent the third session developing the system I had researched. Again, break and reward. By the fourth session, I was ready to start memorizing.
2 – Tap the visual and spatial memory
Through many thousands of years, our brain has evolved to be amazingly good at remembering places, visual things, as well as anything that involves the senses. When dealing with abstract concepts it’s useful to encode them into memory leveraging those abilities. For someone who hadn’t consciously done this before and feels that has an average memory, this is easier said than done.
If we look around us, though, there are multiple real-life examples we can draw inspiration from:
I hadn’t done it before, so I spent my second focused session thinking about how would I put in practice the things I had learned. I also reviewed what others did for inspiration: the NATO publishes a guide that links images to the words, some people create a song, etc. Of all the things that I found, the approach suggested by Nelson Dellis -4th time winner of the USA memory championship- was the most appealing to me: he creates an image by merging the letter and the word associated with it.
For example, for the pair A-Alpha he pictures sprouts of Alfalfa coming out of the A letter; for the pair P-papa he pictures a cartoon of his dad with the shape of the P; for the pair U-uniform he pictures the U being a basket where you’d store uniforms; and so on. I highly recommend the video if you’re interested in the mechanics of this.
After I knew the system I wanted to use, I decided it was time for a break (and a reward!). After a while I came back energized to create my own — actually, my unconscious brain already had already suggested some ideas (see next tip). Being my first time ever doing this kind of thing, it took around an hour to come up with my own memorable images for each one of the 26 letter-word pairs.
3 – Focus, rest, and recall
Now that I had a system in place, the next step was memorizing. I went through the phonetic list stopping a few seconds in each of the images I had created. After a few rounds, I stoped and did other things. Then I tried recalling them from memory: I didn’t get all of them but I did get many. I repeated the pattern (focus, rest, and recall) a couple of times during the day. The days after I mostly did recall using the Anki app where I had stored the pairs previously.
It turns out this strategy works a lot better than just going through the list over and over until you are exhausted. There are a number of things at play here:
Switching between focus and rest states helps your brain digest the information, so to speak. In the focus mode, you’re able to direct your thoughts to a problem. Although you can’t command your diffuse unconscious brain to work on the things you want, you can prime it to do it — aka make suggestions. How? For example, by taking a break after a focused session (go for a little walk, take a one-second nap like Dali or Einstein, do the home chores, etc.).
Space the repetition. Once you reach the point of almost no errors, repeating has diminishing returns — it’s just not effective and creates illusions of competence. To store something in long-term memory, you have to modify the forgetting curve instead. How? Spaced repetition. Instead of cramming a 2h session repeating the same material over and over, do smaller sessions spaced through several days. Useful ways to be deliberate about practicing is scheduling your review and study sessions in a calendar, use flashcards to keep track of progress, etc.
Recall from memory. Long-term memory is a storage mechanism that prioritizes which memories are consolidated and which ones aren’t that important. By recalling the information, we’re strenghthening the path to retrieve it later. In many ways the mechanism is very similar to paving a cowpath: a memory is strong when it was used a lot during different intervals. Recalling and testing yourself are the most effective techniques you can use to reinforce what you want to learn. Also teaching it to someone else, which is a good technique to uncover the holes in your understanding.
Although the tips I suggested here are universal, how do you apply them to a specific situation varies from problem to problem.
Take memorization techniques, for example: PAO, Major System, Mnemonics, Memory Palace, etc. Some are useful to convert concepts into images, others to link or inter-connect different ideas. It takes time to know which technique is more adequate to a specific problem. That intuition is only built with practice.
Other essential functions of learning that I didn’t use in this process were understanding and chunking. I had a list of 26 symbols that matched a letter in the alphabet and they didn’t have any other meaning; I also didn’t have any pre-requisite knowledge, so to speak. If I was trying to understand a mathematical formula or how a web-browser works, chunking would have been essential. The process is similar to putting together a puzzle and involves compressing the information, learning to deconstruct the concept you’re trying to understand, reason by analogy, transform the concept to a different mode/language (from a formula to a graph, from graph to simple words), etc. It’s a messy process.
The topic of Learning How to Learn is fascinating. There is so many practical things you can do to improve and some of them are so counterintuitive. It’s also a fun way to challenge the pre-conceptions about yourself and indulging a bit of goofyness while you work hard to grok something.
If this post picked your interest, I recommend checking the Learning How to Learn MOOC and/or the book is based from, A mind for numbers. They are comprehensive and contain extensive documentation and research, while keeping things actionable.
The magician’s assistant, by Ann Patchett, is a family story under odd circumstances. Set around the same time it was published (1997), it touches topics that were part of the life of many, although not part of the mainstream news at the time: violence in the family, how life differs in small and big places, homosexuality, and AIDS.
It’s told from the perspective of Sabine, the best friend, assistant, and wife of Parsifal, a homosexual man that lives with Phan, his partner. Sabine and Parsifal marry when Phan and Parsifal are diagnosed AIDS so Sabine can inherit their state. She is in love with Parsifal.
Upon Parsifal death, Sabine is shocked to learn that his family is alive, despite what he had told her. They are from Alliance, a small place in Nebraska, and want to visit Los Angeles, where Parsifal lived, to get a sense of how life was for him. Sabine agrees and tours them for a few days, in the hope of discovering why he hadn’t told her the truth. Through this tour, you are acquainted with the main characters. It’s like a warm-up before the real match.
Parsifal’s family turns out to be fine people, and the tragic event that made Parsifal break with them is revealed to Sabine. Fast-forward: she’s invited to a wedding in Nebraska, which she agrees to attend as an opportunity to connect with Parsifal’s childhood and find some rest. So we now have Sabine embedded in an environment so different to hers: a small town with little to do and few opportunities to reinvent yourself, a conservative society, and a family that had struggled (and still is) with domestic violence. This is the real match. We have now a vessel (Sabine) to cross the river of understanding: in one shore, a liberal society where you can be whatever you want; in the other, a conservative community that pressures you to be like the others.
The story ends with the liberal Sabine realizing that the only way that conservative family can break the vicious loop they find themselves in is by providing them an escape hatch. Perhaps this is also the message Ann Pratchett wants to convey: let’s be less judgmental and more empathetic.
This book is beautifully written. The rhythm is slow but steady, with enough details to fill your imagination but not too many to get in the way of the story. The use of magic as a second thread and the dreams to feed us information was great. It is a straight story, doesn’t have many layers to it. To a modern reader, it may feel perhaps a bit dated and certainly stereotypical in some ways (Nebraska, anyone?), but if you consider the time it was published (1997) I think it was actually a very brave book to publish.
This book was the Reading Club assignment for December 2018.
This is a character-driven story. Jules and Nicole are successful by most standards: they are wealthy, well-known, and have family and friends. They are also suffering an inner transformation. Jules’s parents have recently passed away and that event is the catalyst that pushes him to reconsider his life, put an end to his marriage, and give away his possessions. Nicole is a writer that’s suffering a block that has lasted for too long and has triggered an irreversible inner change. They’re both non-practicing Jews living in NYC and visit Israel as part of his longing for something else in their lives.
Chapters alternate Jules and Nicole. Jules is written in the third-person while Nicole is in first. Nicole’s part feels like a stream of inner thoughts at times, like a diary: raw, unconnected, unpolished, and without a clear place in the story. Jules’ is a bit more focused, but still rambly.
The plot has some under-developed areas and dead ends. I think this is intentional. Based on how well some parts are written and some vivid and rich scenes, I don’t think the author lacks the ability to write a novel. To the contrary, it felt like a sort of a meta-layer to the story, a post-modernist experiment to subvert the implicit reader-writer contract. The reason I think this is because, in the story, Nicole is fond of Kafka, and the fact that Kafka’s work was published after his death (although he wanted it buried because he considered his work incomplete) has a big role in the story; to the point that she plays with the idea that someone else has heavily edited Kafka’s manuscripts and created Kafka’s mythology. It leads me to believe the own Forest Dark is a little unfinished on purpose.
I’d say this book isn’t for everyone, I’d recommend a little research before reading. Although I tried hard to engage, the ratio of words that contribute to the story VS words that sound smart but are empty was remarkably low for my taste. It ended up being a little more experimental than I like.
This book was the Reading Club assignment for November 2018.
William Maxwell published this book in 1937, and I’ve read it +80 years later. One of the things I liked about They came like swallowsis how the story builds on the use of simple words and ideas, how it doesn’t need complexity to give the scenes a sense of fear, warm, or excitement. It just describes what’s happening, it is honest and beautiful writing, it isn’t pretentious but real. Perhaps that’s why it aged well.
From the perspective of three males -husband and sons- we are told about the accounts of a middle-class family in the United States at the beginning of the twentieth century – specifically in the Autumn of 1918, in the middle of the Spanish flu.
We’re introduced to the story from the perspective of the little Bunny, an 8-year old which comments on the adult world from his perspective. Then goes Robert, Bunny’s big brother, which I was prepared to hate after reading the first part – what I’ve got instead was a nuanced teen with his own struggles. Finally, the circle is closed with James, the father. Through the perspectives of these men at different stages in life, we learn what the author has to say about life, which is well captured by the title: swallows come and go, so does life.
This book has many angles a reader can enjoy: domestic realism, a historic account of the effects of Spanish flu at the beginning of the century, etc. One that I haven’t seen talked about is feminism and matriarchy. I believe you could read this as an homage to spouses and mothers of all times, but also as a plea for stopping offloading work to them, as for Elizabeth is the one that does the emotional labor, plans the future, and takes care of the house. I don’t think that was the intention of the writer, but the fact that she doesn’t get to say anything but through the voices of the loving men around her is just the perfect metaphor to channel that kind of message.
It took me half an hour to finish it. I haven’t read yet any of the Earthsea stories but there is no magic or dragons in Omelas, so I’d guess this is more of a Hainish taste. Being already familiar with the plot, it lacked a climactic moment and the story didn’t spark any more thoughts than I had already given to the topic when I first learned about it. It’s probably wise to avoid related material about short-stories you want to read if you don’t want them to be spoiled, but the advice is particularly true for this one. I wish I hadn’t read anything about it.
I still liked how it’s built on simple language and a raw metaphor anyone can relate to. Reading it helped me to consolidate this idea of Ursula being not a novelist but an anthropologist who happens to be interested in fictional societies. Writing stories about non-existing societies was her way of researching a topic, live with the locals, and explaining to us what it was like living in that world.
The anthology I bought includes an intro commentary by the author about how she came up with the Omelas word which was also fun and humanizes the way I picture writers work.
This book was the Reading Club assignment for June 2018, the last before the summer hiatus.
This is a thriller that builds slowly. Rachel is the main character, she’s a depressed, mentally unstable, and alcoholic woman that can’t cope with having lost her husband to another woman. Megan is also lost and has her own difficulties to find anything that fills her in life. Anna is a housewife and mother whose life goals are fulfilled.
Like in a jigsaw, we’re presented with partial and unreliable information about what’s happening to each one of them, which helps to build and keep the narrative tension. Through the story, they face different facets of emotional dependency, abuse, or personal struggles with life. There are some scenes that I particularly liked it because they embody so well one of the themes that give shape to the zeitgeist of our era: Rachel, in her daily train trips to work, invents any kind of stories about the people she sees through the window; their lives are always happier and out of struggles. We know that’s not true, but she doesn’t have that information. This made me reflect on our interactions through the so-called social networks and how they can be so much detached from the real ourselves in so many ways.
At times, I was so dragged to the story, that I even found myself reading while walking to board a plane.
Lately, I felt the urge to read fiction again, after a long time focused on tech and non-fiction. I was also looking to widen my perspectives and stay away from sci-fi for a bit. I found an English Reading Club ran by the neighborhood public library, and The kite runner was the first reading since I joined. Actually, a friend of mine had lent me the book many years ago, but I had forgotten most of it. It seems unfair that I did because the second read has left me very moved.
The book’s central character is Amir, born from a rich Pashtun merchant in the Kabul of the 60s. The first third of the book pivots on the relationships with his father and his Hazara servant during his teenage years. After the Saur revolution, the family flies to America and we are introduced to how was life like for Afghani immigrants, but also how our beloved character transitions to become an adult. The book’s third act goes back to Afghanistan, but to a different one, as it is set up after the Ismalic Jihad that ended up with the Taliban ruling the country.
Because I had already read the book I didn’t expect it to be able to generate so many emotions as I went through it. I was so wrong. In the beginning, I had some trouble to like it, and Hosseini’s way of expressing Amir feelings felt a bit pretending, but every time he focused on a particular plot, I felt engaged again. Certain scenes were a lot more disturbing than I remembered, to the point that I had to stop a couple of times, take fresh air, and make myself aware that I was living in a totally different reality than the books – that’s something I don’t experience in many books. Having to deal with my father’s death last year struck all kind of emotions and relived conversations as well – in a way, I think that helped the book to have more impact on me this second time, and reminds me that there are books that hold healing power if read at the proper time. Finally, I couldn’t help but think that the Amir and Hassan friendship is a metaphor for Afghanistan as a failed state during the many wars that beat the country in the 1974-2001 period. It seems to me as if Hosseini was trying to say that the country cannot be at peace until the Pashtuns and Hazaras are equals.
I’d say The kite runner is a book about guilt and redemption, a father-son relationship, and perhaps the main window to Afghanistan culture for most westerns. I think the book fares well in each of those.
This was the first book listening experience that I’ve actually finished. Sean Runnette‘s voice was adequate for setting the tone and rhythm – actually, sometimes I felt I was listening to Feinmann himself!
Having read Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!, What Do You Care What Other People Think? and some other papers/videos, most of the stories in the book I already knew, but it had some new material that made it interesting nonetheless. This is more mathematical/physical intense than the others, probably because it’s mostly focused on the scientific and less in the human Feynman – but also because many chapters are directly transcribed from conferences he gave. It’s also worth noting that, unlike the other two, this book was published without Feynmann intervention: it’s published 10 years after his death.
If I had to choose only a Feynman book I’d choose Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynmann! It’s better edited and has more variety. Then, if you are hungry for more, What do you care what other people think? contains new stories. I liked this one, but I doubt it’s a good introduction to Feynmann lifestyle, work, values, and character.