When I was in middle school, I’d spend much of my time in class daydreaming. Imagining myself in, say, a debate with someone I disagree with and going through a litany of scenarios where I’d try to convince that other person to change their mind. It’s a lot of fun. (My teachers would likely disagree.) When I grew older, I did more of that on my daily walks, and then about 11 years ago, I decided to start writing about creative ways to teach someone something they’re vehemently opposed to or just ambivalent about. I’ve published four books since then on this topic.
I wrote...
An Illustrated Book of Loaded Language: Learn to Hear What's Left Unsaid
I picked up this book to learn about improvisation and the theatre, but like all memorable books, it taught me about spontaneity and how freeing ourselves from the constraint of wanting to seem smart or original actually allows us to be more creative.
I loved its focus on playfulness and experimentation, as well as being a child at heart. Many of its lessons are relevant outside the theatre.
Keith Johnstone's involvement with the theatre began when George Devine and Tony Richardson, artistic directors of the Royal Court Theatre, commissioned a play from him. This was in 1956. A few years later he was himself Associate Artistic Director, working as a play-reader and director, in particular helping to run the Writers' Group. The improvisatory techniques and exercises evolved there to foster spontaneity and narrative skills were developed further in the actors' studio then in demonstrations to schools and colleges and ultimately in the founding of a company of performers, called The Theatre Machine. Divided into four sections, 'Status', 'Spontaneity',…
I read this book during my last year in college. I finished it in one day and figured there was no better personification for teaching in an unconventional way than the charismatic Richard Feynman.
I loved the story in one chapter about people attending his talks, being totally mesmerized, and then not being able to say what the lesson was about afterward. How we say something really is more important than what we say.
Richard P. Feynman, winner of the Nobel Prize in physics, thrived on outrageous adventures. In this lively work that "can shatter the stereotype of the stuffy scientist" (Detroit Free Press), Feynman recounts his experiences trading ideas on atomic physics with Einstein and cracking the uncrackable safes guarding the most deeply held nuclear secrets-and much more of an eyebrow-raising nature. In his stories, Feynman's life shines through in all its eccentric glory-a combustible mixture of high intelligence, unlimited curiosity, and raging chutzpah.
Included for this edition is a new introduction by Bill Gates.
This book gave me an appreciation for how diverse learning and learning strategies are. By his account at least, Nikola Tesla was able to imagine—or dream of, I don’t recall—the design of an entire working machine, down to its tiniest details, and then wake up the next morning and build it. And it would work.
His approach was very different from Edison’s, whom he criticized as diligent but slow and inefficient. This made me appreciate both approaches to problem-solving.
Called a madman by some, a genius by others, and an enigma by nearly everyone, Nikola Tesla was possibly the greatest inventor the world has ever known. He was, without a doubt, a trail blazer who created astonishing, sometimes world-transforming, devices that were virtually without theoretical precedent. It was Tesla who introduced us to the fundamentals of robotry, computers, and missile science and helped pave the way for such space-age technologies as satellites, microwaves, beam weapons, and nuclear fusion. Yet, Tesla still remains one of the least-recognized scientific pioneers in history. Certainly he was one of the strangest of scientists…
I understand better by sketching things on paper. I couldn’t get abstract ideas first go, I had to draw them out. Someone on the Internet recommended that I get ahold of this book, and I’m glad I did.
It’s an encyclopedia of facts, but all explained using relative magnitudes. So instead of telling me a giraffe is this tall, I get to see it relative to a horse. I love that way of teaching.
I bought this book when I first got into the field of data visualization. I wasn’t planning on learning how to create comics; I just wanted to see how someone from a different discipline—a comic artist—thought about position, color, meaning, and communicating a whole lot of things in a compact format.
The bestselling international classic on storytelling and visual communication "You must read this book." - Neil Gaiman Praised throughout the cartoon industry by such luminaries as Art Spiegelman, Matt Groening, and Will Eisner, Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics is a seminal examination of comics art: its rich history, surprising technical components, and major cultural significance. Explore the secret world between the panels, through the lines, and within the hidden symbols of a powerful but misunderstood art form.
The creators of An Illustrated Book of Bad Arguments return with a timely guide to rhetoric. Have you ever wondered how language shapes a narrative, how politicians evade scandals, or how headlines influence public perception? This delightfully illustrated book explores the subtle ways language can be used to manipulate thought.
Guided by Old Mr. Rabbit, you'll delve into real-world examples where rhetoric shifts blame, erases responsibility, and distorts the truth. Whether it's describing a crowd of 250,000 as "tens of thousands" or framing a story to obscure who’s at fault, the book reveals how language can be used to mislead. Learning to detect' spin' is essential in an era where truth is increasingly at risk.
Constance is a wild, stubborn young girl growing up poor in a small industrial town in the late 1800's. Beneath her thread-worn exterior beats the heart of a dreamer and a wordsmith. But at age twelve, she’s orphaned. Running away to join the circus—like kids do in adventure books—seems like such a brilliant idea…or is it?
"Flight to Brassbright appeals to my inner child's desire for adventure and independence as well as my (mostly) grown-up desire for really well-written stories that capture my imagination and hold my attention." - Tricia, Amazon Reviewer
"...well plotted with a likable protagonist...upbeat with…
Constance is a wild, stubborn young girl growing up poor in a small industrial town in the late 1800's. Beneath her thread-worn exterior beats the heart of a dreamer and a wordsmith. But at age twelve, she’s orphaned. Running away to join the circus—like kids do in adventure books—seems like such a brilliant idea… or is it?
