Blogging daily for NaBloPoMo is hard. When I write, I want to write something that is significant—significantly deep or touching or inspiring or humorous. Always reflective. Always a piece of myself. Always an exposé of what is in my heart or mind at the moment. But the moments of feeling, thinking, and reflecting that matter are hard to come by in the world of work and family. So today might be the day to settle for something less than significant.
When I was in graduate school, I had to read an excerpt from a book about “stickiness.” As I recall, it included a story about Halloween and why all the kids I grew up with knew that we had to either trick or treat only at friends’ houses—or take our bags of candy to the hospital to have it x-rayed to check for those razor blades most certainly inserted by perfect strangers. Why? Because we had heard stories about children killed by poisoned or sabotaged candy or apples, actually. But the truth was that the children who had died from Halloween treats had been killed by people they knew and loved. Strangers weren’t the problem; relatives were…
But the story stuck, and my parents insisted on inspecting my candy every Halloween (although now I suspect they were just taking out the pieces they wanted.)
The excerpt from the book Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die made me want to be sticky—in what I say, what I write, what I teach. By sticky, I mean significant enough to remember—and to like, to comment, to share. Brothers Chip and Dan Heath, the authors, used the acronym SUCCESS to explain their thoughts on what makes ideas sticky:
I’m going for simplicity today. (And maybe unexpectedness, since you obviously expected something more worthy to read…)
That’s all, folks! 🙂
P.S. If you’re wondering about the truth in the Halloween poisoning, check out this article (not from the sticky authors, but still good).