Welcome to Larry Andrews' website.

Greetings and welcome to my blog spot.

I've written two novels since my retirement in 2008. The first is a romance, Songs of Sadness, Songs of Love. The second is an action/mysteryThe China-Africa Parallax: A Ryan and Gillian Mystery.

Among the textbooks I have written areLinguistics for L2 Teachers, Mahwah, NJ, Lawrence Earlbaum Associates, 2001; and Language Exploration and Awareness: A Resource Book for Teachers, 3rd edition, Mahwah, NJ, Lawrence Earlbaum Associates, 2006. This textbook was translated into Korean by Pagijong Press, Seoul, South Korea. 2010.

I am presently writing my third Ryan and Gillian novel, The Nathan Culper Brotherhood. You can follow my progress on novel #3 here at this blog site.

To order any of my titles please go either to nook.com or amazon.com (Kindle users can go to the Kindle Store.).

Sunday, May 26, 2013

A Story of Self

Here is a remarkable piece by Marshall Ganz. Both readers ad writers can learn from it.

               A Story of Self, A Story of Us

By Marshall Ganz, Professor
Harvard Kennedy School of Government

Public narrative is central to movement building, organizing and advocacy. It’s an articulation of the challenge, of the sources of hope, and of a pathway to action required to realize that hope; a response to those three questions posed by first century Jerusalem scholar, Rabbi Hillel:

1.  If I am not of myself, who will be for me?
2. If I am for myself alone, what am I?
3. If not now, when?

 A story of self, a story of us, and a story of now.

The core of a story is a plot, a moment of choice in which a protagonist is confronted by a challenge for which he or she is not prepared, but which he or she must nevertheless face, the outcome of which we take away as the “moral.” Why do we pay attention? Because it is in plot moments that we most fully experience the gift of agency as human beings – moments of real anxiety, to be sure, but also of exhilaration — when our choices matter most, but we are least prepared to make them. And because we identify empathetically with the protagonist, we not only “understand” the dilemma with our heads, but we experience a in our hearts. This is why our families, faith traditions, cultural traditions, organizations, movements and communities all teach through story.

Narrative is how we learn to make choices, how we learn to access the moral resources (hope, empathy, self worth) to respond mindfully and courageously to urgent challenges. As St. Augustine observed, it is one thing to “know” the good, but another to “love” it – and loving it calls forth action. Because values are emotional in content, they are sources not only of information about what we “ought” to do, but also of the motivation to do it. I say values, not interests, because while self-interest is sufficient to sustain the status quo, our values are sources of the courage to take the risks, make the commitments, and reach out to others that challenging the status quo requires.

By learning to tell a story of my calling — not my “career,” but my “calling” — I can communicate my values to others. By attending to the stories of others, and those we share with them, I can communicate values we share — a story of us. And by telling stories of the challenge to those values, the hope we can respond, and a path to action, we can inspire others to join us in action. Hope, however, is not the same as optimism. As Maimonides said, hope is belief in the plausibility of the possible, as opposed to the necessity of the probable. A realist recognizes that early in 2007 it was highly improbable a black man could be elected president, but it happened.

Marshall Ganz is a senior lecturer in public policy at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. As an organizer and strategist, he worked with the United Farm Workers for sixteen years, and played a pivotal role organizing students and volunteers for Barack Obama’s historic 2008 presidential campaign.

Friday, May 24, 2013

A Dozen Ways to Kill Ideas

With a tip of the hat to Brandon Cox


Ever watched a really good idea crash and burn? Me too.
Here’s some brutal honesty: Entire movements have gone down in flames because of boneheaded approaches to good ideas. This isn’t to say we can’t afford to make mistakes. In fact, the only way to know we’re taking risks is to make mistakes. We can’t afford not to make them. But we also can’t afford to ignore timeless principles of leadership effectiveness.
In honor of our most fatal leadership mistakes, here are a dozen ways to kill great ideas. (Warning: sarcasm ahead)
1. Form a committee. In this way, you’ll be able to devote more time to keeping minutes and electing officers and less time to solving problems. Also, we’ll be able to prevent a single great leader from running with the idea without feeling the need to check with several people with different opinions before proceeding.
2. Be sure to control it. Before you even start executing a good idea, be sure to write plenty of rules and parameters so that no one feels the freedom to run too fast with it. Freedom is the enemy when we’re trying to kill good ideas.
3. Devote a lot of time to calculating the costs. Be sure that everyone understands just how much failing can cost us so that we inch along, paralyzed by fear.
4. Assume it’s everyone’s responsibility. If we’re able to say, “Our school/organization/church/club/office should really be doing this,” it takes the pressure off anyone in particular who might actually take ownership. In this way, no one gets blamed for the death of the idea ... at least not individually.
5. Assume it’s your responsibility alone. If we get help, we’ll just saddle people with the burden of investing their time into meaningful pursuits rather than having more free time to not develop their gifts for leadership and influence.
6. Vote on it. This will give everyone a sense of power and let them decide that they’re “against” the idea even if it isn’t something they understand. After all, majorities of people are usually smart, right? Besides, in the end, it’s really about keeping as many people as possible happy.
7. Avoid learning from others who have acted on similar ideas. Never ask people who have succeeded or failed before. It’s better to re-invent the wheel, take full credit (or blame) in the end and brag on how much we’ve been able to do (or not do) all on our own.
8. Keep young people out of it. They’re all too inexperienced and unwise to lead anything. Besides, do the voices of the young really matter? I thought they were meant to be seen and not heard ... or valued.
9. Keep old ... advanced ... experienced people out of it. After all, they’re just all grumpy, afraid of change and set in their old-fashioned ways. Their years of wisdom and experience will just complicate matters.
10. Keep women out of it. In all honesty, even in sarcasm, I’m too afraid to touch this one. I can just testify it’s boneheaded. 
11. Take a little more time to talk about your intentions for the good idea. As long as you’re intending to do something good, it’s as good as doing it, except that it never gets done. But you will have meant well when it’s all said and not done.
I’m guilty of at least a majority of these at one time or another in my own leadership, so I’m not writing out of arrogance but in confession.
 12. (Put one you know here.)

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Working titles, not used

Which do you like better? The original title, or the classic title?
George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four was originally titled The Last Man in Europe.
Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita was originally titled The Kingdom by the Sea.
George Orwell's Animal Farm was going to be Animal Farm: A Fairy Story, A Satire, or A Contemporary Satire.
Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises was originally titled Fiesta.
W. Somerset Maugham's Of Human Bondage was originally titled Beauty from Ashes.
Edith Wharton's The House of Mirthwas originally titled The Year of the Rose.
Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace was originally titled All's Well That Ends Well.
Don DeLillo's White Noise was originally titled Panasonic.
Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind was going to be Tomorrow Is Another Day, Not In Our Stars, Tote the Weary Load, or Bugles Sang True.
F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby was going to be Gatsby, Among Ash-Heaps and Millionaires, Trimalchio, Trimalchio in West Egg, On the Road to West Egg, Under the Red, White and Blue, Gold-Hatted Gatsby or The High-Bouncing Lover.
Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead was originally titled Second-Hand Lives.
Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird was originally titled simply Atticus.
JRR Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings series was originally titled The War of the Ring.
Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited was originally titled The House of Faith.
Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front was originally translatedNothing New in the West (a direct translation of the German).
Carson McCullers's The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter was originally titled The Mute.
John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men was originally titled Something That Happened.
Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice was originally titled First Impressions.
Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was originally titled simply Alice.
William Faulkner's Light in August was originally titled Dark House.
Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden was originally titled Mistress Mary.
James Joyce's Dubliners was originally titled Ulysses in Dublin.
Philip Roth's Portnoy's Complaint was originally going to be The Jewboy, Wacking Off, or A Jewish Patient Begins His Analysis.
William Golding's Lord of the Flies was originally titled Strangers From Within.

Sunday, May 12, 2013




A name may be arbitrary
But once given it's very
Specific. Ruth is always Ruth
And by personal linguistic truth
Ruth looks and acts like a Ruth.

Onomastics or toponymy tell
The names of Mayflower fares as well:
Love Brewster and Humility Cooper
Helped ease the way for a colonist suitor
To marry a Virtue, not just any souter. 

Constance, Desire and Remember;
Each woman a charter member
At Plymouth colony. A common trope,
Those Virtue eponyms that cope.
A pilgrim can persevere with Hope.