Blog Posts by Gretchen Rubin

Over the weekend, I was trying to remember something I'd read in Tyler Cowen's book, Discover Your Inner Economist: Using Incentives to Fall in Love, Survive Your Next Meeting, and Motivate Your Dentist.

And I looked it up-so interesting!

Sometimes when we ask a question, we know that people might be reluctant to give a true opinion. Maybe they're worried about angering someone else, or appearing unsophisticated, or admitting what they actually think or do.

Tyler Cowen made an observation that I think is absolutely fascinating, and one that provides a possible solution to this non-disclosure problem. He writes:

We all want to get along well with other people, and one way to do this is to help people feel good about themselves. If you make a person feel smart and insightful, that person will enjoy your company. The point is not to be manipulative, but to help other people feel good about their contributions to a conversation.

Here are some suggestions…

1. Take notes. I'm a compulsive note-taker, and I used to feel self-conscious about pulling out my little notebook and taking notes during a casual conversation. Then I noticed that people really seemed to enjoy it; the fact that I was taking notes made their remarks seem particularly insightful or valuable. Now I don't hold myself back.

2. Refer to a comment that the person made earlier in the conversation. "This ties to your earlier point about…" This reference shows a person that you're tracking and remembering their comments very closely. And give people credit for their ideas! The terrific Ramit Sethi gave me the idea for

My recent post, Beware of "decoy habits," spurred a lot of conversation, and it's clear to me that the subject is much more complex, and interesting, than I initially realized.

Readers made many thought-provoking comments. One reader pointed to research that suggests that talking about a goal can lead to the false feeling of already having achieved that goal. I've seen that research-and I've also seen research suggesting that talking about a goal can help you stick to that goal, by making you feel more committed, and also more accountable to the people you've told. So it seems to go both ways.

From my own experience-a statistically insignificant yet often helpful data point-this is a point on which people differ. Some do better if they don't talk it up too much; some do better if they tell others what they want to do.

Exhibit A is my former roommate, who told people that she did yoga, and telling them seemed to convince her that she did, in fact, do yoga. Perhaps

A thoughtful reader pointed out a wonderful list written by French author Daniel Pennac, in The Rights of the Reader.

As someone who loves to read-practically to the exclusion of everything else-I love this list.

The 10 Inalienable Rights of the Reader
1. The right not to read
2. The right to skip
3. The right not to finish a book
4. The right to re-read
5. The right to read anything
6. The right to "Bovary-ism," a textually transmitted disease (the right to mistake a book for real life)
7. The right to read anywhere
8. The right to dip in
9. The right to read out loud
10. The right to be silent

If you'd like to see the list as illustrated by Quentin Blake, look here.

I recently posted about my new determination "not to finish a book," and I fully support #3. I love to re-read, so I was happy to see #4. My younger daughter is a big supporter of #9. My husband practices #8.

What do you think of the list? Anything

One of the most important elements of my identity is my identity as a reader. I love to read-really, if I'm honest with myself, it's practically the only activity that I truly love to do.

As part of that identity, I'd developed the habit of finishing every book I read. Once I started, I felt committed. A "real" reader like me finishes books and also gives authors the benefit of the doubt ("maybe this book will get better after the first 50 pages"). Right?

But I realized that I was spending a fair amount of my precious reading time reading books that didn't really interest me. I'd finish these just because I felt as though I "should" and for the bragging rights of being able to say that I'd read them.

I decided to set myself a new habit: Stop reading a book if I don't enjoy it. (I consider getting valuable information from a book as a form of "enjoyment," even if I don't particularly enjoy the experience of reading it.)

I've put down several books over the last few

Happiness interview: Heidi Grant Halvorson.

For a long time, I've been fascinated by Heidi Grant Halvorson's work: she studies the science of motivation.

She has a new book out: Focus: Use Different Ways of Seeing the World for Success and Influence. It's about how to understand yourself and others better, so you can use that information to motivate yourself and the people around you. It's grounded in science, and very practical as well.

Motivation is an issue that comes up frequently when you're trying to make your life happier. How do you stick to the resolutions that you've decided to make? I was very curious to hear how Heidi would answer these questions about happiness.

Gretchen: What's a simple activity that consistently makes you happier?

Heidi: I like to take little breaks throughout the day to find something to laugh about - fortunately, the internet has made this very easy for me to do. I'll be in the middle of writing and begin to feel tired or

I spend a lot of time thinking about questions such as, "How do we change?" "Why is it so hard to make ourselves do things that we want to do?" ( for instance, why is it so hard to make myself go to bed?) and "How can we stick to our resolutions?"

I realize now that a big challenge is clarity. Often, if there's something that I want to do, but somehow can't get myself to do, it's because I don't have clarity. This lack of clarity often arises from a feeling of ambivalence-I want to do something, but I don't want to do it; or I want one thing, but I also want something else that conflicts with it.

Here's a conflict: It's nice when my older daughter is around while she does her homework; on the other hand, it's good for her to be in her room without the distractions of family noise. So do I nudge her to go to her room, or do I let her stay in the kitchen? I can never decide.

These days, when I'm trying to get myself to pursue some course of action, I work hard to make sure

Recently, I had a very strong yet puzzling emotional experience, and I realized that I've felt before. I wish there were some wonderful term for this (perhaps there is, in German or Japanese).

I was reading a description of someone, and it said, "He lives with his wife and children on the Upper East Side of Manhattan." As I read this line, I had a fleeting yet complete vision of what that life would be like-the life of a person living with his family on the Upper East Side.

But in the next moment, I realized, "Wait, that's my life, I live in that neighborhood myself, with my family!" Yet the reality of my experience doesn't at all match my vision of what that "life" would be like. And oddly, my imaginary version seems richer and more real, in a way, than my actual experience.

I realized I can provoke this feeling, just by putting my own experience into words. If I think, "She went to an all-girl school in the Midwest," I have an idea of what that was like-but I did go to