Father’s Day Deluge

Happy father’s day!

I hope that you are finding a way to celebrate that suits you dad’s needs, whether it be a big affair at a fancy restaurant, a small brunch or just sitting around with friends and family remembering times long past.

This blog post will be a little different, just like this past week. There has been a lot of family stuff that has required my attention, so I have not been online as much as usual. But, a number of things have caught my eye this week, which I want to share and discuss with you.

The first is a recent publication of mine on Scientific American celebrating, what else, but the good (and a few bad) animal dads. After all, in the animal kingdom, many father’s do not do very much. In fact, they just inseminate the mother and wander off. But, in this article, the lovely Lauren Reid and I decided to showcase some truly magnificent examples of animal fathers picking up the slack and really showing off!

You can read the article here.

The next little bit I want to share with you is a blog post I stumbled upon last week, that was extremely well done. It was written by a fellow science writer, DeLene Beeland, who writes a great blog entitled Wild Muse who writes about evolution and ecology.

A recent post of hers was called Advice on Science Writing, and was extremely well done.

I get asked why I chose this field quite a bit, and my answers have slowly shifted from when I decided that was what I was going to do to actually doing it now. And it can be difficult to explain why you like doing something so much without sounding completely insane, as we all tend to do when we are passionate about what we do. In this post, DeLene perfectly encapsulates the difficulties of being a science journalist, but also the thrill.

Here are a few tidbits:

“It’s selfish, but writing about science allows me to learn with each and every story I work on, and that aspect is the fuel that keeps me running. It also gives me a small mouthpiece to communicate about issues I feel the general public ought to know more about: ecology, biological diversity and the affect of human development upon wildlife and natural systems.”

“The language of science is not always easily translated for lay audiences. And the more highly trained you are, the harder it may be for you to be cognizant of that gap. There are some rock stars that can straddle both worlds and the languages codified by each, but for the rest of us mortals, we need to study the language of popular media, the way stories are constructed and told, and how ideas are imparted in persuasive essays and objective news stories. There are patterns, hierarchies and formulas that work well, and it’s time well spent to analyze them, learn them, and harness them for your own work. Your audience, and your editors, will thank you.”

If you want to understand science writing and those that do it, do give the article a read. It’s extremely well-done, and doesn’t pull any punches with regards to the difficulty of the industry.

Finally, about a week ago, my dad pointed out an article to me on from The Toronto Star about an issue that I’ve spent a lot of time doing research and writing about: Invasive species.

Invasive species are animal that have been brought into a completely foreign habitat and thrived to a point of harming the local flora and fauna, and even causing extinction of native species. Examples are goats on the Galapagos islands, zebra mussels in the Great Lakes and the Nile Perch in Africa.

In Canada, there is a new threat: The Emerald Ash Borer or EAB.

Ugly little guy, isn’t he?

The insect traveled to the northern United States in the late 1990s from Asia, and completely decimated the ash tree population there back in 2002. And since then, the insects have been spreading into over 15 states and all over Southern Ontario.

The insect is a master at what it does, and that is killing ash trees. The larvae burrow into the tree and make their way in a serpentine pattern, cutting off supplies of the trees nutrients and killing it. It is akin to being slowly starved to death.

But this is old news, as the insect was found in Toronto as early as 2007 (far from its predicted arrival in 2022). What is new is what is going to be done about protecting the almost 900,000 ash trees in the Toronto area. The answer?

Nothing.

The city is not taking an preventative action, and instead focusing on replacing every tree with other species instead of battling the insect and letting up to 95 per cent of all the ash trees in Toronto die. Sadly, not much can be done for a tree once it is infected, and must be destroyed to prevent further spread.

There are preventative measures that can be taken, such as injecting a tree with the drug, TreeAzin, a biological pesticide. But Brian Hamilton, the Emerald Ash Borer Program Specialist for the Canadian Food Inspection Agency (CFIA), says that TreeAzin cannot save an already infected tree.

“Once injected, the chemical kills the larva under the bark and is absorbed into the leaves. And the double whammy is that, if an adult female EAB eats the leaves, she becomes sterile and cannot produce any offspring.”

While TreeAzin is a good solution for uninfected trees, it is extremely expensive to administer, and any time money is involved (and we’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars), the purse-strings tighten. A few other control methods are being explored in the United States, such as utilizing stingless wasps from Chinese forests as a natural predator of the EAB. However, this is just another example of introducing other (potentially less harmful) species to eliminate others in a foreign environment.

But is doing nothing, like Toronto is, the best option?

I should hope not.

What Lurks In The Deep?

The world is such a fascinating place, and yet there is so much that we do not yet know, especially regarding the deepest depths of the ocean and the creatures that lie within it. Due to the limitations of our bodies, it is extremely difficult to explore that world, but by studying animals that make the daily trek from the depths to the shallows, we can begin to create a picture of life in the deep.

Some of these very creatures are from the molluscan class of animals known as cephalopods (squid, octopuses and cuttlefish). Personally, nothing quite draws me in like a cephalopod, which is why I was excited to read the book Kraken: The Curious, Exciting, And Slightly Disturbing Science of Squid by Wendy Williams.

The book was a magnificent read, and I learned a lot about cephalopods, such as that some squid species will rip off one of their own arms to escape a predator, exactly how cephalopods have greatly impacted human medical care, and how the incredible camouflage mechanism of the cuttlefish works.

Thanks to the website Deep Sea News, you can read my review of Williams’ book here.

If you are at all interested in this highly unique class of animals, please give the review a read and be sure to pick up this book!

Of all the animals I have seen in my life, there is something in the eyes of a cephalopod that make you think that as you are staring at them, they they are staring back at you just as intensely.

P.S. For all of you English majors/teachers/experts who are scoffing at my use of “octopuses” instead of “octopi,”I have news for you: they are both right!

Don’t believe me? Watch this video!

Perfection Isn’t Perfect

We may make jokes that we are the perfect versions of ourselves, but realistically, who can say that? I’m a good person and friend, and yet mistakes are inevitable. Mistakes are how we learn and grow into better people.

You may know not to touch the red-hot coils on an electric stove, and have been told not to repeatedly by your parents, siblings and friends. But, you may not remember the lessons until you accidentally do just that. The pain is what you will remember, not the warnings. And even then, you will still use that stove, and the moment you forget that painful lesson, you get burned.

After all, everyone needs a reminder now and then, even those we place on a pedestal, even superheroes that are considered the best of the best. Of course, I am talking about Steve Rogers, who is also known as Captain America.

For those unfamiliar with the comic book lore, Steve Rogers was a young man who wanted nothing more than to be in the army during World War II. But, he was too small for his age, weak and sickly looking. The army disregarded him, despite his pleas.

That was, until he got the opportunity to enroll in a program entitled Operation: Rebirth, designed to help soldiers reach peak physical perfection. He was the first candidate to receive the treatment under the supervision of Professor Abraham Erksine, and the last, as Nazis killed Erksine and destroyed all his research shortly after Rogers received the treatment.

But, the “Super Soldier Serum” had already worked its magic on young Rogers. He became taller, possessed enhanced musculature and reflexes, and became the symbol for the war effort. He became Captain America.

Captain America, or “Cap,” rapidly became known throughout the world as an amazing hero and patriot. His iconic costume was based on his own design, modeled after the American flag, and his trademark shield was made of an indestructible alloy that he can toss like a Frisbee. He fought his nemesis the Red Skull numerous times, as well as other villains, including an infamous cover of him punching Hitler in the jaw.

But, throughout all of that, one thing stayed the same in the Marvel comic universe. Even when surrounded by other superheroes with fantastic skills and abilities, the writers kept Rogers a man. He was an extraordinary man with skills superior to that of any Olympic athlete, of course, but still a mortal man with limits.

But what is perfection?

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines it as the quality or state of being perfect or an exemplification of supreme excellence. But what is excellence?

To me, the key thing to note is that, like beauty, perfection is in the eye of the beholder. The attributes you ascribe to your “perfect” self are different than mine, which are different than those of the Emperor of Japan.

Just remember that nobody is perfect, and if someone says they are, they are lying. In fact, if anyone calls you “less than perfect,” take it as a compliment. If everyone was perfect, there would be nothing to strive for!

The upcoming Marvel film appears to address that head-on, by painting Rogers (played by Chris Evans) as a man with something to prove, not just to himself, but everyone around him. The trailer, embedded below, has a very poignant quote said by Dr. Erksine on why Rogers was chosen for the program: “Because a weak man knows the value of strength.”

The Ups and Downs of Physics

It has been an interesting week!

On May 2nd, I went to the university where I did my undergraduate degree, and held a workshop on science communication (as I mentioned in my last post). I also had a new post pop up on Scientific American entitled “A True Duck Hunt – Interview with Donovan Hohn,” and I was going to write about both of them, until I went to a popular amusement park on May 7th and experienced something that had never happened to me before.

But for you to understand it, I’ll have to back up a little.

Approximately seven or eight years ago, I worked at that exact amusement park for two spring/summer’s in the merchandise section. I had been to that park many times throughout my life, and had long enjoyed the samplings of roller coasters and other rides that were present. I hadn’t been scared of a roller coaster for a long time, not since I was a child, and believed that it would be fun to work there.

As all employees did, I started out as a cashier in a store, and rapidly got promoted to cash lead within that first year and really enjoyed the job! The second year, I was promoted to a manager, but I did not have as good a time, and stopped after that summer. But, due to a variety of situations, I hadn’t been back since.

So, I was looking forward to heading back and seeing what had changed and go on the new rides that had popped up the last number of years. And, it was a blast! Had a great time with the friends I went with, and went on tons of rides.

But then, at around 3:30pm, we went on a wooden roller coaster and just as we were about to go down the first hill … it stopped. We just sat there in the car, at around a 45-50 degree angle; all the while a voice kept stating over the loud speaker that there was a “delay” and a “technical issue.”

Where my friends and I were stuck, right near the very top of the first hill.

 Really makes you wonder about the faith you put in the hands of the engineers and ride operators, doesn’t it?

During this stop, I spoke with my friends about what it means, how long we were going to spend up there, and then the ride started again (total elapsed time was only about 5 minutes).

Now, I do not know if I was more conscious of the ride, but it was much bumpier than usual, even leading into the flat stretch leading to the platform. That was, until it stopped AGAIN.

This time, after three minutes, the ride attendants manually released our harnesses and had us venture along a rickety wooden walkway to the platform. I spoke to the manager there, and our compensation was a “front of the line” treatment of any coaster of our choice. After a brief discussion with my friends, we decided on the one close-by.

As we made our way up to the next ride, we were told that we would be seated at the very back on the next car. But, to our surprise, THAT ride broke as well. So, the manager told us we were now able to receive two “front of the line” treatments, but not before my friend asked if we could get a free ice cream sandwich in lieu of that. I proposed cash, but he rejected both.

We then made our way to the first of our new set of coasters, and were understandably nervous. After all, two rides had broken, and we were not feeling confident on the third time being the charm.

But, to all our surprise, the ride went off without a hitch. The ride was thrilling and totally alleviated any and all stress we might have had regarding the safety and maintenance of roller coasters at an amusement park.

The second of the “front of the line” coasters was one of the busiest in the park, and we had visited it much earlier in the day. This time, sitting in the back, we all strapped in and made jokes until the ride started up the first hill.

You could tell that all of us were thinking he exact same thing: Please don’t break! And it didn’t.

But what did happen was just as interesting.

As we went up the first hill, the drop following was a nail-biting 75 degrees and the cars quickly accelerated to approximately 125 km/hour (or 77 mph) for over 3 minutes, according to the ride’s website. Quite a ride!

Watch out for that first step …. it’s a DOOZY

 The first time I had gone on it earlier that day, it was an exciting ride. But this time, seated at the very back, it was much more intense. For a brief moment, as I came out of the first drop, black spots appeared in my vision from the intense G forces.

It was a thrilling and adrenaline-pumping ride, which afterward left my friends and I utterly exhausted. It was just that draining.

But, it got me thinking about the physics of it all.

When the car is pulled up the hill on the track, it slowly builds up potential energy (stored energy) that will be converted to kinetic energy (motion) once it falls [see point W on the picture below]. Therefore, when the car reaches the top of the hill and begins its descent, all that stored energy is converted into the energy of motion, helped along by our old friend gravity [point X].

A roller coaster at the top of the hill (W) has an abundance of potential energy, but no kinetic. But, after the first drop at point X, all the stored (potential) energy is converted into the energy of motion (kinetic). Approaching point Y, potential energy is regained as kinetic is lost, which then is switched at point Z.

Basically, each loss in height corresponds to a gain of speed (potential to kinetic), and each gain in height corresponds to a lack of speed (kinetic to potential).

As you begin to fall, that momentary sensation where you are lifted out of your seat is known as negative G forces (or negative Earth’s gravity), where you experience the sensation of feeling like you weigh less than usual. In contrast, when you come out of the dive and go up the next hill, you experience positive G forces (or increased Earth’s gravity) and feel you weigh more than normal.

The best way to think about it, at least for me, is by using the example of NASA”s infamous “Vomit Comet,” which trains astronauts how to handle zero G situations, such as being in space.

What they do is fly in a series of parabolic arcs, similar to those that a roller coaster experiences. The only difference is that it is much, much faster, and so the G forces you feel are more pronounced and sustained.

But, for every yin there is a yang, and when the plane goes up, you experience the proportional positive G’s.

For example, if you weigh 150 pounds, and go up on the vomit comet, on a stable and level flight, you would weigh 1G (or Earth’s gravity), or 150 pounds.
When you begin to go up the arc, you will experience 2G (or double the Earth’s gravity) and it will feel like you weigh 300 pounds.
But, when you approach the top of the arc and begin to go down, you will experience 0G (known as weightlessness) and will weigh 0 pounds.
And then the whole process begins again.

Provided by: SpaceTravellers

 There are other forces acting upon you during a roller coaster ride as well, such as centripetal and centrifugal forces, which help you stay in your seat instead of falling out during a loop-de-loop.

Centrifugal forces are pushing you to the outside of the loop (this is what you feel when you go around a sharp turn and your body is thrust away from the direction of the turn), while centripetal forces are balancing those outward forces and keeping you in your seat throughout the loop … even if your stomach may be left on the starting platform.

In fact, most rides that have loops would be safe without restraining devices, based on the physics alone. Luckily for us, there are laws against that, so engineers and designers of coasters need to have them equipped on all rides to keep everyone safe in the event that something does go wrong.

So, the next time you are screaming your lungs out as you plummet to the Earth on a steel or wooden track, give a quick shout out to physics for making it all possible.

I would like to thank the lovely and talented Summer Ash, an astrophysicist (who can be found here on Twitter). She was invaluable in helping me remember my Grade 12 physics, and made sure the science and explanations made perfect sense.

Preparing For The Presentation

Back when I used to perform in plays (musicals mostly), I would always feel the nervous butterfly sensation I am feeling now. It is not unpleasant, but still rather irksome and unsettling.

I didn’t matter if I had one line to say, or a whole song to sing, the nerves were always there. It wasn’t about not knowing my lines or the choreography, as I had memorized them both weeks before, but more the stress of not being what the audience expected.

The same is true when you are giving a public talk.

Thanks to my acting experience, I had a lot of exposure to talking, singing and just making a fool of myself in front of a large group. That came in handy back in Grade Six, when I won a public speaking contest at school, and the prize was presenting it to the whole school at an assembly. The topic, of course, was the life and times of Albert Einstein.

I’ve come a long way since then, but the nerves are always there. Whether it is waiting for the curtain to rise in my elementary school gym or walking into a lecture hall to give a talk, you are always nervous.

And that is what I am doing on Monday May 2nd.

I am heading on out to the university where I spent my undergraduate education, and speaking to a room of graduate students and professors on the basics (and how to improve) science communication. If anyone would like the details, please email me, and I will send you all the details.

I would now like to thank each and every person who helped me put this presentation together:

My family and friends for all their support and feedback
Tanya Noel for her boundless support and enthusiasm
Nancy Parmalee for her watchful eye
Carin Bondar for her amazing friendship and attitude
Elisa Tersigni for helping me flush out the idea

And everyone who I spoke to for help and advice, as well as those individuals who were happy to take the time out of their busy day and give their advice. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the following people (all of whom I’ve met through social media):

The infectiously awesome Maryn McKenna
The hilariously scientific Brian Malow
The “yes it is really him and he actually knows who I am,” the amazing Carl Zimmer
The intelligent beauty that is Joanne Monaster
The queen on multi-tasking Arikia Millikan
The Tennille to my Captain, Nancy Parmalee
The incredibly amazing Carin Bondar
And lastly, THE Ed Yong.

And as a little treat to those who have read this long, and suffered through my thank you’s, here is the title card of my presentation (which I designed myself).

Looking Back

Sorry for the lack of blogs popping up here recently, but I have not forgotten. I’ve been very busy the past few weeks with stuff popping up that needed to be done rather quickly, as well as being sick twice!

For those of you that missed it last week, I had a new Scientific American Guest Blog post entitled, “Regeneration: The axolotl story,” on the unique amphibian known as the axolotl. It is a fascinating animal, and I hope that you all will give it a read. It was a lot of fun to write!

Other than that, I’ve been working on a number of things recently that should be popping up in various online publications and in print soon, as well as working on a seminar and workshop I’m planning at a university to increase communication between scientists and the media. Suffice to say, it should be an exciting few weeks.

But, that is not what I want to talk about.

A year ago today (April 22, 2010), I finally arrived home after completing my Masters of Journalism degree at a university in Ottawa. The month of April was primarily spent working on my Masters Research Project or MRP on the status of the endangered black-footed ferret. I had officially handed it in a day earlier, packed a large duffel bag and left the city until graduation.

It’s been one hell of an interesting year!

I’ve loved and lost, made countless friends over Twitter (and I do consider them friends), and lost other friends for a variety of reasons (some sensible, some not). I applied to jobs by the bucket load, but initially made little headway. I did a few freelancing pieces here and there, before I got a job writing press releases for a science journal in the United States, where I learned a lot.

I expanded my online presence by being one of the first bloggers to join up with LabSpaces, which I still love to do. When my position at the journal ended, I received other freelance job offers through Twitter, some of which I accepted, others not.

And then, in the New Year, I wrote my first post for Scientific American about my experience in South Dakota pursuing the black-footed ferret for MRP. There was such a good response to that piece, that I have since written other posts for them about ugly animals that deserve love on Valentine’s Day, the biology of snake venom, what it is like growing up as a twin, and more!

Many things have changed in the past year, and I had plenty of ups and downs along the way. It is not easy breaking into the journalism industry, especially as a science journalist. It has been tough at times, but I want to say thank you to all my friends in real life, my family and my Twitter friends. You all have been so supportive of me, and of that I am most thankful.

Hopefully, some day soon, I can pay you all back in kind.

It’s Elementary, Watson!

What a week it has been!

So much has been going on that I hardly even know where to start!

Earlier this week, my next Guest Blog for Scientific American went live, which focused on how twins (both identical and fraternal) forge their own identities. Being an identical twin myself, it was a very interesting article to write, as it took hard work to separate myself from my brother and become an individual.

The post is entitled “Mirror Image: Twins and Identity” and I’ve been getting a big response to it. Special thanks go out to my parents, my brother, Amy and Jaclyn Jacobs and Elise Milbrant for helping me with this project.

Also, the great Epic Writing Adventure came to a close this week, as the month went up. Because of an unexpected increase in my work load, I was not able to finish what I set out to do (finishing the novel). However, it got me writing and I am well over 15,000 words into my novel. It is good to know that whenever things die down, I have this little side-project to work on.

Rest assured, it will NOT be forgotten!

And lastly, a new episode of The Definitive Answers is now live! This installment focuses on three questions asked by some elementary school students in New York City.

Remember to email science questions to: askdavidquestions@gmail.com

And, for those eagle-eyed viewers out there who saw my shirt in the above video, I ask you this: “What do Androids dream of?”

The answer (for those who don’t know), is “Electric Sheep.”

Thank you, and enjoy!

NOTE:

I made a mistake while listing the weight of the African Elephant. I said that they weigh “220 pounds,” which is, of course, ridiculous. Football players weight more than that!
That number was how much a baby African Elephant weighs at BIRTH, but male bull elephants can grow to upwards of 10,000 pounds!!!

I am sorry for the confusion.

The Definitive Answers – Part Deux

Sorry for the delay in reaching the next part of The Definitive Answers, but its been a crazy few weeks filled with family stuff, sporadic Internet connectivity, participating in The Epic Writing Adventure and other stuff I don’t even want to go into.

But, I have not forgotten!

I’ve continued to get emails with questions from people, so I decided to make a YouTube video that answers three interesting questions posed to me recently.

In this video, I answer three animal-related questions from Lucy in Edmonton, Jenny in Chicago and Matthew from Alberta.

Remember: Submit your questions to askdavidquestions@gmail.com, and I’ll answer them in the upcoming editions of The Definitive Answers.

Enjoy!

UPDATE: Please note that when I mention the nictating membrane, I was actually referring to the structure known as the tapetum lucidum. I had gotten my notes mixed up with research on sharks that I was making earlier in the day. Thank you Neil for the correction!

The Art of Dissection

The smell in the air was pungent and nauseating during that day in grade 10, you could smell it throughout the school. Students were talking cheerfully, as they were clearly excited to begin today’s big project, despite the smell emanating from two large plastic buckets at the front of the class.

Looking at my lab partner, we exchanged hesitant glances before lining up to receive our experiment for the day on a large black pan. Looking around the room, some students looked enthusiastic about what was about to occur, while others looked pale and scared.

“Ok class,” said the science teacher. “Time to get started.”
Grabbing the sharpest of the implements on the lab bench, I brought the business end of the tool into the pan. Getting the nod from my partner, I used the scalpel and cut into the animal before me, beginning the classroom required earthworm dissection.

As “gross” as some people considered the dissection, I enjoyed it. I liked seeing what I had read in real life and finally make sense about the inter-connectivity of the biological systems. All the five dissections I did in high school (earthworm, locust, perch, cow eye and fetal pig), all presented different challenges and learning experiences to discover.

My favourite part of dissections was learning about an abstract idea from a lecture or the textbook, like that pigs have three bronchial tubes (one goes to the left lung, while two go to the bigger right lung), and actually observing it in front of you. Seeing a picture in a book is not the same as seeing it in the flesh (pardon the pun).

The best way to remember those observations, at least for me, was by drawing pictures of the lab animals. I knew some people in university who took pictures of the specimens with a digital camera, but that felt like cheating.

I don’t draw on a regular basis, but I occasionally doodle things of a scientific nature, such as beakers, chemical structures and viruses. But the most detailed pictures I ever drew in my life, those I spent a lot of time to make as good as my limited art skills would allow, were for university dissections.

Take, for example, the picture of a squid below that I drew in my second year of university in a class called “Animals.” It may not be the greatest quality or even that life-like, but I was happy with the result.

The pre-dissection squid (genus Loligo)

The post-dissection squid

These types of drawings, both in review and even now six years later, I can remember various aspects of the dissection. I remember my friend accidentally punctured the ink sac in her specimen, and how I was shocked to see how spotted with pigment the mantle of the squid was.

My drawings may not be colourful or even drawn very well, but you can tell I enjoyed doing the dissections. I enjoyed it because it was my experiment, my results, and my observations.

Now, there are individuals who are anti-dissection. The proponents of this say that dissections show disrespect for the life of an animal, desensitize students to animal cruelty and is a traumatic experience for those forced to do it. Meanwhile, there are others who say that dissections are the only way to understand some abstract concepts, that it provides hand-on experience that is vital to understanding anatomy, and it can act as a potential catalyst for students to become interested and enter science careers.

I tend to fall in the positive camp, but there is one anti-dissection statement that I’m on board with: that dissections should not be mandatory, but optional. And that alternative solution should be available to everyone, but emphasis should be placed on completing physical dissections, but the computer simulations should be available if wanted.

I only used a computerized dissection in lieu of the real thing once.

Back in grade 10, one of the animals we had to dissect was a fish, which was a problem. I have an allergy to fish and can suffer from anaphylaxis if I eat it, and the smell of fish makes me nauseated.

After bringing in a doctor’s note (required by my teacher), I was excused from the physical dissection and allowed to use the “new” virtual dissection program on the class computer. It was one of the most boring and un-educational experiences in my biology career. The interface was horrible, the animation and graphics looked terrible, and after pointing out an organ, it would disappear from the screen and never re-appear.

Suffice to say, I learned nothing.

For the end of year exam, we had questions based upon the animal specimens we dissected, and I knew nothing about the perch. My memory was blank, because the dissection did not hold my attention. In fact, I had to spend a lot of time reading and re-reading the textbook and notes to understand it. But, with the earthworm and locust, I remembered the dissections vividly because I experienced it and made notes based on my observations, not those of other people.

I was disappointed I did not get the chance to dissect a fish, but with my allergy, I understood the precautions. But, I was determined that the next time I had to dissect a fish, I would find a way to do it.

My next shot would not appear until the end of the Animals course.

That course took us through all major groups of animals, and each lab was devoted to a different type of phylum. As part of the course, we got to dissect and observe a lot of different animals, from nematodes to locusts, which all culminated in the massive two-day dissection of a dogfish shark.

The spiny dogfish shark (Genus Squalus)

Knowing this was coming, I spoke to my professor and we took all types of precautions: I had a change of clothes in case anything got on me, my Epi-Pen was nearby on the odd chance I had a reaction, and I wore less absorbent gloves. The precautions might sound a bit much, but the university, my professor and I did not want to take any chances. There were other options available to me, but I did not want to take it.

The experience with the dogfish shark was incredible, as we not only explored various organs, but also the circulatory system, eyes, reproductive organs and cranial nerves. The animal stunk to high heaven, and I had to excuse myself more than once to get away from the putrid smell, but it was a great experience.

In my life thus far, I have dissected countless animals, including a few rats, snakes, lizards, lots of insects (locusts, cockroaches, etc…), a sea urchin, some puffer fish and almost 100 frogs (a few Leopard frogs, but mostly Xenopus for my thesis).

Below, you will find a selection of some of the dissection drawings I did in the animal course. I am extremely proud of the crayfish and starfish ones, as my dissections and drawings were so good they were saved and used as demonstrations for other classes.

I spoke to a lot of my friends in real life and over Twitter about the dissection debate, and there was no consensus. But no one I talked to, even those who didn’t go into science, said they despised the dissection component of their school experience. In fact, everyone said they either enjoyed the experience, or at least found it interesting

However, the debate over dissections will never go away. There will always be students who do not wish to participate and those who do. But, at least for me, the combination of hands-on experience and drawing what you see (not what you wish to see) helped cement me on my scientific career.

I could not possibly put it better than noted doctor and author Abraham Verghese on the subject of dissections in schools, “The living studying the dead. The dead instructing the living.”

Note: The topic of art in dissections came to mind when I read a recent blog post by a friend of mine, Andrea Kuszewski. She discussed how to create scientific-based art, as well as how it can be used to enhance learning. Since I will not win any awards for my art skills, far from it in fact, it was fascinating to read about the amazing learning experiences that can come up from an illustration and brought to mind the idea for this post.

Also, you can click on any of the illustrations in this post to see a high-quality version of my drawings (if you want to see that kind of thing).

The noble crayfish (Genus Cambarus)

The scorpion (Genus Centruoides) and the garden spider (Genus Argiope)

One of my proudest dissections ever performed – the starfish (Genus Asterias)

Week One: The Adventure Continues!

Before I get to the update on my adventure into writing a novel, I had another article published in the Scientific American Guest Blog about so-called “ugly animals.”

In the spirit of February (the month of “love”), I decided to write a post dedicated to animals that may not be the cutest or most lovable, but still deserve some love … or at least respect. You can read the whole article, entitled “Ugly Animals Need Love, Too” by just clicking here.

Now, onto the main event – The Epic Writing Adventure continues (Week One)!

I decided against blogging my progress every day, as that could be rather boring, with instead doing a weekly catch-up post to tell you how I have been doing in this little adventure.

Last week, I picked up the 15 or more pages I had written on “The Black” about a year and a half ago, and read all five chapters (plus the prelude) and noticed something. There were a lot of consistent themes and errors throughout my rough draft.

But, equipped with a red pen for corrections and a blue for added content, I persevered. And there were some substantial changes that were made, especially in the first few chapters and prelude.

The greatest asset, that I have found, was an outline of the story I wrote almost two years ago on my computer at work during the summer of 2009. There I laid out all the main characters, the overall narrative structure of the plot, and even some dialogue I wanted for important scenes. If you learn anything from this, or are attempting the writing adventure on your own, an outline is a great thing to have (even if it is just a few points written down).

An outline helps you with flow, but most importantly, organization. The worst novels I have ever read were just scattered thoughts, like buck shot fired at a target. Just random thoughts thrown into a rough narrative structure.

You don’t want to end up with this – just a random assortment of plot points

I am at almost 7,000 words at the moment, and I am still going strong.

I have also decided to throw you, my faithful readers, a few tidbits of information about the novel. As I know you are all looking forward to reading it when it’s done!

First off, the main character’s name is Roger Wilks, and he is a lab technician at an experimental biotech company, testing various drugs on animals. He also recently broke up with his girlfriend, which shattered him to the very core. He needs something to grasp onto in his life, and so he dove into work. But that was not what he needed. He needs friends, a purpose and a mission.

Lastly, the themes of fate versus free will and the subject of destiny play a significant role in the novel, as (eventually) Roger is confronted with two branching paths: one that has been laid out before him, and one he must forge himself.

Which will he choose? Which would any of us choose?