Some years ago, when I was working as a newspaper science reporter in California, my editor assigned me to do a story on Nobel Prize-winning scientists at the University of California. Frankly, I hated the idea and thought it was little more than an extension of the university's own excellent public relations. But, in fact, after I spent several days visiting with Nobel laureates—researchers who had advanced the science of lasers, discovered new elements, deciphered the intricate chemistry by which living cells make and store energy—I changed my mind.

Spending time with these scientists made me appreciate that they were not super humans. They did not radiate genius as they moved across the room. They were just people—very smart people, true—with a strong sense of purpose and a great deal of curiosity about the world around them. And they had all achieved this moment—a flash of insight, a moment of pure clarity—that had enabled them to solve a problem and make a discovery that others had missed.

I came to think of genius not as life on a higher plane but as a kind of lightning strike, that instant when the night is brighter, the air sizzles and glows, and the surrounding territory is illuminated. So it was with real pleasure that I read Katherine Ramsland's wonderful book Snap! More than that, I recognized it. I'd been waiting for someone to really explore and explain my sense of aha! moments. And I'd been waiting for someone to do it well.

Candidly, I've been a fan of Katherine's work for a number of years now. I met her when I was working on The Poisoner's Handbook, which is about two pioneering forensic scientists working during the wild and dangerous days of Prohibition-era New York. My story focuses on poison killers—to me the coldest and most dangerous of all murderers because they are plotters and planners. Katherine's books on serial killers and other murderers helped me figure out how to describe and explain some of the genuinely deranged characters in my story.

When I received Snap! I thought, Of course! Of course someone who had so much insight into the human mind—who had worked as a therapist, who had a graduate degree in clinical psychology—would not only be able to explain the troubled mind but also to explore what's best and smartest about the way we think.

Most of us have encountered the idea of an aha! moment before. Many of us have heard the story of the great Greek mathematician Archimedes leaping out of his bath and shouting “Eureka!” as he realized the solution to a stubborn problem. And this book does credit to the history of such ideas, from the insights of the ancients to the sudden dazzle of recognition by James Watson and Francis Crick regarding the helical structure of DNA in the mid-twentieth century, and on to discoveries of our own century.

But what really makes these moments of brilliance so interesting—and so important—is that they aren't the exclusive property of the Nobel laureates I interviewed those years ago, nor do they occur only in the famous cases I just cited. They are, rather, an entirely human attribute—all of us, in fact, have these snap moments, and for every person they open up different possibilities.

All very encouraging, you might say. But Ramsland asks another question: Is it possible to improve this potential? What if we sharpen up our memory? What if we concentrate on staying in the moment, practice the art of mindfulness? Will we become more adept at recognizing those flashes of insight? And not only does she ask those questions; she researches the answers, sifts through the science, and offers some very practical ideas about how we might make this work.

And here's why I particularly like her approach in this case. You may very well reach the end of her story and think to yourself: Aha! I feel smarter than I did before I read this book!

Deborah Blum
Madison, Wisconsin