Amanda Ripley Author of The Unthinkable

There is an unexpected irony that comes with publishing a book. You spend years scouring the Earth for stories; then the book comes out, and the stories start coming to you.

All summer, people from all over the world have been sending me unforgettable stories of human behavior in near-death experiences. Some of these stories arrived in private email messages that I can’t share; others are embedded in the comments on this site; and many more are floating in the ether, in blogs, articles and on TV. Check out this TV News segment that aired last night, from an ABC affiliate in Phoenix, AZ. They did a nice job with the book, and they also found a classic story of delay and denial.

What I like most about Tom Vanderbilt’s new book, Traffic, is that it takes us on a tour of our most cherished delusions. We all think we are better drivers than we are (yes, even you); we estimate the odds of our next accident by reflecting on the number of crashes we’ve been in before (not the number of near misses we’ve had); and the safer we feel (in SUVs, say, or on straight roads on clear, dry days), the worse we drive, and the more accidents we have.

It reminds me a lot of how we respond to hurricanes. We overestimate the strength of our homes (even people in trailer homes are confident they can ride out the storm); we base our decisions about whether to evacuate before a hurricane on what happened the last time we were told to evacuate for a totally different storm; and when it comes to “natural” hazards like weather, we are lulled into complacency by the illusion of control (unlike in airplanes, where we worry a lot about risks that are so small they are effectively zero).

Here’s the thing: Nearly 40,000 Americans die every year in car crashes. And a disproportionate number of the dead are young--people who should have their lives stretched out in front of them. Then there are the tens of thousands of other young people who survive accidents, but are maimed for life. So I think of car crashes like one giant, atrocious disaster that happens every year. And, as in other disasters, what matters far more than anything else (but gets the least amount of attention and research funding) is human behavior--not technology or steel or anti-lock brakes.

And there’s a quiz! What’s not to love? I scored horribly, I admit. Really just God awful. I could quibble with quiz-master John Tierney about whether it is really important to know the length of the dashed white lines on the highway...but the fact remains that I didn’t even have the right number of digits.

Check it out. Let me know how you did. Help me restore my delusional belief that I know all about driving. Thanks. 

Here’s my latest TIME article about the new developments in the anthrax case. The FBI has released a slew of documents related to the case. And they make a compelling case for why Bruce Ivins was a suspect in the attacks.

But just as revealing as the documents are what the FBI did not release. We still do not know any details of the mysterious and fantastic new science that the government says it used to link the anthrax used in the attacks to anthrax used by Ivins. We do not know what their search of his cars, home and other property (in November 2007) turned up. We do not know if he had a convincing alibi on the days the anthrax letters were mailed.

Once again, we have a rash of anonymous federal sources leaking information about these crucial questions, but not nearly enough straight-up transparency from the Justice Department.

I really wish we could have a trial in this case. Unlike many crimes, this one has enormous implications--for the many victims of these attacks, for counterterrorism policy in America, for deterring future bioterrorism attacks. But since Ivins committed suicide, our options for getting the truth are limited. Congressional hearings are a sure thing; an independent investigation would be better. 

We have all heard stories about atrocious tragedies in which no one did anything to help anyone (i.e. the soul-crushing story Kitty Genovese, which is actually a little more complicated than the legend that has grown up around it).

But the more common response looks more like this story from the Minneapolis Star Tribune, in which a random group of bystanders rushed into a burning van to rescue five disabled passengers before the vehicle burst into flames. Heroism is a lot more prosaic than we think. *Special thanks to Thomas for sending me this story.

I just got back from Frederick, MD, the town that has become the epicenter of the anthrax investigation. (Twice!) The latest developments in this strange and seemingly endless mystery are dizzying to the point of nauseating.

Basically, the FBI’s latest suspect killed himself last week in Frederick, before any charges had been filed. So the story broke before the feds were ready to go public. The end result was a great, gaping void. While the FBI waited to get clearance to make its evidence public, reporters speculated, officials leaked and scientists buzzed. The news cycle waits for no one, and definitely not for truth.

Supposedly, we will get more clarity (in the form of evidence, one hopes) tomorrow afternoon. Stay tuned. This is actually a very important case in the history of bioterrorism--and crime and the FBI. But it has gone on for so long, with so little resolution, that it can be hard to keep up.