"You can't afford to create a piece of content for any one platform.
Instead of crafting a website, you have to put mor effort into crafting the description of the different bits of an asset, so they can be reused more effectively, so they can deliver more value."
— Nic Newman, BBC
I love seeing people who understand their craft talk about it from their perspective with such ease and confidence. Though as some of the comments suggest, it's easy to mistinterpret some of what he says or to get hung up on irrelevant details. Take it with a grain of salt, realizing that his perspective is one and yours another.
A couple of things stood out to me. While he makes sure to contrast his processes from that of graphic designers, he seems to forget to acknowledge that there are even further differences between interaction designers, typographic designers and graphic designers. I personally think it's laughable when he compares designing for mobile screens with designing a tiny medication booklet and I really dislike that he is continuing the "web is just the same as paper" mantra (from the viewpoint that it continues the metaphor of pages and having page bounds, etc). However, there are also gems of design truth, no matter what "kind" of designer you are:
"...it's just [the] same as always. You solve a problem; you think about the users; you think about the issue at hand... you make that important and that, again, print or web or mobile phone, makes no difference whatsoever."
Thanks to Elliot Jay Stocks for sharing.
There is so much good reading on iA. This one is timeless, from 2006:
If you stick to the basic rules of good manners, no dumb insults, no hateful slurs, no blind attacks, if you only think before you say something, then the web can be an instrument to show yourself in a real good light. Wild and well spirited.
With the proliferation of frameworks and snippets of code, jQuery and grids and starter themes and my own work from which to steal—I have to say that mindless copy and paste development has become the norm for me.
There's nothing wrong with reusing something that works but I feel like I'm losing my grip on the creation of it all. I'm not exercising that part of my brain often enough to keep it active and moving forward; instead stagnating on the same fashioned delivery I've used for years. When new methods like, say, one for image replacement1 surface, I find myself using the snippet without thinking about how it works. The other day, I discovered that my neighbor taught HTML 1.0 and it reminded me of the self-guided effort it took to learn what I know today and what needs some attention and care and curation in order to further myself. I also watched Harry Roberts'2 talk, Breaking Good Habits on Friday (scroll down to watch it yourself) and it too made me question myself—in a good way.
So today I started piecing together my own internal starter theme for WordPress as I embark on Amy's3 badly needed redesign. Every WordPress project I take on starts with rehashing the same steps, second-guessing the decisions I made in the last project (Which is better, Starkers or Bones? Or is there another one I'm missing out on? GAHHH!) and spending way too much time feeling like I don't have the right tools for the job, and in the end I feel like I put out subpar work even if no one is inspecting my work with a fine-toothed comb4. Sidenote: I think this is also why try as I may, I can't seem to use other CMSs like Squarespace. I need to see the sausage being made, or make it myself in order to feel good about the result.
Anything that I'm duplicating from another theme like the WordPress default theme, I'm thinking about its value and purpose and I'm transcribing the code rather than copy/pasting. Tedious, yes but I want to spark those markup-making neurons and make sure there's as little cruft as possible. I may reuse elements I've found to be successful in other projects, but I will recode them as well.
I'm also utilizing LESS and working mobile-first. I'm not creating any mockup, and I'm starting with the two objectives we've decided on: gaining readership, and converting visitors to class signups.
Lastly, I'm still trying to figure out how I want to incorporate git in my WordPress workflow. I'm using it for this project, but I can't say it feels solid yet. If you've found a way that works well and have any tips, let me know. I'm very interested in Mark Jaquaith's WordPress Skeleton5, but at the risk of biting off too much right now I'm saving that for later.
I'm giving myself some grace as I fumble through it all. In time I know I'll find a method that feels right.
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I've been extremely busy over at Grady Britton so I haven't been able to keep up with the blog, but I felt I had to get this short message out there. See you on the other side!
Today's Creative Mornings PDX talk by JD Hooge was up-and-up, inspiring... Such a great team doing fun work. However, here's what was going through my head around the middle of the talk:
You are not good enough.
I know good and well from five years of marriage that keeping things in my head only exacerbates whatever issue is at hand. Having a history of self-deprecation doesn't help either. This is me, getting it out there in the wild: I nearly cried (not really... well... maybe) in the middle of Creative Mornings. So there's that.
I was sitting there, this phrase, "you are not good enough," and other thoughts of worthlessness circling in my head, and then this happened:
I sincerely appreciate where JD ended up in this discussion. Affirming what we believe in our cores, that really we are all trying to sort this out; that none of us have it perfected; that simply trying, doing, striving, "hustling," — that's it. That's the point. Getting hung up on what others have done (not to mention forgetting that it's not one individual, but a team creating these amazing things) is very easy to do. For me, and I assume I'm not alone.
So for myself, and for you if you want it, here's the anti-self-deprecation prescription for the day (any day):
Go do.
Yeah?
"The smallest changes can be transformative. But they have to be the right changes. Discovering what those are takes patience. You have to pay attention. You have to be available in response."
"We've talked a lot about responsive design lately... But responsiveness isn't just something we can build into our products. It's an attitude we can adopt. We can learn to listen to the changing environment; to be available in response."
This is spiritual. Kudos, Wilson. Well said.
A great user experience leaves one feeling fulfilled... satisfied. It is exactly what it claims to be: A great experience. Think back to the last concert you went to. I can only think of three concerts that I have attended in the past five years or so that met my Great Experience requirements.
Maybe I'm just developing, growing into my forthcoming curmudgeon-ous self. Maybe the degeneration of the concert as an enjoyable event is due in great part to the growing number of damn kids these days who have zero respect and enough self-infatuation to drown out the loudest of sounds. I wouldn't count them out (GET OFF MY LAWN!) but they can't be blamed entirely. The stereotypical 41-year-old drunken idiot brings another persona into the light.
I could blame every attendee who has an agenda other than enjoying the pleasure of listening intently to an artist as they perform their craft. Or I could blame the artist for letting the crowd walk all over them. One of the best shows I've ever been to—Ryan Adams at the Egyptian Ballroom in Indianapolis in 2007, where the usual cajoling was met with great banter and sarcasm from Ryan and band, including a full-fledged "Shut Uuuuuup," from Mr. Adams.
So who/what is to blame, really? In my opinion, in the end, the venue. The combination of crowd, noise, alcohol, ego, and no one paying attention to the circumstances—every part of the venue experience is a contributing factor to the utter fail that seems to persist, and they have the control to change everything about it.
The overall best show I've ever been to was a living room show with David Bazan. The environment (and yes, the musician too) set the expectation. The audience in a living room show is very small; the venue intimate. You can't chat with your friends during any part of the show. There's no wandering to the bar, interrupting others' focus. No sing-alongs unless the artist requests it. There's no going overboard with alcohol in general. Basically, if you're an asshole, you will be noticed. Watch and enjoy this apropos rendition, Bazan's performance of "Hard to Be," at a living room show in MA:
If venues wanted to dramatically improve the quality of the concerts they put on, they could take a giant leap by lowering the overall volume. People hide behind the wall of sound, assuming no one else can hear the full-fledged conversation they're having with their BFF.
Two examples: Augustana in Indianapolis at The Vogue theater. For an encore, the band came back on stage, grabbed their acoustic instruments and headed down into the pit where they played a song or two, unplugged. At the quiet moments in the song, it was quiet in the house. When they invited everyone to sing along, it was spiritual.
Second: The Avett Brothers at the Oregon State Fairgrounds, when the younger Avett, Seth, started playing "Sixteen in July," the sound for the guitar cut out. He didn't miss a beat, turned the guitar behind his back and continued a-cappella. I've never heard a venue so quiet—especially not one outdoors, packed with thousands of people.
I love hard crunching guitars and loud drums, but overall concert audio is beyond loud. Sometimes it's the little things that can change the entire course of a user experience. But is anyone paying attention? Where is the Apple of music venues? Where is the attention to detail? Fidelity of sound?
I'd happily pay for it, as I do with Apple products. And with the lifeblood of musicians being the live show these days, isn't that worth something?
I'm hooked on the vast collection of television shows featuring the world-famous Chef Ramsay. If you've caught an episode of any of the number of shows he's in, you either know exactly what I'm talking about or you changed the channel because the intensity was too much to bear (Amy finds them absolutely nerve-wracking).
While these four lessons may not be anything extensive, new, or revolutionary, I was reminded of my own experiences and philosophy as an independent designer while watching Ramsay's Best Restaurant and his other shows. Here's what came to mind:
When an order is called, you have to respond loud-and-clear or be prepared to have your ass handed to you. Maybe it's not so dramatic for us, but this is also true in running a business.
I know it's easy to get distracted; to let email rot in the inbox or to listen to a voicemail only to ignore it for a week, but you have to realize it's detrimental to providing a great customer experience. The last thing you want is an angry client yelling "ANSWER ME!" I can be really bad at this, but taking five minutes even just to tell the client you'll respond in-full soon will save frustration on both ends.
On Best Restaurant, when the kitchen makes a mistake, it's up to the service staff to smooth things over. If you're independent like me, that means playing both roles—or as my grandfather used to say, you're "chief cook and bottle washer." It's all in your hands. Feel the pressure? That can be a good thing.
"Listen, listen... If you just shut the @%!^% up for 30 seconds you might learn something! Now stop being a stubborn little @!@$% and !%$#%^ move your ass!" — Chef Ramsay, Hell's Kitchen Season 3, of course
Pressure can motivate, but don't let it get the best of you. We're all human, so be human. Treat your customers like you would want to be treated, or better. If you fail, at the very least offer a sincere apology. If you want to make an impression, "comp their meal."
The first is easy: when you do something well, when you're finished, celebrate! You deserve it. The second isn't as easy to do, but it will boost the first: admit mistakes. Do it without being pushed, and do it quickly. Humble honesty will serve you well.
Again, on Best Restaurant, the final challenge for two competing restaurant teams involves preparing an appetizer and entrée in Ramsay's kitchen. It's easy for the chefs to become rattled and nervous. When a mistake is made, the recovery depends on how quickly the chef is able to correct the mistake and how quickly they are able to move on afterward. The worst situations involve a spiral of doubt, feeding the nerves, fueling even more mistakes. Move on!
I've heard Chef Ramsay ask this on the pass as orders are being plated, before service is called. It's the last chance for errors to be corrected before it goes out. He might know that it's good enough, or he might be leading the chef on to admit a mistake before they make it worse.
Bottom line: Check yourself. Would you be happy receiving this? Would you eat it? If so, ship it. Would you demand better? Don't expect your clients to react any differently.
On a related note: taste everything that leaves the kitchen. Draw your own parallels here. For me it's not handing out something half-baked (which I'm definitely guilty of)... browser testing, quality assurance... making sure I'd want to use what I put out, catching issues before they become catastrophes.
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I'm not a business consultant or expert but it seems to me that no matter what kind of business you're in, these are simple principles that can give one an edge over another. In my experience, the bar is still low in customer service. I'm constantly reminded, through service-based interactions (and the lame excuses that follow) that there's no reason not to go the extra mile to make sure your clients/customers leave happy and full.
Do that, and you will be praised. As Chef Ramsay would say in quick, Brit fashion, "Well done."
Here we are—one year left on earth. AM I RIGHT?! No but seriously, the kid in me was hoping to round out this list with a single priority in 2012: Learn to Fly Your New Car. Since that's obviously not going to happen, you'll have to settle with this, in no particular order:
Last year was wildly successful, but I don't want to maintain. I'm planning to launch a new website, blog regularly, and sell physical products. I have a whole line of posters I'm itching to create, and Amy and I may start a new shared company to sell other items I'm super excited about. I want to flesh out my design and business philosophies as well.
I don't know what this looks like for me. It could be donating time and effort to a non-profit that does good work. I want it to be local—I think it's important to see the results of that investment. Every day during the interstitials on NPR, there's that quote "...to do what Andrew Carnegie called 'real and permanent good.'" I love that idea. What can I do that may cause a permanent result?
One of the issues with last year's resolution to get the savings account pumped up was the fact that it didn't address the real issue: debt. What good is a well-funded savings account when it is equaled by debt? We have been paying toward our credit card debt for years, paying much more than the minimum, but it just doesn't work quickly enough to have any effect.
I used to cringe at the name Dave Ramsey (and I still cringe at his voice) but after reading a post by Megan Clark, a designer I admire, we decided it was worth a try. As a form of protest to some of his philosophies, I rented his books from the library. Aside from being overly repetitive and the religious interjections, it seemed to warrant a try.
We've been working on paying off our first credit card, and will have all credit cards and our auto loan paid off by June if all goes according to plan, and then will continue paying on school loans, which will take a little longer. Freeing up an average $1200/month sounds pretty good to me.
Spiritually... Last Sunday I started what I would like to make routine. After a nice relaxed morning, at 10 AM I turned on This American Life and simply listened. I'm calling it "church," because that show has inspired me to think outside my meager existence and consider the lives of others on an agenda-less basis more so than any evangelical sermon.
Historically, the lens through which I view the world has been very uni-directional and stationary or, on the other hand, directionless and uninformed. I'm not happy with that anymore, nor am I happy with simply having an opinion. I want a foundation to build on, which I think means studying various thoughts that have credence and forming my opinion based off of that input.
...intellectually... I'll turn 30 this year, which is funny because I still feel like a kid most of the time. I'd like to find a design/business mentor; someone who has "been there," with whom I can discuss design and business; life and emotion.
...musically. I'd like to pick my guitar back up and start writing music again.
I've never been flexible and my posture worsens by the year. That combination scares the crap out of me. Picture an old man walking, yet bent 90 degrees at the waist... that's what I picture in my future, and I'm not stoked about that.
I have definitely enjoyed both branding and iOS app planning and design and would be thrilled if I could land a project that has the backing to provide for a realistic, comprehensive scope. If you know of one, let me know. ;o)
Amy and I have made a goal to live in France for a couple months next year. I need to brush up on re-learn French!
I hope that list grows throughout the year (ideally, without pushing anything off the list). Maybe this will be the year I learn to write Javascript from scratch. Maybe I'll initiate a goal of camping throughout the year. Hold me to it, ok?
Would anyone else like to share their own 2012 goals? Comment below, and if you also blog, link to your post. Cheers!
Like basically everyone else on the web, I have a resolution to blog more this year. It's nothing new in that sense and it's nothing new to me. Previous numerous failed attempts have left me with archives of files and databases with a few published posts and lots of draft posts, along with the hesitation stemming from a sense that everything is already being said by everyone else more loudly or more eloquently.
I have wanted to kick myself into it since Amy started blogging. Her personality shines through in her posts and I love it! After a year of debating and false-starts, I re-installed WordPress fresh and started organizing a few thoughts. After reading Elliot Jay Stocks' 2011 In Review, Goals for 2012, and clicking through to Ideas of March (A Return to Blogging), I decided it was time to stop thinking about it so much and just start. The new year just happened to be the right time.
Here we go. At the onset of the year, I posted a list to Instagram: "I Want To, 2011." It seems appropriate that I would see how it turned out:
Overall grade? Probably, "D." In my defense, I had a few things on my mind.
At the start of the year, I was working remotely for a start-up, working on design and user-experience while also worrying about marketing, pricing, features... That job deteriorated into sleepless nights and eventually in February I was let go, somewhat willingly.
After seeking out a few agency positions, I found (or they found) our fit wasn't great either. I am not a specialist, and apparently agencies love specialization. I started taking on contract work in April to keep income steady, and eight months later, well I can't imagine being employed by anyone else at this point.
I worked on everything from branding Josh Barrett at CreateLegal—a great lawyer if you need one—and my old friends at Commonway, to creating code and some design for J-House Labs and Avelient. In June, I was brought on at Grady Britton for three weeks and thoroughly enjoyed it (and so did they; I'm currently back for a six-week stint) and also enjoyed working with the teams at tenfour and StruckAxiom. I created website comps, wireframes, icons, OS interfaces... I turned projects around quickly, "put out fires," and I would say overall I built upon "Mr. Wolf" status. I solve problems... Sans blood, crime and cocky demeanor.
It was a very successful year, and I have a lot of people to thank for it. You know who you are, and you are awesome. Thank you!
I will bust out a few goals for 2012 soon. Stay tuned.
