One of the first pieces of writing wisdom I ever came across was simply this: writers write.
That is, people who have ideas for books aren't writers. People who put words on paper are writers. Once those words are on paper, they sometimes develop a life of their own... much to the writer's surprise. That's sort of what happened with my first book, The Radical Elements of Radical Success.
Here's the thing: I continue to have mixed feelings about my Radical Elements book (now available for the Kindle - just $2.99!).
Well, maybe the mixed feelings aren't so much about the book as the success-lit genre in general. There's a thick ribbon of scam & futility running through that particular shelf in your local book store, and I'm deeply skeptical of any approach that offers five easy steps or three hidden truths or a dozen hollow cliches guaranteed to change your life.
Even though I worked mightily to avoid that approach and to stand the genre on its head, the fact that my first book was in that genre has always rankled me a bit. I can't believe I wrote one of those books (and I hope it's not one of those books). At the same time, I always felt I had to write that book. I always felt it was important that I write it. Whether or not it's worth reading is a whole other question. I can only say the process taught me a lot about myself and about how to be a writer.
The fact that it continues to sell always comes as somewhat of a surprise. I don't do any marketing. I don't run around and give my Radical Elements presentation anymore. Now, it's not like I'm selling thousands of copies or anything - just a steady little trickle - but that trickle is way more than I ever expected. Occasionally, my royalties are even enough to buy a pizza. I wonder what might happen if I actually put effort into selling it.
I don't think it's a bad book - it's actually pretty good. I also don't think it's a great book. For that matter, I wouldn't even say it's my best book (but please don't ask me to pick which one I do think is my best). But good, bad or ugly, it's my book.
Then... every once in a while something happens that makes me step back and reconsider the book in a kinder light. When I went to update the Kindle version with the new cover, I found a 5-star review someone had left on Amazon... last March. I don't know Mr. Shipman, but I do appreciate his kind words. Here are some of them:
Ward provides a no-holds barred view [of the] elements necessary to succeed. He says on the back cover (something to the effect); "if you're looking for a get rich quick book, keep looking." There is a lot of fluff in the motivation/self-help genre--Ward's book is anything but "fluff." His advice is practical, his wisdom timeless. Highly recommended.
Being a writer is weird. You put words on paper and send them out in to the world, never knowing where they'll find a home. Never knowing if they'll have an impact, if they'll be accepted or if they'll even be noticed. But in this digital age it's easier than ever for those words to make a life of their own, to go places I'll never go and meet people I'll never meet.
I just wanted to say I think that's pretty amazing.
A more-than-slightly-subversive blog,
dedicated to serving project leaders with attitude.
29 January 2011
28 January 2011
New Look, Same Great Taste
I always groan when I see words like New Look, Same Great Taste printed on the package of some product or other.
I suppose the producer is trying to reassure the public that what's inside hasn't changed (we all learned a lot from New Coke, didn't we?) even though the wrapper looks unfamiliar. But to me it always sounds like they're bragging about using a new layout on the package... as if that makes a big difference when you consume what's inside.
Sure, wine in expensive bottles tastes better than wine in cheap-looking bottles (even if it's the exact same wine), but something's fishy if the main message to consumer is "Look! New colors on our package!"
Having said all that, I'm proud to announce that my Radical Elements of Radical Success book has (drumroll please)... a brand new cover!
Now, I didn't rewrite a single word inside. I just replaced the craptastic original cover with a new one designed by the amazing Andrew Figel. New look, same great taste!
A quick look at my blue, yellow & red cover should make the need for change obvious. It looked like a 2nd grader did it. A second grader who only had 3 crayons. And who was told he couldn't go to recess until it was done so he'd better hurry up. Also, points would be taken off for creativity.
Will the book sell more copies now that it's got a better cover? Dunno. In a sense, that's not really the point (ok, it's kind of the point). Will readers enjoy the book more, ala the expensive bottle/cheap bottle wine experiment? Maybe. But the real reason for the change is to replace something sucktacular with something cool, by enlisting the assistance of someone who knows what he's doing (thank you, Andrew!) instead of relying on my own fumbling efforts.
I'm a big advocate of the DIY approach to making things. But I'm also in favor of collaboration. I think there's much wisdom in working together with people whose skill sets complement your own. Particularly if you're a writer whose visual skills are obviously limited to primary colors. A graphic designer I'm not.
So, stop on by Rogue Press to get your copy of the New Look. Thanks to improvements at Lulu, the price even dropped from $12 to $7.95 (and it's only $3 for the eBook, or read it online for free!).
I suppose the producer is trying to reassure the public that what's inside hasn't changed (we all learned a lot from New Coke, didn't we?) even though the wrapper looks unfamiliar. But to me it always sounds like they're bragging about using a new layout on the package... as if that makes a big difference when you consume what's inside.
Sure, wine in expensive bottles tastes better than wine in cheap-looking bottles (even if it's the exact same wine), but something's fishy if the main message to consumer is "Look! New colors on our package!"
Having said all that, I'm proud to announce that my Radical Elements of Radical Success book has (drumroll please)... a brand new cover!
Now, I didn't rewrite a single word inside. I just replaced the craptastic original cover with a new one designed by the amazing Andrew Figel. New look, same great taste!
A quick look at my blue, yellow & red cover should make the need for change obvious. It looked like a 2nd grader did it. A second grader who only had 3 crayons. And who was told he couldn't go to recess until it was done so he'd better hurry up. Also, points would be taken off for creativity.
The nicest thing I can say about my old cover is I managed to color inside the lines, but given the content of the book, I'm not sure that's a meaningful compliment. It's not even bad enough to be so-bad-it's-good. It's just bad. You'd think a guy who jabbers about design so much would be able to do something better than this. Sadly, this blue and yellow hideousness is literally... the best cover I could make.
Andrew's cover, on the other hand, is gorgeous.
Will the book sell more copies now that it's got a better cover? Dunno. In a sense, that's not really the point (ok, it's kind of the point). Will readers enjoy the book more, ala the expensive bottle/cheap bottle wine experiment? Maybe. But the real reason for the change is to replace something sucktacular with something cool, by enlisting the assistance of someone who knows what he's doing (thank you, Andrew!) instead of relying on my own fumbling efforts.
I'm a big advocate of the DIY approach to making things. But I'm also in favor of collaboration. I think there's much wisdom in working together with people whose skill sets complement your own. Particularly if you're a writer whose visual skills are obviously limited to primary colors. A graphic designer I'm not.
So, stop on by Rogue Press to get your copy of the New Look. Thanks to improvements at Lulu, the price even dropped from $12 to $7.95 (and it's only $3 for the eBook, or read it online for free!).
27 January 2011
The Project Pitch
I came across this advertisement at the local metro stop. It's an ad for a campaign called Region Forward, which is trying to make the Washington DC region "a better place to live, work, play and learn."
No, it was none of those. Let's take a closer look at that iPod, shall we?
Notice anything funny here? Like, the fact that it's displaying The New York Times? Yes, everyone knows the DC area doesn't have its own newspaper... oh, wait a minute. It does! It's called the Washington Post. But maybe the Washington Post is't available on the iPad? Actually, there is an app that lets you read the Post on an iPad.
Now, I'm no advertising expert. Maybe this was a clever ploy to get people to talk about the campaign (I guess it worked - I'm talking about it). Or maybe not. I suspect it's just one more example of a lack of design thinking.
I could understand an oversight if this was a complex layout. Maybe people were so busy with all the other design elements that they failed to notice a NY newspaper in an ad about DC. But the iPod is the only image in the display. Color me puzzled.
What does this have to do with project leadership? Just about everything. See, when you're leading a project, part of your job is to make the pitch, to sell it to leadership, to customers and to the project team itself. To explain it to the world in a clear and compelling way. I'm going to go way out on a limb and suggest the pitch should be (among other things) internally consistent. For example, if you're plugging DC, don't use the NY Times in your ads.
No doubt all the highly-trained, well-groomed professionals who read this blog already knew that. But apparently this bit of insight is news to some people here in the DC area...
25 January 2011
There's a right way and a wrong way...
Today's design lesson is on user behavior and how to influence it.
The image below is of a metal cabinet I encountered at a particular educational institution which shall go nameless. Let's just say it's a university that teaches the defense acquisition community.
Inside the cabinet you'll find a bunch of shelves. On each shelf is a laptop. The whole contraption is on wheels, the better to roll in and out of classrooms. With me so far? Excellent.
Imagine that you were asked to move this wheeled cabinet from Point A to Point B. Imagine yourself approaching the cabinet. See yourself reaching out to put your hands on the conveniently located handle that someone thoughtfully installed near the top of the cabinet. Grip the handle. Feel its cold metal against your skin. Lean in towards the cabinet and feel the wheels begin to turn. You're moving forward.
STOP!
Wait a minute! What does that yellow sticker say? Let's zoom in on the photo a bit, shall we? As always, this image was captured by my handy-dandy, oh-so-fuzzy little camera phone. I apologize for the quality but I'm sure you can understand the diagrams even if you can't make out the words...
Um, if the directions say "never apply force at top - always push near middle," then why in the world did someone install a handle at the very top of the box? What's the point of a a handle nobody is supposed to ever use? And really, who thinks a sticker is going to trump a handle?
See, installing a handle is one way to say PUSH HERE. Posting a wordy label is another way. And when the two contradict each other, the user is left a bit confused. There's a good chance they'll simply grab the handle and push, not paying any attention to the sticker.
As my brilliant colleague and friend Dr. Joel Sercel often says, designers need to make the right way easier than the wrong way. Installing a handle at the top of the cabinet does the reverse - it encourages the wrong behavior. It makes it easy to push from the top. As an alternative, installing the same handle in the middle of the cabinet practically guarantees proper pushing behavior. And with all due respect to my friends in the Sticker Engineering profession, a yellow sticker is a poor substitute for a well-placed handle.
20 January 2011
What's In A Name? (part 2)
A few more thoughts on The Naming Of Things.
If it's at all up to you, don't let the engineers name the technology (and I say this as a guy with more than one engineering degree). An engineer is likely to end up giving the system an engineering-based name which probably won't make much sense from a customer's perspective.
For example, those little communication devices we all carry around and use to send text messages (and occasionally to connect with someone voice-to-voice). We call them "cell phones" because they rely on a communication architecture based on "cells" that link up and provide continuous coverage over a geographic area and which zzzzzzzzzz. Oh, sorry, I fell asleep for a minute.
The point is, an engineer obviously named the cell phone. Sadly, we all fell for it.
The Brits do it better. They call these things "mobile phones," because you can move around with them. See, they're mobile. Get it? And really, how many users care what sort of communications architecture their mobile runs on? It honestly doesn't matter.
Here are a few more examples of unnecessarily techy names: Microwave oven, X-ray, MP3 Player, Cable Television, Radio-Frequency Identification (RFID), convection oven... you get the picture.
Who cares that the Fast Cooker uses the microwave portion of the electromagnetic spectrum to heat up my Hot Pocket(tm), or that the Inside Viewer uses the X-ray portion of the spectrum to watch that same Hot Pocket work its way through my GI tract?
And seriously, "MP3 player"? That stands for MPEG-1 Audio Layer 3, 'cause it's really important we give the Motion Picture Experts Group credit for helping develop the "lossy compression standard" that enables large music and video files to be zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Sorry, I fell asleep again. I think I need to turn up the volume on my iPod.
If it's at all up to you, don't let the engineers name the technology (and I say this as a guy with more than one engineering degree). An engineer is likely to end up giving the system an engineering-based name which probably won't make much sense from a customer's perspective.
For example, those little communication devices we all carry around and use to send text messages (and occasionally to connect with someone voice-to-voice). We call them "cell phones" because they rely on a communication architecture based on "cells" that link up and provide continuous coverage over a geographic area and which zzzzzzzzzz. Oh, sorry, I fell asleep for a minute.
The point is, an engineer obviously named the cell phone. Sadly, we all fell for it.
The Brits do it better. They call these things "mobile phones," because you can move around with them. See, they're mobile. Get it? And really, how many users care what sort of communications architecture their mobile runs on? It honestly doesn't matter.
Here are a few more examples of unnecessarily techy names: Microwave oven, X-ray, MP3 Player, Cable Television, Radio-Frequency Identification (RFID), convection oven... you get the picture.
Who cares that the Fast Cooker uses the microwave portion of the electromagnetic spectrum to heat up my Hot Pocket(tm), or that the Inside Viewer uses the X-ray portion of the spectrum to watch that same Hot Pocket work its way through my GI tract?
And seriously, "MP3 player"? That stands for MPEG-1 Audio Layer 3, 'cause it's really important we give the Motion Picture Experts Group credit for helping develop the "lossy compression standard" that enables large music and video files to be zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Sorry, I fell asleep again. I think I need to turn up the volume on my iPod.
19 January 2011
Bonus Post: 2011 Reading List
In one of life's weird little paradoxes, the worst thing about my current job is also one of the coolest.
I'm talking about my commute, of course. It's an hour each way, a fact I try not to think about too much. Frankly, it kills me that I spend 10 hours each week just getting to work and back. Gak - I literally hadn't done that math until just now. Pardon me, I need a moment.
Ahem.
OK, I'm back. Where was I? Oh yeah, I was saying my commute is simultaneously one of the worst and best things about my job. What could possibly be good about spending that much time in transit? Two words: I get to do a lot of reading. Not sure that quite makes up for the (gulp) 10 hours a week, but it does take the sting out.
So, I figured I'd recommend a few recent reads and post my current List Of Books I'm Gonna Read. I'm hoping my readers will pass along a few recommendations of your own.
I recently finished Mary Roach's Packing For Mars
, which was brilliant and hilarious. I haven't read her previous books yet, but if they're anything like this one, sign me up. I also just wrapped up Steve Martin's new book, An Object of Beauty
. I loved his The Pleasure of My Company
, and this new one didn't disappoint. Not a funny book per se, but thoroughly enjoyable. Cory Doctorow's Little Brother
brought out the hacker in me, although politically conservative readers may find his political commentary off putting. And speaking of hacking, it's always fun to flip through 2600 magazine.
What's ahead? Here's my current list:
I'm talking about my commute, of course. It's an hour each way, a fact I try not to think about too much. Frankly, it kills me that I spend 10 hours each week just getting to work and back. Gak - I literally hadn't done that math until just now. Pardon me, I need a moment.
Ahem.
OK, I'm back. Where was I? Oh yeah, I was saying my commute is simultaneously one of the worst and best things about my job. What could possibly be good about spending that much time in transit? Two words: I get to do a lot of reading. Not sure that quite makes up for the (gulp) 10 hours a week, but it does take the sting out.
So, I figured I'd recommend a few recent reads and post my current List Of Books I'm Gonna Read. I'm hoping my readers will pass along a few recommendations of your own.
I recently finished Mary Roach's Packing For Mars
What's ahead? Here's my current list:
- Better
, Atul Gawande (I read Complications
a few years ago. Amazing!)
- Earth, The Book
, Daily Show Staff
- Colonel Roosevelt
, Morris (Best.President.Ever. Morris' other two books - Rise
and Rex
- were incredible)
- Scouting The Divine
, Feinberg (My wife loves Margaret Feinberg and this book looks remarkable)
- The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
, Larsson (heard so much about it figured I should pick it up)
- Alcatraz vs the Knights of Crystalia
, Sanderson (Kid lit = my favorite genre)
- The Wordy Shipmates
, Vowell (She cracks me up)
- The Ghost Map
, Johnson (picked this one up on the bargain rack - looks interesting)
- The Ragamuffin Gospel
, Manning (this one's a re-read. Knocked my socks off the first time through)
- Naked Heat
, Castle (I know, it's not really written by Richard Castle, 'cause he's not real. But any tv show with a writer as the main character has my attention right away)
- Kon Tiki
, Heyerdahl (Picked this up at my parent's place, and the first page grabbed me by the shoulder and wouldn't let go)
- Man's Search For Meaning
, Frankl (Heard about this one for forever, figured I'd take a look)
- The Gospels of Luke & John (technically not commute related - I'm reading these over breakfast)
And of course there's Wired magazine and a recent issue of Analog Santa brought me.
18 January 2011
A Brief Comment On Design
There I was, waiting for an elevator to take me downstairs when a ding sounded and a light indicated that an elevator door was about to open. With lightning-fast reflexes honed by years of practice, I whipped out my handy-dandy, oh-so-fuzzy little camera phone and snapped this shot of the indicator light above the elevator doors, moments before they glided open.
Why did I take a picture of an elevator indicator light, you might ask? Permit me to answer that question with a question of my own: Which way is this elevator going?
Tell me - do you think a red light on the right side mean the car is going up or going down? The alternative is a yellow-ish light on the left, if that helps. Any guesses?
This design seems almost willfully wrong, doesn't it? I mean, you've got to really TRY to deliver a signal this ambiguous.There are so many different ways they could have designed this indicator correctly.
For starters, the lights could have been oriented on top of each other instead of side by side. Not enough room to put them on top of each other? Fine! They could have been shaped like arrows or triangles instead of circles. Can't change the orientation or the shape? No problem - just paint arrows, triangles or the letters U and D on the side by side circles. Can't paint on the circles themselves? Alrighty - put an indicator (arrows, etc) next to each circle.
My point is the elevator people had many options... and they picked the worst one.
An indicator that doesn't indicate anything is pointless. In fact, it's worse than pointless, because it creates the impression of communicating something even though the signal is actually content free.
And that's when it hit me. This set of lights is actually a metaphor for formal communication in offices these days, particularly when PowerPoint is involved. Lots of lights & inexplicable colors. An occasional *ding.* And if you stick around long enough you'll eventually figure out that Red means Down. But you'll never discover why they didn't just say Down in the first place.
Why did I take a picture of an elevator indicator light, you might ask? Permit me to answer that question with a question of my own: Which way is this elevator going?
Tell me - do you think a red light on the right side mean the car is going up or going down? The alternative is a yellow-ish light on the left, if that helps. Any guesses?
This design seems almost willfully wrong, doesn't it? I mean, you've got to really TRY to deliver a signal this ambiguous.There are so many different ways they could have designed this indicator correctly.
For starters, the lights could have been oriented on top of each other instead of side by side. Not enough room to put them on top of each other? Fine! They could have been shaped like arrows or triangles instead of circles. Can't change the orientation or the shape? No problem - just paint arrows, triangles or the letters U and D on the side by side circles. Can't paint on the circles themselves? Alrighty - put an indicator (arrows, etc) next to each circle.
My point is the elevator people had many options... and they picked the worst one.
An indicator that doesn't indicate anything is pointless. In fact, it's worse than pointless, because it creates the impression of communicating something even though the signal is actually content free.
And that's when it hit me. This set of lights is actually a metaphor for formal communication in offices these days, particularly when PowerPoint is involved. Lots of lights & inexplicable colors. An occasional *ding.* And if you stick around long enough you'll eventually figure out that Red means Down. But you'll never discover why they didn't just say Down in the first place.
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