My job role is UX Designer, my career is as an Information Architect, and I love Design.
But really, somewhere deep inside, there’s still a fiction writer honing her craft in here.
In this week’s post for The Interconnected, I wrote about looking at exactly how many damned files one person can generate for one unpublished (and unfinished!) novel… and exactly what a mess I’ve made.
There’s a tiny part of me that hopes I never do hit it big, because I don’t want to hoist this mess off on some poor unsuspecting archivist in the future.
I’m doing a lot of writing design guidelines at work right now — essentially codifying in words the things we’re already doing. Paving the cowpaths if you will.
My June 28 post on The Interconnected is about where to put design guidelines when you write them, what application to write them in, what to put in them, and why nobody’s going to read them but you.
Read Back to Basics: Writing Design Guidelines on The Interconnected
The truth about sucking at things is that you do it at the beginning, and suck less until you master a thing.
The damned annoying truth about sucking at things is that if they don’t have defined limits to what “mastery” looks like, you’re always going to be able to see progress. And that means, well, you’re going to suck.
Read the damned annoying truth about sucking at things on The Pastry Box.
I recently took a weekend retreat to the Pocono mountains to write.
I learned a lot about writing, a lot about writing retreats, and a little about web design in the process. If design is the rendering of intent, as Jared Spool says, then writing is the ultimate act of design — even when it’s fiction writing.
Read more about rendering intent, in all its incarnations on The Pastry Box
My latest column on The Pastry Box is about getting the design team (and especially the business representatives) past the idea that their audience is “everyone” so that you can target the most valuable users of the site. Read Back to Basics: Differentiating Personas.