In case you all didn’t know, I travel a lot. In my day job, I’m a User Experience guy, and that never quite switches off. It’s my job to make products clear, empowering and delightful.
- Clear: Users can correctly intuit what to do with the system.
- Empowering: The system serves the reasonable needs of the users in a naturalistic way.
- Delightful: The system delivers unexpected delight.
I’ve discovered in my travels that, aside from forks, knives and spoons, most of our everyday objects are poorly designed. It’s almost like the manufacturers have no idea what it’s like to actually live with their products.
The humble shower faucet has more bad variations on this theme than anything else, and I’ve become a little obsessed because they’re non-electronic systems that totally suck. A shower is a two-dimensional interface (pressure/temperature), and in theory, it should be simple, right?
Have a look at some of my favorites.
Mental model mismatch: the system appears to be using one control methodology, but is using another.
Friends often send me texts: “I want to apply for this job, but I don’t fit the qualifications. Do you think I should go for it?”
That’s really similar to, “I want to write this book, but I don’t think anyone will take me seriously.”
A few years ago, I went to New York City for the first time (as an adult). I was there to celebrate my 10th anniversary with my amazing wife, and we were on our own dime. We couldn’t afford to take cabs, so it was time to learn to use the subway. We’d never done it before. Without asking anyone, we started trying to get around, checking maps and cross-referencing. Before long, we ended up in Brooklyn as we tried to hit Times Square.
For those who know New York, that’s a Super Subway Fuck Up™.
Once more, I am in awe of Connor Goldsmith, who sold my three-book series, “The Salvagers,” to Orbit, a major SF publisher.
I’m extremely grateful for his help, as well as to Brit Hvide, my new editor, who sees my story with the same eyes I do. I know we’re going to make some brilliant books together.
And for those fans who loved The Gearheart, get ready! While the book isn’t in the same universe, it’s a spiritual successor. Kind of like Xenosaga to Xenogears, to quote my PS1-literate agent. If you’re ready for magic, adventure and gunfights (in space), you came to the right place!
I’ll keep you all in the loop over the coming year about our progress and when you can expect to read it. For more about the first book, go here!
So you’re thinking of going to a con, but you’re not sure if you want to buy a ticket! Have you considered… the humble Bar Con? You could just go, get a room and hang out in the bar!
I was inspired by Piper J Drake’s excellent post on the subject, and wanted to add my own two cents. She’s seen a lot of shitty behavior in the con scene, and has some totally valid issues. That’s why I figured I’d write this primer.
There are a few good reasons to Bar Con:
“My book came out yesterday!”
“Oh yeah? How do you get published?”
First, you get an agent.
In 2006, I finished my first novel. I started querying. By 2007, it became clear that no one wanted it. Barbara Lowenstein sent me my first form rejection letter.
In 2009, I finished THE GEARHEART. Again, I started querying. The only real response came from Laurie McLean, then of Larsen Pomada. I met her through Philippa Ballantine.
Laurie said, in a nutshell, “Great imagination! Your craft sucks!”
I spent 3 years wasting time on that book, trying to get it right, rewriting it from scratch. I never did.
I am a creature of habit. This post is going to sound entitled and whiny, but I’m going to describe core parts of my personality, and (hopefully) how I overcame them.
Between the years of 2011 and 2015, I had a set schedule. Arrive at work at 8:00 am. Write from 11:30 to 1:00, leave work at 5:30pm. We had a conference room scheduler at my office, so I would always grab one of the rooms with a perfect, picturesque view of a green hillside. It was like the Windows XP background up in there.
The routine was easy: First, I walked the quarter mile to my secret meeting room. I heated up my lunch while my computer booted. Then I streamed music into my sanctuary and shut out everything except me and the window. And, man, that made me so happy.
But I was promoted and moved to an Army base.
I’m not the best at a first-draft name. It’s tough, because I’m usually writing it with little to no knowledge of how the project will actually turn out. I may as well call it NOVEL 09 DRAFT1 and be done.
Inevitably, I’ll have to change the name when it goes to my agent. But what do I call it now? How do I alter the way I think and talk about the book?
I use a chart.