Earlier this week I had the pleasure of becoming a published author.
My book on card sorting is now available.
You can buy it right from the book website - either the printed version (plus digital) or digital alone.
Or you can get it via amazon if you are buying other things at the same time : Card sorting (Donna Spencer).
Please let me know what you think!
I’m going to be in London in June (for UX London) for the first time and have about 4.5 days completely free to tourist. I have absolutely no idea what I absolutely must do. I will definitely see stereotypically London things but need some help with the weird things that I might specifically like.
So, based on my previous touristing, here’s what I like:
And I really don’t need:
So tell me what I should at least research. And tell me what I should think about…
Sometimes twitter just doesn’t do it for a good, solid ‘what have I been doing’ catch up post. So here’s one that takes more than 140 characters.
It’s already April and I feel like I haven’t done much work this year. Of course, I have been busy as hell. I’ve done loads of planning and administration for UX Australia, wrote a brand new full-day advanced information architecture workshop, and had plenty of meetings with content authors for a long-running government project.
What I’ve really been doing is teaching. I’ve done five in-house full-day workshops, 2 conference talks, 1 full-day conference workshop and 2 full-day public workshops. So that’s work, and it’s work I love. But it is so fun that I forget that it is actually work, and feel like I haven’t done anything.
But really, the pain of airports and airplanes should make it feel like work. I’ve travelled so much this year that I can visualise the Qantas Club lounge in every Australian city (except Adelaide). I do think I could walk in and make it to the wine bar with my eyes closed.
But April is looking up. I’m home all month, in my lovely house, with my lovely dog and a brand new bed (mattress arriving Thursday, 1000TC sheets ready in the cupboard). I have a nice pile of client web writing, new book writing (I’m writing an e-book on web content for Rockable press), some wireframes for a favourite client, and more bits and pieces for UX Australia.
I hope that the biggest news for April will be that my card sorting book is published. It is at the printer now, and should be ready in a couple of weeks. I promise I’ll tell you when that happens.
May is also looking like fun. By then I’ll be over my travel fatigue, which is good as I’m going to Philadelphia to talk at the jboye conference (IA workshop and content talk). Just as cool is that I’m going to be around for the IXD/IASummit redux in DC. Going to hire a car, drive from Philly to DC, see some friends. Ahhhh, I’m already getting excited about it.
Then June. OMG June!
In June I’m first going to Denmark to teach an interaction design masterclass (and some community of practice meetings). Then to London to do some touristing with my friend CJ (I’ve never been to London), then two workshops at UX London, then more touristing, then home.
So in late June, I’ll be saying ‘I’m so glad to be home’ and desperately waiting to get away again. I feel like that Camp Grenada song - you know, the one where the kid starts of hating it, then loves it. Me & travel - Camp Grenada.
One of the main challenges with creating any categorisation system is to make sure it collects what you need and matches up to the real world.
Here’s a list of single-select items I just came across on an otherwise-decent survey for a hotel where I recently stayed:
Firstly, I wonder how it is useful to them to know about my family situation. But secondly, where do I fit? Right now I’m single, with a child who lives with me half time. That so doesn’t fit into any of those categories…
I woke up feeling strange this morning. No, it wasn’t the three hours sleep - I know what that feels like. And it wasn’t a hangover - I certainly know what those feel like. It was something quite different and it took me a little while to figure it out.
But it needs some backstory. I was at South by Southwest Interactive this weekend. It is an incredible conference, with lots of smart people and interesting talks, and quite famous for its parties. The SXSW film festival is on at the same time so Austin is packed and there is more than plenty of stuff to do.
I was on a panel with the awesome Nick Finck and Michael Angeles, called ‘Wireframes for the Wicked‘. It was fun to work with them and according to twitter our session went pretty well. Lots of people appreciated that we left half of the time for audience questions and that we actually tracked questions asked via twitter (#wickedwire) and answered them at the time and alongside questions from the floor.
Immediately following our talk was one by Bruce Sterling. His SXSW rants are famous (his SXSW party at his home also used to be famous), and I’m a big fan of his writing, so this was absolutely mandatory for me. I didn’t realise it would be so hilarious. Via a few wandering twists and turns, he spoke about change. It was a serious topic, and delivered seriously in some sections, but right in the middle he had a Bruce party right there, with crisps and beer and awesome cookies. His delivery is amazing and his timing is just perfect - he had the audience roaring with laughter (or was that just me).
With that over, I grabbed my buddy Dan Willis and we went out to dinner. Dan always makes me laugh - I’m still wondering just how mad he really is. But that doesn’t matter because we really can spend a lot of time just talking and laughing.
With the film festival on, we could get into first-showings and Dan suggested we go see ‘Observe and Report‘. I love going to movies without knowing anything about them and that certainly was the case here - I hadn’t heard of the film, the director, the actors and had no idea what it would be about. The lack of expectations can make for an amazing experience and that certainly was the case. This was one of the funniest (and weirdest, and with incredible timing) movies I have seen in a long time. I don’t usually laugh out loud in a theatre but I was laughing and hooting and clapping and so was the rest of the audience. I also don’t usually talk about movies straight after, but Dan and I were laughing and cracking the best lines all the way to the next part of the evening - the Blue Flavor party.
When the bar closed and we were all pushed out the door, as happens every morning at 2am in Austin, Dan, myself, Matt Balara and Ola hung around for another hour or so just shooting the crap, talking about everything and nothing and laughing a lot.
So can you pick up the thread here and know why I woke up feeling strange. I spent about 10 hours straight laughing. Laughing in Bruce Sterling’s talk, laughing with Dan, laughing at the movie, standing ’round on the street laughing with friends.
And I still have a big ball of laughter glowing inside me. It feels incredible and amazing and wonderful and I can’t wait to do it some more…
I usually tweak my bio now and then, but with my card sorting book coming out soon (yes, really - March) I want to have a better look at it - after all, it will be on the printed version forever.
It made me think about the point of a bio and what you really want to learn from it. Mine at the moment sort of tries to tell a bit about my experience, a bit about my personal approach and some of what I want people to know so I can do more of it (i.e. teaching!)
But is that what you want to know when you read someone’s bio? How important are these:
Ah, this is all too hard. And I teach people how to write. Now while I wait for your comments to pour in, I think I’ll go take some of my own advice.
And if you’d like to tell me about your favourite bio (of someone else), that would be fantastic!
I’ve been annoying my friends by hinting at a secret project underway. Sorry guys, but I’m glad I’m finally able to tell you.
The big secret is that we (me, Andrew Boyd, Steve & Danielle Baty) have been doing the initial planning for a user experience conference, to be held in late August in Canberra (Australia).
I think it goes without saying that I’m really excited. I’m excited to be involved in conference planning again, and excited to be able to arrange a conference for my community.
One of the things I’m happiest about is that it will be a proposal-based community conference (ie one where anyone can submit a proposal, and the community reviews to help select the program). Don’t get me wrong, I love conferences with professional, high profile speakers; but I also love the homey feeling of a community conference where you get to contribute to who presents what.
The other thing that we are going to be doing, and this will get started later in the year, is running workshops. I haven’t been able to run my own workshops as often as I’d like in Australia, so hope to do that more. And we’ll be inviting other folks to teach practical full-day workshops. If there’s someone you’d like to see, or a topic you’d like to see covered, let me know and we’ll see what we can do.
Anyway, that’s the news. I hope you’re almost as excited as I am!
For me, the next few months are full of conferences and workshops. My calendar is so packed I don’t know where the work will fit. You can catch me at:
I hope I see you at one or more of these.
And remember, I can teach any of these workshops in-house to your team (see my list of IA, interaction design, usability & content workshops).
The User Interface Resource Centre have published an article I wrote for them called What, Where, How: Designing and selecting components for user interfaces.
The article is about how to make sure your components will be usable and easy to learn. It covers some fundamental cognitive principles and their implications for component selection.
Yesterday I attended what I think will be my last conference presentation for the year. And it was a doozy.
I’ve sat through at least 100 conference presentations this year. Some were awesome, some were awful and most were pretty good. But the awesome and awful ones stick with me - when a topic is not of interest to me or is about something I already know, I pay more attention to the presentation style, looking at what works and what doesn’t.
So I’ve compiled my ten tips for presenters. These represent the things that great presenters do well and bad presenters just butcher. Of course, I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve made some of these mistakes, but I’m trying to do silly things less often.
In the worst presentation of the year, the speaker got up in front of 500 people and said “I have too much material, so I’m going to go through this quite fast”. Immediate FAIL. Then, 10 minutes before the end he said “I’m almost out of time, I’ll just go a bit quicker through the last points”.
Conference organisers are usually quite clear about how much time you have allocated. If they are paying your airfare, accommodation and a speaker’s fee, not tailoring your presentation to the timeslot is just rude, and doesn’t help you or the audience.
The best presenters know how much time they have to work with, tailor their presentation to fit the time and then keep an eye on the time. One of the best I saw this year was Jeff Veen at Web Directions - with technical problems at the start he lost 15 minutes and still came in almost on time.
And if you are running out of time, stop. Jump past a couple of slides if you need to make one last point. Otherwise you are saying “I’m more important than you, you can wait until I’m finished”.
A common behaviour for bad presenters is to run right up to, or over, time, then ask ‘any questions’ (in a rushed voice too of course). No-one asks questions, and the speaker thinks they’ve done a great job.
Great presenters run 10 minutes before time, ask ‘any questions’ and get a ton of hands.
This, believe it or not, has nothing to do with the material. It has everything to do with feeling permitted to ask questions. If there is obviously no time for questions (especially right before lunch or coffee break), the person who asks one is holding up the room. We are polite folks and we know how to play the game - we don’t want to hold up everyone just to ask a personal question. But when there is plenty of time, we feel like we are allowed to, so we do.
And questions are a good thing. They give you a chance to elaborate on something that wasn’t clear, or cover the topic that everyone wants to know but you forgot to include. They help the audience feel like you are approachable and a peer.
I attended many presentations that were well-spoken and well timed but never actually made a point.
Yesterday’s presentation was a perfect example. I spent most of it wondering what the speaker’s point was, and finally concluded that he didn’t know what his point was either. Talks like this waffle all over the place and never get anywhere. And listeners walk away feeling stupid.
If you aren’t sure of your point, do the ‘Why, who cares, so what‘ test. Think about what you’re actually trying to convey, think about why someone needs to know it, why they would care about it, and what the consequences are. This is a simple trick that really helps you think about what you should be communicating.
The first time you give a talk, especially if you are using slides someone else has prepared, rehearse it.
Really. Yes, I really mean it.
Rehearsing helps because you hear yourself say the words. You can hear your jokes (I think my jokes are hilarious until I say them out loud), practice stories and figure out the pace. Then when you have to perform for real, your brain doesn’t have to figure it out from scratch.
You can rehearse in your bedroom - it feels odd, but works. Or ask a couple of friends to listen to you. Our local IA cocktail hour has been the rehearsal ground for a few people this year, and we are happy to do it.
This tip came to me via the very awesome Dan Willis. We were sitting together watching someone who is super-smart and always has really insightful things to say. And Dan said ‘if only he’d stop self-talking, he’d be perfect’.
Self-talking is all the little things speakers say when they are simultaneously trying to deliver a talk and thinking about themselves doing it. Comments about technology, ‘oops, there’s a spelling mistake’, ‘oh, there’s an extra slide’, ‘what does that point mean’. They can subtly undermine your credibility and make you look inexperienced.
Of all the tips I’ve ever learned, this one has been the most helpful to me personally.
The two worst speakers of the year made the mistake of not understanding the audience. But the reason they were the worst went further - they also assumed that the audience didn’t know anything and needed educating. Guess what - audiences can actually pick up on it when you think of them like this.
Before speaking to a group, find out what they already know and where they are up to with your topic. If you think you might need to explain some fundamental concepts, don’t talk down to people. Just say you are going to quickly go over some background so some key points later on make sense.
But really, the trick to this is to genuinely care about your audience. No matter how hard you try, if you think they are beneath you, they’ll pick it up.
Another difference between great presentations and mediocre is the presenter’s knowledge of their material. A great presenter not only knows what points they are making, but knows why those things are important and what they mean. They can answer a question on the fly, or elaborate on a point as needed.
You might be caught having to give a presentation on a topic that you don’t know thoroughly, or use a presentation someone else has written. If this happens, rehearse it a couple of times, think about each of the points, why they are important and what they mean. Do some background reading, discuss it with colleagues and think up a story for each of the main points. This will increase your understanding of the material and your confidence.
Humans don’t learn by listening to strings of facts. We learn from stories and examples.
One of the best things you can do in a presentation is to tell stories. Make a point, then put it into a real situation. It may be something you’ve experienced, something a colleague has, or your opinion about an issue. Your listeners will understand your point better, and you’ll sound more credible. Win-win.
I tell stories in all my presentations. Sometimes I even completely ignore what is on a slide and just tell a story. The thing I have to be most careful with is that I don’t tell a story twice in one session - how embarrassing would that be!
Inverted pyramid is a style of writing where you present the most important facts first, then elaborate on them, then elaborate further. The urban myth is that it developed with the introduction of the telegraph and the need to get the facts through before the connection was lost.
Whatever the history, get your point across, and then build up on it. Your audience can then make a decision about whether to listen to you or do something else (think about sex, read twitter, write nasty things about you on twitter). If you build up to your point essay style, chances are you’ll lose part of the audience part way through and they’ll never get the point you are so carefully working up to.
If you’ve been attending presentations for a few years like I have, you’ll have noticed that bullet points have almost dissappeared. The current style, at least amongst the user experience and web folks, is gorgeous imagery and a small amount of text.
Some of the worst presentations I saw this year went so too far with imagery - I kept getting distracted trying to figure out how the image and the speaker’s point related, and ended up missing the point entirely.
Don’t be terrified of text and bullet points. They are OK when:
But if you are going to use bullet points, make them communicate your point. Don’t use them as a memory trigger for what you want to say - that’s what speaker notes are for.
So, if you don’t want me sitting in the third row twittering about how terrible you are:
If you’d like to improve your presentations, my two favourite resources/books are:
Note: I’m going to polish this later, but wanted to get the basics down quickly.
We know that we should do user research for projects. All the user-centred design material says so, we talk about it at conferences, we put it in proposals. We just know that it is a good thing to do.
But when I talk to people about their actual projects, I find that very few people actually do user research. There are many many reasons (no time, no money, already know what users need etc etc etc).
I think that part of the reason it doesn’t happen is also that we don’t have good tools to tell us just how much research to do, and even when it isn’t necessary at all to do research.
In preparing for my Edge of the Web talk, I spent time thinking about that issue, reflecting on some of the projects I’ve worked on in the past and thinking about the factors that led me to push to do research, or to go ahead without.
The factors I came up with are:
Given each of these is a continuum, we can do this:
And then we can think about our projects, and plot where we fall on the dimensions…
I was in a meeting recently to talk through a new website project - discussing the stages of the project. I was suggesting my normal approach - understand the project goals, do some user research, analyse content, draft the IA etc etc.
As we were talking through the process, I noticed one of the senior managers was clearly unsettled. After we talked a bit about the early steps, he finally said “Why do we need to do this? Why can’t we just come up with the IA. After all, it’s not rocket science”.
He, as a senior manager, had a fairly good idea of the domain. So he had a fairly clear idea of how it would best be represented on the website. His ideas weren’t bad at all, but I didn’t know if they were ‘right’. After a bit of discussion we agreed to make some quick changes based on his ideas, but reserved the right to change it when we had collected some information.
But it did make me think. Why do I think there is some complexity to creating a good IA for a website, when to others it appears simple? (I’ve noticed that people generally think their own field or expertise is complex, and assume that other fields are straightforward - I think that is just human.)
I don’t really think IA is as hard as rocket science. But I do think there are some hard parts:
But it is achievable. I think part of the trick to helping people understand that there is complexity is to better explain the pathway and rationale for decisions - show how inputs contributed to outputs, how we’ve balanced priorities. Not just show the end result…
I’ve just been away for a week at two of my favourite conferences - OzIA and Web Directions.But this post isn’t quite about that…
I read some of the feedback from OzIA on the weekend. And one comment stuck out and worried me a bit. The comment was along the lines that my talk seemed silly (which I can deal with) and cliquey (which worries me).
Now I know that a couple of times I mentioned folks in the audience by name. I know that I know a decent proportion of the crowd. And there definitely is a group of IA folks in both Canberra and Sydney who see each other regularly, hang out together, eat together and even do non-IA stuff together.
But it worries me that it may be seen as a clique. Something that has an in-crowd and an out-crowd. I worry that it might look like there is an in-crowd that doesn’t want to involve other people, because that’s just not the case.
Those of us who do hang out together do so partly because we have gotten involved in something. We’ve been to conferences together, attended IA meet-ups together and volunteered together. We’ve discussed the future of IA and what it all means over drinks. That crowd has built up over time and changes over time. There is no membership and no secret handshake. It is just a bunch of folks with a shared interest.
So, please. If it looks to you like there is an IA clique that you are not involved in, just get involved. Here’s how:
We aren’t an exclusive clique and we really do love getting to know other people who do IA.
Yes, another slightly ranty story just like the Peugeot rant…
I had a goal for today: To buy an iPhone from vodafone. I’m in Sydney with some spare time between conferences and I wanted to walk into a store, buy an iPhone and walk out.
I’m with Vodafone already for my mobile phone and have been quite happy with them.
So they were the obvious choice.Before I went in, I wanted to have a quick check of pricing and check that stores in Sydney had stock. I think that’s a pretty reasonable information-seeking goal…
So I started at the home page. Apart from a lot of stuff competing for my attention, it was easy to find the little iPhone link. And it is first in the list, so I assume it is somewhat important to them:
Cool, there’s a link called ‘pricing’ - just what I need:
So, remember, I clicked on ‘pricing’ (from the iPhone page). Where is the iPhone pricing?
(the URL still read ‘iphone.vodafone.com.au so I was in the right place)
So I go back, and this time click on the ‘buy’ navigation item.
And here’s what I get:
I have exhausted all options. I’ve clicked on the completely obvious, clearly-labelled links. I cannot find out how much an iPhone is, nor can I buy one from vodafone.
Look, this is not a hard problem to solve by any stretch of the imagination. Information architects, web designers know that the destination of a link should match what the user expects to see. It is easy to keep an eye on this - the website is small enough that someone should have spotted it. This is just a silly failure.
But this silly failure just cost them a long term customer. I cannot buy the thing I intended to spend a lot of money on. Done. Customer loyalty only extends so far.
Just to show how easy this problem is, look at the first two screens I saw on virgin:
So guess where I’m headed soon…
Just announced: Student rates for Oz-IA. Full conference rates are only $198 and workshop rate is $77. That’s fantastic pricing and a great incentive to help students attend!
Workshops:
Presentations:
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