Some observations after a typeface hunt

Tech Life

Choosing a typeface today is difficult, simply because one is spoilt for choice now more than ever. Among other things, in the past few days I’ve been busy choosing a couple of typefaces for two different purposes. All in all it was a fun ride in the labyrinthine world of quick brown foxes jumping over lazy dogs. In three occasions I had to declare ‘typeface overdose,’ take a step back, think again about what I was looking for, rest my eyes, and finally resume the hunt. There were moments when I had to remove my type nerd hat and wear the concerned-customer-with-a-tight-budget hat. Moments when I did a bit of role-playing, alternating between the guy who knows what’s behind type design, and the no-nonsense, layman client who’s looking for a Didot/Bodoni alternative and is utterly lost among the seemingly identical variants offered by numerous foundries.

This search process may make you chuckle, but if you’ve ever found yourself in a similar situation, you know things can get boring, repetitive and frustrating rather quickly. This game of switching perspectives turned out to be entertaining during my little typeface hunt, and also useful, I guess, because it got me thinking about a series of things perhaps worth sharing. Now, before I proceed with my scattered observations, I want to stress once again that I’ve accumulated enough experience over the years to understand the work and the process behind type design, and that maybe what I’m saying here has been already discussed ad nauseam in numerous typography forums and circles. But again, it’s also an exercise in different perspectives, so bear with me. I’m also not interested in making specific examples because these are general observations and singling out typefaces, designers and foundries would only be misleading.

Quality and pricing

The layman’s dilemma: This font, offered in its four basic styles (regular, italic, bold, bold italic) costs almost 600 euros. This other font, rather similar to that one, costs 20 euros per style, so a total of 80 euros for the four basic styles. Why this huge difference in price? The cheaper font doesn’t look of a lesser quality to me.

The type designer, the type enthusiast, the type nerd, et similia, are already rolling their eyes and pointing out subtle differences in the execution, in the number of glyphs the two fonts provide, in the number of alphabets they support, in OpenType features, in the licensing options and scope, and so on and so forth. One typeface could be a quick knock-off of a pre-existing specimen made by a team of typography students, the other may be the result of many years of work of a single designer who carefully digitised an 18th Century typeface previously available only in print, making by hand all the necessary corrections to adapt that typeface for display use. I could explain all this to the layman and I’m sure I would still get a baffled look in return. You know, just like when a wine connoisseur is explaining to you the difference in flavour and aftertaste of two different samples of red wine which taste absolutely the same to you.

For laypersons and people who are simply looking for some good typefaces for a project or for their small businesses (I’m not talking about medium and large companies here because usually they have enough resources for these things — meaning people hired to take care of typographic matters, and money to invest in such matters), the world of type can be confusing. I have helped people choose or make informed decisions about typefaces in the past, and I’ve noticed how they approach their search. They tend to apply to typefaces the same evaluation methods they use when shopping for other, more material goods; realise such methods don’t really work; and end up feeling a bit lost. When they shop for clothes and accessories like watches, bags, kitchen utensils, smartphones, computers, and so on, they usually associate high prices with two main reasons (which are not mutually exclusive):

  1. The product is of high quality
  2. The product comes from a popular brand, well known for manufacturing premium products

Sometimes people stumble on an expensive product, but they understand its price tag either because they can immediately appreciate the quality of the product (even when it comes from a company they don’t know), or because they recognise the manufacturer’s brand and they nod and say Of course these trainers cost 300 euros, they’re from Nike. And maybe those trainers aren’t really worth 300 euros but the well-known brand is synonymous with good quality and so that price tag is somewhat justified.

This approach, of course, doesn’t work in the type world largely because:

  • A typeface priced at 40 euros isn’t necessarily of a lesser quality than a typeface priced at 400. There’s an increasing amount of talented indie type foundries and designers producing amazing typefaces, both for print and the Web, at very reasonable prices.
  • While there are prestigious type foundries and type designers producing typefaces of stellar quality, most laypersons have never heard about them.
  • For a layman, assessing the quality of a typeface is not as immediate a process as, say, assessing the build quality of a watch or a smartphone. Some people have learnt to discard ugly free fonts, where the lack of quality is apparent, but once they move to ‘nice-looking fonts’, everything is a blur.

All these factors play a relevant part in the aforementioned layman’s dilemma, and the resulting feeling is that typeface prices are largely set arbitrarily, that certain foundries are simply out of their mind if they expect a single person (as opposed to a business or company) to purchase that typeface family of theirs, priced at 4,500 euros.

Communication

During my typeface hunt, I’ve visited a lot of websites of type foundries (small and large) and independent type designers, and while plenty of them are really well done, presenting typefaces in great visual detail and with luscious effects, I often had the feeling as if I were shopping for devices by only looking at data sheets. In this regard, the best sites I visited were generally those created by small operations and single designers, going the extra mile and trying to communicate something more than typeface characteristics, features, formats supported, licence options, complete lists of glyphs in grid view, and prices. 

They also provide information about how that particular typeface was born, the needs they want to fulfil by providing such typeface, best use cases, and so on. In other words, they are trying to speak to the prospective customer in a language he/she understands. They do not assume that all visitors coming to their site are type nerds or experts who already know what they’re looking for and already have the necessary expertise to appreciate the designer’s work, to instantly recognise the quality of the offering, therefore understanding why certain typefaces are more expensive than others. 

By contrast, I found big type foundries to lack such communication, in general, relying instead on their prestige and have that prestige ‘do the talking’, which might be understandable — you don’t enter a Cartier shop and act surprised at the insanely high prices of the jewellery on display, and Cartier’s salespersons expect you’re entering the shop because you know about the brand’s prestige and can afford to purchase its products, otherwise you would go elsewhere. But the fact is that not everybody is up to speed on the who’s who of typography and type design. What many prospective customers see are austere, nice-looking fonts with prices they can’t immediately justify. The informed customer may know he or she is visiting the website and perusing the catalogue of a famous type foundry with an impressive pedigree. The layperson may not realise this on the spot. 

Of course, when your typeface catalogue consists of hundreds of typefaces produced during decades of operation, it’s impossible to dedicate a lot of room for detailed information about each typeface. Also, many important type foundries may be already satisfied with their business and existing customers that don’t feel the need to be more communicative to sell their products. Still, having some more pages providing essential information to laypersons on how to choose typefaces, how to approach typography both offline and on the Web, how to recognise (and choose) quality products, etc., would only be beneficial to everybody. 

The world of typography and type design is amazing, and the more you know about it, the more amazing it gets. I still find places on the Web where, instead of useful advice and information, one gets a good dose of elitism in return. Certain type experts should drop the attitude and have a more educational approach with laypersons who manifest even a tiny bit of interest towards typography. Many complain about the generally mediocre conditions of typography on the Web, but the fact is that the Web is full of personal sites and blogs of people who don’t have a clue about what good typography is, and don’t have a clue as to how they could improve their bland or eye-straining websites, type-wise. There should be more initiatives like Matthew Butterick’s Practical Typography, which has become the first reference I tend to suggest when someone asks me for a good, handy starting point on typography.

The more informed the audience, the better choices they make, because they can appreciate type design, see typefaces in a whole different way, and better understand how to look for quality products when they need them.

Celebrating 30 years of the Mac

Tech Life

In case you didn’t notice, the Mac turns 30 today. Apple has created a fantastic mini-site to celebrate this milestone. I wanted to celebrate in my own way, going down memory lane with a bunch of photos of the Macs in my collection, the majority of which still work today. 

My first Macs

My first Mac wasn’t a Mac I owned, but a Mac I worked on while apprenticing in a small ad agency in 1989. It was a Macintosh SE FDHD (so called because it had a 1.44MB floppy drive and a hard drive, instead of two 800K floppy drives), with 4MB RAM and a 40MB hard drive. The other part of my first Mac workstation was a LaserWriter IINT printer connected to that Macintosh SE. I spent a lot of time working in Quark XPress 2.1. That’s how I got introduced to Desktop Publishing. 

My first personal Mac was a Macintosh Classic, with 4MB RAM and a 40MB hard drive, purchased second-hand in late 1990. I still have it, and it still works. A few years later I got my first Mac laptop — a PowerBook 150 (16MB RAM, 250MB hard drive), purchased second-hand in 1995 with an external 2x SCSI CD-ROM drive. It’s probably one of the most underrated Macs due to its limited expandability (it notably lacked an external ADB port and a video out port, and had only 1 serial port and a SCSI port), but I really liked its screen and it was a little workhorse overall. It also had one of the most reliable floppy drives I’ve ever seen on any Mac I’ve owned. It’s also one of the very few Macs I sold. On the one hand, I regret selling that particular Mac, on the other it helped me raise funds to purchase a PowerBook Duo 280c with an external 14-inch Apple Color Monitor and DuoDock II unit for a complete Duo workstation. The DuoDock broke down in 2005, sadly, but both the PowerBook Duo and the monitor still work today.

My Mac collection

At present, these are the Macs I own. An asterisk after the name means the unit is not currently working.

Desktops and towers:
  • Macintosh 128K *
  • Macintosh SE FDHD
  • Macintosh SE/30
  • Macintosh Classic
  • Macintosh Colour Classic
  • Macintosh LCII
  • Macintosh Performa 630CD
  • Macintosh Quadra 950
  • Power Macintosh 9500/132
  • Power Mac G4 Cube
Laptops:
  • PowerBook 100 *
  • PowerBook Duo 280c
  • PowerBook 5300ce
  • PowerBook G3/400 Lombard
  • iBook G3/300 blueberry
  • iBook G3/466 SE graphite (FireWire)
  • PowerBook G4/400 Titanium
  • PowerBook G4/500 Titanium
  • PowerBook G4 12″ Aluminium (1 GHz DVI)
  • PowerBook G4 17″ Aluminium (1.33 GHz)
  • MacBook Pro 15″ (Mid-2009, Core 2 Duo 2.66 GHz)
Newtons:
  • Original MessagePad
  • MessagePad 2000
  • MessagePad 2100
  • eMate 300
Other Macs I have owned:
  • PowerBook 150
  • Macintosh Quadra 700
  • iMac G3/350 blueberry

Memories in photos

Five compact Macs
My compact Macs — on top: Original Mac 128K. Middle row: Macintosh SE FDHD and Macintosh Classic. On the floor: Macintosh Colour Classic and Macintosh SE/30. Also visible: my blueberry iBook G3/300. This photo was taken on April 2010. Save for the 128K, which needs some repairs, all these Macs are still working. (See also this article on my System Folder blog.)

 

At the old flat
Photo taken at my old flat. This was my studio in October 2004. Zig-zagging from top to bottom you can see a Macintosh Colour Classic, the Duo workstation mentioned above, a Macintosh Quadra 950, a clamshell iBook G3/466 FireWire SE, a PowerBook G4 12″, a PowerBook 5300ce and a PowerBook Duo 280c. (See more photos from the old flat in Past setups, another article over at System Folder).

 

Mac SE30 and Colour Classic
Passing some data between a Macintosh SE/30 and a Colour Classic connected via serial cable.

 

PowerBook and Newtons
PowerBook 5300ce, Newton MessagePad 2100 (in a 2000 case) (top), Original Newton MessagePad (bottom).

 

PowerBooks and Newton
The PowerBook G4 Titanium (right) connects to the Internet and downloads software for the Newton. The PowerBook 5300 (left) connects to the TiBook via Ethernet and installs the Newton packages on the Original MessagePad (center) via serial cable.

 

iBook and eMate
Another Newton connection: the eMate 300 (left) connects to the iBook G3/466 (right), again via serial cable and a Keyspan Twin Serial Adapter.

 

DSCN4073
PowerBook Duo 280c.

 

DSCN4101
Power Mac G4 Cube connected to a 22″ acrylic Apple Cinema Display.

 

DSCN4244
My studio in April 2010. Visible from left to right: PowerBook G4 12″, PowerBook Titanium G4/500, Power Mac G4 Cube connected to the Apple Cinema Display, and a MacBook Pro (mid-2009) connected to a 20″ Belinea display.

 

DSCN4507s
This was a fun thing I did one afternoon: connecting my iBook G3/466 to my 42″ Sony TV using the Apple A/V Cable I got when I purchased the iBook in 2002.

 

IMG 5780
Left: Macintosh SE FDHD connected to a Maxoptix SCSI Magneto-optical drive; right: PowerBook Duo 280c.

 

IMG 5783
Left: PowerBook Titanium G4/400; right: PowerBook G4 17″ (1.33GHz).

 

17 and 12
Left: PowerBook G4 17″; right: PowerBook G4 12″.

 

IMG 2911
After a writing session on my PowerBook G3 Lombard at a Starbucks.

 

IMG 0720
iBook G3/300 and a borrowed copy of the seminal AppleDesign book.

 

DSCN0162
Detail of the original Mac 128K motherboard.

 

DSCN0163
The Motorola 68000 at 8 MHz of the original Mac 128K. (See other photos of my Original Mac 128K in this post over at System Folder).

 

DSCN0046
A detail of one of my AppleDesign Powered Speakers II, that were released in May 1994 in beige and black colour variants. They still work, still sound great, and are part of my main Mac setup. (See a beautiful gallery of the black speakers at Shrine of Apple).

 

DSCN1557
Left to right: Original Newton MessagePad, original Macintosh manual, Commodore VIC-20 Programmer’s Reference Guide.

 

DSCN3606
Left to right: PowerBook G4 Titanium, Mid-2009 MacBook Pro.

 

DSCN4117
iMac G3 Accessory Kit box: it contained the keyboard, mouse, power cable and documentation. Sadly, that iMac died in 2003, but I still own the box and all the accessories.

 IMG 3186

Another photo of one of my favourite Macs of all time, the Macintosh Colour Classic.

 

DSCN0116
My beloved iMac G3/350 blueberry, with matching Iomega Zip 100 drive and CD-RW burner.

 

iPod Mini
iPod mini 4GB (introduced in 2004).

 


 

If you want to see more photos of this kind, I have a couple of Mac-oriented Flickr photosets: On Macs and men and The setup.
On my System Folder blog I also collected a few Apple vintage Italian brochures (here and here) and other brochures from the 1990s. Enjoy.

Wearables: thinking aloud

Tech Life

The latest in smartwatch mockups is Todd Hamilton’s iWatch concept, which is very interesting, and it’s probably the first concept I’ve seen so far that could convince me — if it were a real product — to at least give it a try. What I really like about it is that it’s not an outrageous sci-fi concept, but something that follows Apple’s design style more closely than other visual ideas and mockups I’ve seen on the Web since the iWatch fever broke out.

The current problem with wearables

Both the products currently available and the various concepts that try to anticipate Apple’s take in this category have, in my opinion, one significant flaw: they lack mass appeal. As I hinted in my article Selective enthusiasm, written almost a year ago, current smartwatches and similar wearables are a bit like those calculator wristwatches from the 1980s: cool gadgets for geeks, boring and unstylish contraptions for most regular people. And the fundamental problem of the few stylish proposals I’ve seen so far is that, when you look past appearances, you’re left with a device of limited usefulness.

But the real underlying problem with wearables is, I think, an identity problem.

What should these devices do? Which functions should they have? Should they replace existing objects/devices — and why — or extend their functions — and how? These are very basic questions, I know, but I honestly wonder if manufacturers of current devices have seriously considered them in their rush of being the first to hit the market.

I’m trying to approach this from a user’s perspective — from a regular, down-to-earth user’s perspective, putting down my technology enthusiast’s hat for a moment. And I ask myself:

– Do I want a smartwatch?
Do I want a device on my wrist that essentially tells me the time and sends me a few notifications by connecting/pairing with my smartphone? I already have a nice wristwatch with a timeless design. It looks cool when I’m elegantly dressed and when I’m sporting more casual clothes. Alternatively: I have that great, expensive wristwatch I wear on special occasions where I must dress elegantly, and then I have my everyday cool inexpensive Swatch that’s perfect for my casual style. I have my smartphone, it’s always in my pocket no matter the occasion. Why would I need such smartwatch? It doesn’t do anything really new or interesting. It’s another fairly expensive device I have to care for. It’s too dependent on accessories that I already own and which already work great for me.

– Do I want a full smartphone replacement on a wrist?
Sorry, but I’m already spoiled by big smartphone screens, their user interface, their versatility. And how do I read stuff on this tiny screen? How do I write stuff on this device? And… it’s on my wrist, so one-hand interaction all the time while keeping the forearm at an angle. Any task that takes longer than a minute gets tiring very quickly. And how about battery life? Do I have to charge this thing every few hours? What’s the point? Where’s the convenience?

– Do I want some ‘health monitor/smartwatch/smart-thing’ hybrid?
Here’s the thing: I won’t deny that a wearable sensor that monitors heart rate, blood pressure, blood sugar levels, etc., has a certain usefulness. I also think that, unless you have specific health-related reasons to monitor yourself, having such a wearable monitor that gives you that kind of data in real time all the time only leads to unhealthy obsessions. During the day, blood pressure may rise, heart rate may accelerate or there might be episodes of temporary arrhythmia, and these things happen and they’re not uncommon and in most cases there’s nothing wrong with you. Normally, you don’t even notice. And if you notice that something feels really off, then that’s cause for concern and you don’t really need a wearable device to tell you that. 

Now think of having a device on your wrist that feeds you health-related data constantly. Sure, you certainly won’t spend your day looking at it (I hope), and all that ‘quantified self’ data may even be useful in the long run because you can detect patterns like your average blood pressure steadily increasing during the last month and stuff like that. But most of the time you’ll be obsessing with false alarms and data you can’t reliably read or trust without the help of a doctor (who can provide reasons, analysis, context). 

– Do I want a device that borrows some features from the smartphone and puts them in a more convenient solution I can wear on my arm and check more comfortably?
Maybe. We take our smartphones out of the pocket for simple and complex tasks. Simple tasks include: checking the time (even the date, sometimes), checking notifications, maybe taking a look at the weather for the next hours, reading a text message we received, listening to music, and so on. Complex tasks include: writing an email, searching for something on the Web, taking/editing/sharing a photo, handling appointments and reminders, taking notes, reading news/ebooks/feeds (I consider this a complex task in the sense that it needs a certain screen size for reading and navigating the interface), playing a game, etc.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to perform the simpler tasks without having to take the smartphone out every time? That the wearable device could act as a sort of outsourced lock screen/notification centre? The immediate answer would be yes, of course. But consider some of the costs for such (positive but limited) benefit:

  • An additional device to carry around.
  • An additional expense.
  • Yet another device to care for (You have to recharge it, of course, but also protect it from all the accidents that usually happen with wristwatches and other accessories you have on you).
  • A device which is largely optional, a luxury, something that may be cool to have but not exactly compelling per se.

I don’t have solutions

It’s difficult for me to wrap up these observations by offering ideas as to what kind of wearable device should be manufactured or what kind of features this hypothetical wearable device should have for me to want to purchase it. I keep thinking that such a device needs some key technology that’s not fully developed or ready yet. The current offerings are unstylish, uninteresting and unimaginative devices, which appeal only to a niche target of enthusiasts and technophiles.

The challenge to build the ‘right’ wearable is both design- and engineering-related. Certain ideal characteristics seem to interfere with one another: for example, to be comfortable and practical, it should be a small device; but a small device can’t have a too complex UI and retain a good degree of usability (think of Apple’s 6th-generation iPod nano, with its tiny screen and its terrible touch interface — you could do more things on it than on the iPod shuffle, but the more complex UI really suffered from a usability standpoint; while the iPod shuffle has a better, easier-to-use interface, but also simpler). 

Another ideal characteristic could be a long-lasting battery, but again, it’s still hard to produce a small device with great battery life (I’m counting on Apple for this). And another ideal feature could be a Siri-like interface with vocal commands, but such technology still has slow reaction times and intermittent reliability. And so on.

And once the inherent design and engineering challenges are overcome, there’s still the problem of mass appeal. What can this hypothetical wearable device do to make people want to get it as an effective smartphone companion? What can it do or have to make people interested in carrying it with them — on them — all the time, well past the initial novelty rush? It’s the classic “I’ll know it when I see it” situation. 

I’m willing to bet that if Apple decides to enter the market of wearable devices, it will be with a very simple, streamlined device that doesn’t want to solve many problems at once or have a Swiss-army-knife approach, crammed with features for features’ sake. I’m thinking something like the original iPod, disarmingly simple and effective, doing one thing well and kind of uniquely. And once it becomes a commercial hit, expand its features little by little, iteration after iteration.

Anyway, as the title of this piece goes, I’m just thinking aloud about the whole matter and there’s probably something I’m missing. As always, feel free to reach me via email, Twitter, App.Net with ideas and suggestions.

The struggle to overcome what appears as ineffectiveness

Et Cetera

There are two relatively old pieces I keep linking to in the Read Me First section of my home page: Ten years gone and Doing what you love is not enough. I keep them there because I’d really like people to read them, especially those people who land on my site via search engines or by following a link on social networks like Twitter and App.Net and never heard about me before.

I have been writing poetry and fiction since the late 1980s, I’ve been a tech writer roughly since 1998, I’ve been writing online since 2001 and keeping a tech-oriented blog since 2005. I have written all this time both in Italian and English, with periods when one language was more prominent than the other. So, as you can see, I’m not exactly new at this.

In Doing what you love is not enough, published in September 2011, I wrote:

Plainly put, and without taking into account many other things that interest me and I enjoy doing, what I love is writing. Writing here, about technology, design, usability and environs; but most of all I love writing poetry and fiction. Over the years I’ve accumulated a lot of material, mostly in Italian but also in English (especially my recent production). A large part of my œuvre is unpublished, but especially during the 1990s I performed a fair amount of readings and my pieces were powerful enough to attract a small, faithful audience. I submitted some writings to the criticism of a few literature professors at the university I attended, and the general consensus was that I was a promising author (the most direct comment I received was You’re on the right track). So, by combining all these elements, plus the few things I have actually published, plus the fact that I’ve been writing ‘seriously’ since 1987, plus the fact that I am my hardest, strictest critic — well, I feel I have earned the right to call myself a Writer.

I want to stress this point because what I’m trying to say here is that I’m not calling myself a writer just because I keep some blogs and publish posts every now and then. I’m not calling myself a writer in an empty, self-appointed way. Over the years, the selected works I have shared with others — and I mean sharing in the way that predates online social networks — have received very positive criticism and feedback. I’ve had the pleasure of knowing friends who did the right thing when I gave them my writings and asked for their opinion: they never told me what I wanted to hear. They were perceptive and sincere, and always told me what they felt was wrong about my short stories, prose projects or novellas; not just what they had enjoyed. This helped me enormously, made me work harder and harder, revisiting my works, applying corrections and revisions, dismantling and analysing my style, rhythm, choice of words as meticulously as possible. I don’t take writing — creative writing and tech-related writing — lightly and carelessly.

In Ten years gone, published in March 2011, I wrote:

And what about that bitter taste I was mentioning before? Simply put – my biggest frustration is that despite my experience as a writer, despite my expertise in the various matters I usually write about here and in other places, most of what I do remains obscure, not acknowledged, ignored. What’s particularly hurting is witnessing other tech pundits/writers achieving success in a relatively short timespan. Then I go and look at what they do, and discover that some of them write very little original content in their blogs. Most of the time they either link to other people’s stuff with a one-line comment, or just ‘reblog’ and rehash. It’s disheartening. I still haven’t grasped what’s the ingredient of certain successful blogs. On the surface, these people don’t seem to do anything special, nor they seem particularly insightful – they just seem to ‘organise things prettily’.

I know, I know this might sound as nothing more than a whining rant. I know you might think Aw, you’re just jealous, aren’t you? – but really, hold your judgment for a moment and put yourself in my shoes: after all this time and experience, sometimes it’s hard not to sit and wonder aloud: what the fuck am I doing wrong? It’s hard not to ask yourself: Is it the audience? Is it the culture? Is it the quality of what I write? I know it’s not the quality of my writing, because I have indeed received praise for it, both by Italian and English-speaking readers. Is it the fact that I don’t throw every article in other people’s face every time, all the time, as other tech writers seem to do? Is it the fact that I don’t nag my Twitter audience with tweets like “Look at what I’ve done, written, etc.”? In other words, is it because I’m not quite good at ‘selling’ my qualities? I so wish I knew. Meanwhile I’m left with the feeling that no matter what I do, it’s never enough. The feeling of never climbing the ladder, of never rising through the ranks. I know it takes time, dedication and patience. I don’t lack dedication or patience, but time seem to be passing away and nothing really happens.

During 2012 and 2013 I’ve been busy writing here, doing translation work, and giving new life to my creative side by launching a demanding project like Minigrooves, a collection of short stories I started publishing online (twice a week) and whose first cycle I gathered and published as an ebook in the iBookstore.

I’ve been busy consolidating my ‘personal brand’, to use a popular buzzphrase. I’ve been working hard, I have been trying to promote what I do in a way that hopefully hasn’t alienated other people, I have been rather active socially, I have tried to achieve some prominence. Not out of narcissism, vanity or because I woke up one morning and just felt I’m entitled to it. I simply believe that after years of hard work, of personal struggles, of ‘keeping at it’, of not cutting myself much slack; after years of sowing there should be some reaping.

And yet, and yet, more than two years have passed since I wrote the aforementioned articles, and again at times I feel I’m going nowhere. I feel overwhelmed by what appears as ineffectiveness. I ask myself again what is it I’m doing wrong.

Feedback is little. People don’t seem to care (much). My attempts at attracting people’s attention towards this place, my projects and my fiction don’t seem to have long-lasting effects[1]. There’s the occasional spark. The occasional link. The fleeting endorsement. But readers don’t seem to stick, to return. Word of mouth is intermittent, too. By word of mouth I mean “Guys, I think this RM is worth following or is worth keeping in your feeds.” When I find articles worth mentioning, I usually repost/retweet/reblog them. When I find people who I believe are worth adding to my (and your) reading list, I mention them. When I recognise quality work made by other people — a book, an application, a project — I do my best to talk about it, to draw attention to it, to support the effort; at the very least I try to let them know in a way or another. And I do that in the most disinterested manner, it’s never a quid pro quo. I wish I were given the same treatment a bit more often. Is it too much to ask?

[Brief aside: At the same time I keep witnessing the same old story: prominent or rather well-known figures (in the tech sphere, but not only there) who can virtually try anything — a new online project, a book, a new venture — and it appears everyone’s cutting them a lot of slack, giving them plenty of support because, you know, they’re the ‘good guys.’

My auto mechanic is a ‘good guy’ too and he’s very good at what he does. But if he told me he has published a book, or plans to publish one and needs support, I would like to take a look at it before deciding whether to support him or not. And if somebody I already support (because I like what they do) started getting lazy, producing lower-quality stuff, I’d seriously consider stopping such support. We do that with companies when they screw up a product, a service, or both, or make a public-relations faux pas. Why are we so forgiving with people? This indulgence drives those prominent figures to self-indulgence and complacence, while every now and then I believe a little wake-up call is in order to push them again towards that quality they once displayed. End of aside]

Take this rant how you want. Feel free to think of me as a failed writer consumed with envy and having another temper tantrum about life’s unfairness. I only want you to understand my daily struggle, which I’m quite aware is not the most important struggle out there, but it really matters to me. I only want you to understand my frustration and where it comes from. 

And — I could really use your help and support. If you care about what I do, let me know. Most importantly, let others know. If you have suggestions on how to overcome this ineffectiveness, feel free to share your ideas, advice, criticism. If it’s constructive, it’s always welcome. I want to keep getting better at what I do. I want to keep creating things and telling stories other people can enjoy. 

 


 

  • 1. Take Minigrooves, for example. When I published my ebook last July, the news spread fast, and many people (thank you) helped spread it. But such amount of publicity, sadly, hasn’t translated into satisfactory sales numbers. So far, I basically sold a dozen copies of the book. (And I’m not disappointed because I’m not making money out of it, but because I genuinely think a lot of different people could really enjoy my stories.)

 

Permutation Racer

Briefly

From the blog of Big Robot, the developer of Sir, You Are Being Hunted:

In Permutation Racer you race against the clock to reach checkpoints, collecting stars (you can jump, don’t forget) and avoiding barriers or red spikes. Because it’s all mathematically generated, every track is different. This is just a prototype, so it’s very simple, but we think you’ll enjoy it.

Permutation Racer was created by Tom Betts. It’s a free download for Windows and Mac OS X. I’m enjoying it a lot (and the soundtrack is great). I hope you will too.