Systems, Mistakes, and the Sea An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com Every paper cut is felt The design systems between us
Thanks Doc An Article by Robin Rendle & Craig Mod www.robinrendle.com A couple of months back, Craig mentioned in a video that he has a doc filled to the brim with snippets of text—nice words, compliments, and thanks that had been sent his way for his work. Whenever someone says something nice he just copy/pastes it into that doc. It sounds silly at first and perhaps a little egotistical. Behold! I have a document that proves how great I am! But I started doing it just to see what it feels like and…hey…actually? It’s so great! When I’m feeling low (often) or whenever the world feels unstable (extremely often) it’s so very nice to return to a few kind words about my work. It reminds me just how much these words of praise mean, it reminds me that I ought to pass that favor along. Good Things happinessworkfriendship
An incoherent rant about design systems An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com No matter how fancy your Figma file is or how beautiful and lovingly well organized that Storybook documentation is; the front-end is always your source of truth. You can hate it as much as you like—all those weird buttons, variables, inaccessible form inputs—but that right there is your design system. ...being honest about this is the first step to fixing it. uxcode
Care for the Text An Article by Robin Rendle css-tricks.com Whenever I’m stuck pondering the question: "How do I make this website better?" I know the answer is always this: Care for the text. Without great writing, a website is harder to read, extremely difficult to navigate, and impossible to remember. Without great writing, it’s hardly a website at all. But it’s tough to remember this day in and day out—especially when it’s not our job to care about the text—yet each and every <p> tag and <button> element is an opportunity for great writing. It’s a moment to inject some humor or add a considerate note that helps people. …These are the details that make a good website great. detailstypographycontent
Re: Pointing at things An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com I think I’ve been darting around this question for a while now: ...I think we’ve all been taught to write in a style that forgets the reader entirely. My English degree taught me, incentivized me in fact, to write poorly with this sort of obfuscatory language, “nevertheless...”, “in this essay I will set out to...” etc. All that stuff is me pointing at me, pointing at a thing. But we should just get out of the way of the thing we’re pointing at! Pointing at things writing
Planning doesn't make for better software A Fragment by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com My own time in a Silicon Valley startup has proved this much to be true; planning doesn’t make for better software. In fact today our design systems team doesn’t have sprints, we don’t have tickets or a daily standup. Each day we come to work, figure out what’s the most important thing that we could be doing, and then we—gasp!—actually do it. Watching so many other teams slowly flail about whilst they plan for quarter 3.2 of subplan A, whilst our team produces more work in a week than they all do combined in a quarter has been shocking to me. After four years of working in a large startup, I know what I always assumed was true: you don’t need a plan to make a beautiful thing. You really don’t. In fact, there’s a point where overplanning can be a signal of inexperience and fear and bullshit. The scrum board and the sprints and the inane meetings each and every day are not how you build another Super Mario 64. Instead all you have to do is hire smart people, trust them to do their best work, and then get the hell out of their way. Why Software is Slow and Shitty planningsoftwareagile
Who the fuck is Guy Debord? An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com Long, unwieldy sentencesImagining her PsychogeographySuch tortuous syntax writingsimplicity
Every Website is an Essay An Article by Robin Rendle css-tricks.com "Every website that’s made me oooo and aaahhh lately has been of a special kind; they’re written and designed like essays. There’s an argument, a playfulness in the way that they’re not so much selling me something as they are trying to convince me of the thing. They use words and type and color in a way that makes me sit up and listen. And I think that framing our work in this way lets us web designers explore exciting new possibilities. Instead of throwing a big carousel on the page and being done with it, thinking about making a website like an essay encourages us to focus on the tough questions. We need an introduction, we need to provide evidence for our statements, we need a conclusion, etc. This way we don’t have to get so caught up in the same old patterns that we’ve tried again and again in our work. And by treating web design like an essay, we can be weird with the design. We can establish a distinct voice and make it sound like an honest-to-goodness human being wrote it, too." writingwwwessays
Re: How would I improve RSS? An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com I still believe in a Kindle/Analogue-esque device that, within it, contains an operating system that is half Patreon, half Substack, half Instapaper. I think of this as the Republic of Newsletters writ large—The OmniBlog—where writers can publish their work and folks can subscribe via RSS but with a Coil-esque payment system built in and preloaded onto a physical e-reader. Writers could blog away, connected to eachother, whilst readers could subscribe to their work and perhaps even fund larger pieces of writing... Shit, I just described Medium huh. How would I improve RSS? rssblogging
Several Short Sentences About Writing A Book by Verlyn Klinkenborg www.goodreads.com Here, in short, is what I want to tell you. Know what each sentence says, What it doesn't say, And what it implies. Of these, the hardest is knowing what each sentence actually says. Sonorisms VBoth models are completely uselessThe shape of the sentenceThe Anxiety of SequenceYou can get anywhere from anywhere+18 More Wittgenstein's MistressWrite SimplyThe most important thing you do writing
Sonorisms V Leave space between them for the things that words can't really say. To suggest more than the words seem to allow. Perhaps it renames the world. The Anxiety of Sequence. It was all change until the very last second. The debris of someone else's thinking. You'll never run out of noticings. Names that announce the whatness of the world. What were you trying to protect? You were protecting the memory. The tyranny of what exists. Do any of them sound first? It sets an echo in motion. Try writing for the reader in yourself. So call it "perfection enough". Toward the name of the world—yours to discover. euphony
Both models are completely useless In your head, you'll probably find two models for writing. One is the familiar model taught in high school and college—a matter of outlines and drafts and transitions and topic sentences and argument. The other model is its antithesis—the way poets and novelists are often thought to write. Words used to describe this second model include "genius", "inspiration", "flow", and "natural", sometimes even "organic". Both models are useless. I should qualify that sentence. Both models are completely useless. genius
The shape of the sentence You've been taught to overlook the character of the prose in front of you in order to get at its meaning. You overlook the shape of the sentence itself for the meaning it contains, Which means that while you were reading, All those millions of words passed by Without teaching you how to make sentences. meaningstructure
The Anxiety of Sequence Much of what's taught under the name of expository writing could be called "The Anxiety of Sequence." Its premise is this: To get where you're going, you have to begin in just the right place And take the proper path, Which depends on knowing where you plan to conclude. The Age of the Essay essays
You can get anywhere from anywhere And if you can get anywhere from anywhere, You can start anywhere And end anywhere. There is no single necessary order. progressending
Significant everywhere Writing isn't a conveyor belt bearing the reader to "the point" at the end of the piece, where the meaning will be revealed. Good writing is significant everywhere, Delightful everywhere. goodness
It was all change until the very last second Every work of literature is the result of thousands and thousands of decisions. Intricate, minute decisions—this word or that, here or where, now or later, again and again. It's the living tissue of a writer's choices, Not the fossil record of an ancient, inspired race. A concept of style decisionscraft
A renaming of the already named A true metaphor is a swift and violent twisting of language, A renaming of the already named. It's meant to expire in a sudden flash of light And to reveal—in that burst of illumination— A correspondence that must be literally accurate. metaphornames
The debris of someone else's thinking A cliché isn't just a familiar, overused saying. It's the debris of someone else's thinking. cliché
How each sentence got that way When the work is really complete, the writer knows how each sentence got that way. intent
This small internal quaver Pay attention now: No matter how much you know or learn about syntax, grammar, or rhetoric, This small internal quaver, this inner disturbance, Is the most useful evidence you'll ever get. Someday, you'll be able to articulate what causes it. But for now, what's important is to notice it. Noticing is always the goal. ...the faint vertigo caused by an ambiguity you can't quite detect. What matter is what it points to. Find out what's causing it and fix it Even if you're not sure how. Notes on the Synthesis of Form attention
The urge to be done "Flow" is often a synonym for ignorance and laziness. It's also a sign of haste, the urge to be done. productivity
Talking and writing Talking is natural. Writing is not. It may seem strange that the manual dexterity needed to hold a pencil—or use a keyboard—comes later than the lingual and mental dexterity needed to speak. But it does. speech
What were you trying to protect? As the piece evolves, you try to protect those original, effusive sentences. Only to realize, at last, that what you're writing won't come together until they've been removed or revised. What were you trying to protect? The memory of the excitement you felt when those words "came to you." (Where did they "come" from?) You were protecting the memory of the excitement of really concentrating, of paying close attention to your thoughts and, perhaps, your sentences, the excitement of feeling the galvanic link between language and thought. memory
The discoveries you make in the making Style is an expression of the interest you take in the making of every sentence. It emerges, almost without intent, from your engagement with each sentence. It's the discoveries you make in the making of the prose itself. Where ambiguity rules, there is no "style"—or anything else worth having. Pursue clarity instead. In the pursuit of clarity, style reveals itself. The idea grows as they workFour principlesExpressing ideas helps to form them styleclaritymaking
The virtue of already existing It can be overwhelming—the inertia of the paragraphs and pages you've already composed, the sentences you've already written, No matter how rough they are. Whether you love what you've written or not, Those sentences have the virtue of already existing, Which makes them better than sentences that don't exist. Or so it seems.
Composition and revision Revise at the point of composition. Compose at the point of revision. Think of composition and revision as the same thing. 104. Site Repair design
Squander your material Squander your material. Don't ration it, saving the best for last. You don't know what the best is. Or the last.
Do any of them sound first? Just try out some sentences. Lots of them. See how they sound. Do any of them sound first? You're holding an audition. Many sentences will try out. One gets the part.
When you're interested in what you're working on It's never hard to work when you're interested in what you're working on. But what if you hate what you're working on? It helps to examine the content of your loathing. What is it you hate? hatework
The work selects its audience Imagine a cellist playing one of Bach's solo suites. Does he consider his audience? (Did Bach, for that matter?) Does he play the suit differently to audiences Of different incomes and educations and social backgrounds? No. The work selects its audience.