2016 resolution: Live like an internet self-help guru. Keep an inexhaustibly positive outlook on life, tongue-in-cheek platitudes and all.
To whom am I referring? Think of someone like Lil B, the alarmingly prolific rapper whose army of fans will leap to his (or his cat’s) defense no matter how many uninitiated haters miss the joke and call his music sloppy. This is a man who will show up to a nationally televised interview wearing a blouse and sun hat. Why? Why… not? He doesn’t take anything too seriously—his haters, his clothing, his music—but as a result he’s built a loyal following who clamor for his every word. (Fun fact—Lil B once personally told me he loved me in a Twitter DM. That really happened.)
Similarly, there’s Tai Lopez, the YouTube-famous, Lamborghini-driving bibliophile. How did Tai make all his money? Does he have any money? I’m still unsure. But when I look beyond the guy who peddles “67 Steps” to success and claims to read entire books in ten minutes, I see someone genuinely fired up about a life of self-improvement. Multiple Lamborghinis and Hollywood Hills mansion or not, that’s something to aspire to.
Even the final meme of 2015 himself, DJ Khaled, is an unlikely source of inspiration. I’m skeptical that the keys to success could truly be something as simple as washing with exclusively Dove soap or adorning one’s bed with seven pillows (minimum), but certainly there’s nothing harmful about drawing inspiration from someone so unceasingly success-minded.
Both online and off, these people draw devoted followers. Their claims might be grandiose, but they come across as optimistic rather than narcissistic. Goofy, self-aware uber-positivity as a guiding philosophy—it won’t be easy, but I think I’ve found a worthy goal for the year.
One of the benefits of living in a university town is that conferences come to you. Just this week there were not one but two usability conferences in the building literally across the street from where I live. Here are my tweets from one of them – the first (annual, hopefully) Making Learning Accessible conference at Michigan State University.
I don’t plan on going to graduate school immediately after earning my bachelor’s, but I still often find myself reading about the universities whose programs I’m considering. When one of these schools tweeted a video of the full introductory lecture of their “Information Architecture” course, I wasted no time bookmarking it for later. It’s long (three hours if you combine both parts), but what I’ve seen so far has answered a couple long-standing questions I’ve had about IA. And – as any good lecture should – it’s led me to a couple more.
The biggest question is, of course, “What is Information Architecture?” (I must admit I’m a bit relieved that even at the graduate level this is still a question that’s being asked.) The lecturer, Dan Klyn, offered a definition that’s a bit of an improvement over the usual “information architects are the guys who design the wireframes.” Klyn said (in what are apparently someone else’s words),
“Information Architecture is about the structural integrity of meaning across contexts.”
How can a message be communicated not only through the information itself but also through the way it’s organized? Information architecture, as I understand it, is about structuring meta-meaning around content.
The definition of IA was further explored in an exchange that happened later on in the lecture. A student in the audience asked something about how content strategy fits in with IA (I think – it’s hard to hear anyone other than the lecturer in the recording).
Klyn responded by saying that, in his mind, IA and content strategy are one and the same. That was the first time I’d heard such a comparison. Are they really equal? One prominent (female) content strategist, according Klyn, sort of agrees. She says, “content strategy is just information architecture for chicks.”
Well… that’s not the sort of thing I expected to hear. And not something that Klyn is onboard with, for more than one reason.
But let’s put aside that (admittedly unconfirmed) definition for another day. Does all of this mean that content strategy is, in turn, also “about the structural integrity of meaning across contexts”?
Well, I’ve got a lecture to finish watching.
The best advice I ever encountered for overcoming writer’s block is to simply lower one’s standards.
I should clarify that this lowering of standards should be thought of as temporary. There’s no reason to ever stare frozen at a blank page, debating how to begin. Just write – something, anything. It doesn’t need to be good or even halfway presentable. It doesn’t have to be spelled correctly or arranged coherently. What matters is getting words on the screen, getting the ideas flowing.
I consider it much easier to edit something that’s already been written than write something new from scratch. It’s this principle that I exploit when I write my stream-of-conciousness rough drafts. With every sentence (sometimes keystroke) I cringe, thinking that the words I’m producing are garbage – that if anyone were to discover this verbal eyesore, they’d revoke my writer credentials.
But after my furious scribble sessions are over, I look back and realize oh, maybe I wasn’t so bad. And, as I have many times before, I realize that I’ve underestimated myself. I think, “I’m my own worst critic,” and gain a bit of confidence back, only to think of that one Onion article about the guy who is deluded enough to think he’s his own worst critic. The cycle of self-doubt begins anew.
But hey, I just finished my first blog post on this site, right? That’s something.