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My name is David. Or Mr. Pants, if your prefer.

I create rockin' illustration for your unique situation.

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Category Archives: How to Work with Designers

Ask a Designer and you shall receive. Just don’t ask weekly.

A while back I mentioned starting a series of calls specifically for small business owners who need help with their design projects. I also mentioned that I would host them on a weekly basis.

I am also certifiably insane. Weekly? Was I serious? Seriously serious?

Let’s just say that with my current client load and internal projects, a weekly call was quite ambitious.

So I switched it to monthly and we’ll pretend this never happened, okay? Thanks.

I have to tell you, the first call was fantastic. Not only did Rachael and I answer very specific questions about ebook formatting and drop shadows, we managed to liven the place up by discussing mullets. It was everything I had hoped for and then some. Although we only had a small group of listeners, we played it like it was Wembley Stadium. I’m pretty sure Sting and Bob Geldof were on the call, too. Sorry you missed it. If you missed it, that is. If so, you can still download the 45-minute audio for only $9. If you’re on the call, you listen free. That’s all the math I can handle today.

The next call will be in September. It’s my fortune to be surrounded by talented professional designers who are smarter than I am. So in September I’ll be bringing Tzaddi Gordon, maven of kick-ass websites on board. We’ll talk about… well… we’ll talk about…

Oh. Right. You need to send in your questions.

If you’re already signed up to get the call info, just reply to any of the emails you get and ask your question. If you’re not signed up (it’s free), you’ll miss the wisdom. So sign up. I’ll hear you there.

Drop Shadows: the mullet of modern design

Remember this guy?

How about this guy?

I know you remember this guy.

What do they all have in common? They sported a mullet at one time or another. Now they don’t.

Why did mullets fall out of fashion? You might as well ponder the extinction of the zoot suit. I mean, those things were badass. Even Tom wore one. If I had an excuse to wear a zoot suit for just one occasion, I would. If I wasn’t bald, I would totally grow a mullet just for kicks.

But these would be novelties, worn for the sake of getting a reaction. If I wore a mullet as my regular hairstyle, I would have to be prepared for people filing me in a certain category whether I like it or not. It’s just how people work.

And it’s the same category-filing that occurs when a viewer comes to a web site and sees Comic Sans or heavy drop shadows. In an instant, any genius content is entangled in a mullet. The design looks dated, so before one word is read (if any), the content is filed and pre-judged as dated.

Drop Shadow Kills Image: News at 9

Is there some kind of Design Rule about using drop shadows? Hmm. There are lots of opinions, yes. As for some sort of legislation working its way through Congress, I could not find any.

So how do I know drop shadows are bad? Who am I to say? Am I the Drop Shadow Police?

Listen, go ahead. Use drop shadows. Make ‘em extra dark. Spread that shadow blur out so your image magically floats upon your web site and viewers are totally baffled by your briliance. How did he get his blog title to float in front of my screen like that? That’s amazing. It’s like I can just reach out and grab – OW!

Way back before the reverse mullet, I was Grand Lord of Drop Shadow. My Geocities site was festooned with floating buttons and headlines. My friends envied my drop shadow prowess.

Then something changed. Ross kissed Rachel and drop shadows suddenly became passé.

I can tell you that on the day I write this, in the Year of Our Lord 2010, using heavy drop shadows is seen as amateur. They look out of date. Mulletish. We can rail against the system, we can hang on to the party in the back, but these things happen.

We hate fads! We hate non-fads!

It’s not fair, I know. I hate it when the mass of society decides what’s hip and what’s mullet. My red Vans aren’t stylish (this year) yet I wear them regardless. So what’s the difference here?

It’s really about deciding what image you’re going to portray to the people who dig what you do. If those people appreciate All Things 90s and identify with you and your business in that way, then go ahead. Rock the mullet – er, drop shadow.

But if you want to look like you’re growing a business in this decade, drop the shadow. Unless you’re being ironic.

I’m a big advocate of designing stuff yourself when you need to. I think it’s awesome that you know how to use the drop shadow feature in Photoshop. Just remember that knowing how and knowing when can be the difference between rocking your own blog header and killing the first impression of your site.

Hey, these design rules can be confusing and at times contradictory. In ten years, people will wonder how anyone could think this was hot.

Psst! I am on your side. If you’re struggling with your own design, I’ll help you out. Ask anything you want and get non-judgmental yet amusing help.

What if you could ask a designer anything?

Can I use Microsoft Word to create my ebook? How?

How do you get those bookmarky things to work in your PDFs?

Should I buy Photoshop to make my blog header?

What do I need to draw my napkin doodles in the computer?

Why are designers so snarky about PowerPoint? I use PowerPoint, does that mean there’s something wrong with me?

You know what’s the most fun part of my job? Sure, there’s the whole illustrating narwhals spearing unicorns thing. I love that part. One of my favorites.

My other favorite is answering questions. I get a lot of them in my email and on Twitter. Sometimes I can get super distracted because I’m an answer geek. I love researching solutions. Thankfully I know a wee bit about design so I can answer some things without looking them up.

I love to do it. And I discovered something while tackling the email pile lately. Actually, a few things.

  • A lot of people like designing some stuff themselves. Even if they can afford to hire someone.
  • I know a lot more about PDFs than I thought I did.
  • When someone is doing it themselves, they don’t want to hear, “You should really hire someone for that.”
  • A lot of people just need one tiny piece to complete their learning curve.
  • I can write really long emails about PDFs.

Sometimes I’ll turn someone’s question into a blog post, but that doesn’t always work. It would just be me dragging a short answer out to 500 words. Still, I know that others would benefit from the answer, even a short one. So I decided it’s time to get all phone call-ey and host a series of free group calls.

I’ve joined a lot of group calls since I’ve been in business. I noticed that the more interesting ones aren’t “tele-seminars” or lecture calls, but some form of Q & A/discussions. So that’s what I’ll be hosting. I’ve called them… are you ready for the obvious… Ask a Designer! calls.

The calls are specifically for small business people who need help with one aspect of their design. Maybe it’s a web site banner, or formatting an ebook in Apple’s Pages with hyperlinks. Drawing a fish in Photoshop. Whatever – the questions aren’t mine, they’re yours. And they’ll be answered in plain language for non-designer people. No techno-jabber allowed without an explanation everyone can understand.

I’ll also be asking my designer friends to weigh in on a call now and then. If this sounds helpful or fun for you (like you’re hoping I’ll perform one of my 1,000 voices), I hope you’ll check it out. To get dates, times, and numbers, you need to make sure you’re signed up on my regular email list.

You can read more and sign up on the Ask a Designer! call page.

Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy. Of designing stuff, that is.

You hate what your designer created. Now what?

So you hire a designer. You pay a deposit and tell her what you want. Then you wait. You busy yourself with other work, but secretly you’re checking your email every ten minutes for a week, hoping to see something come through. Anticipay-yay-tion, it’s making me wait.

Finally! An email from your designer with an attachment. She said some stuff in the email but screw that – let’s look at this sucker first! C’mon, c’mon…open. open… OPEN!

Huh.

Hmmm.

Err… is that…?

Huh.

Well darn. That wasn’t quite what you were expecting. So. Now what?

But we did everything right! Didn’t we?

Very recently, I was helping a client create her brand-new-from-scratch logo for her brand-new-from-scratch business. She had been referred by another client of mine, so we were able to break the ice early on and jump into discussing what she needed. We hit it off pretty well in our initial conversation. We weren’t planning a joint family vacation to Bali, but we communicated well. We understood each other.

The best logos I create have a strong illustrative element to them. In this case, my client was looking for an image of a woman with her finger to her lips as if to say, “Shhh.. it’s a secret.” She told me a lot about what she wanted her business to be and what kind of customers she wanted to attract with her logo. We also talked about style and decided on a simple brush-stroke in black with just a hint of color.

With that, I was off to the races. After a few days researching and doodling in my sketchbook, I started creating the final art. I also spent a few hours in the “lab,” experimenting with a real brush and ink to see how those brush strokes might look when I made them in the computer.

When the actual design was done, I sent a PDF to my client and waited for her to admire the finely crafted art that would soon grace her screen.

A little less Stepford Wives, please.

As a designer, it’s good to have a thick skin. It’s also helpful to maintain a vast library of pop-culture references in your noodle. That way, when a client tells you the logo you sent is a little too “Stepford Wives,” you know what she means without resorting to Wikipedia.

For our purposes here, let’s just say that I missed the mark. It happens. Sometimes I create something a client loves on the first try. That’s pretty cool for both of us. Mostly, it’s a longer process: No. No. Kind of. Almost… Maybe if you tweak… Hey, looking good. Wow, I really like that. Can it be red? Awesome! I love it!

In this case, I nailed a few elements and had to rework more. Thankfully, I knew exactly what she meant and where I needed to go from there. My client was looking for something sexier, rougher… more aggressive. Check. We even shared a few jokes about the whole thing.

You suck! I quit!

There’s something hugely important to understand about this. After seeing my initial take on her logo, she didn’t see it as a failure. She didn’t fire me, or tell me “Nice try. I’ll find someone else.” And I didn’t send profuse apologies about making it suck. I didn’t put my tail between my legs and give up.

It’s because way back when we started, we decided we would be working on the project together. We clicked. Rather than see this project as an I-pay-you-make-it transaction, my client invested in our relationship. I invested myself in her business and making it look good.

I’ll have another round

The second version I created was spot on. She loved it. Then we got to talking. What if…? We talked about her customers some more. We decided to make some changes that would push the thing into another level of awesome.

This is also why I charge a flat rate. You get better results when creative decisions aren’t being directed by a clock.

At the end of the third round, we were done. We were both happy with the final logo and having worked together. Since then, I’ve checked in on her progress and she’s actually referred people to me. When she opens up shop, I’ll be sending business her way, too.

That’s how it’s supposed to work.

Except when it doesn’t work

The scenario I just described is fairly common. The design process can be a lot of give-and-take. So if you’ve hired someone based on the quality of their work or even a referral, have a little faith in the process. It can start out messy and end a masterpiece.

I make it all sound so easy, right? Faith. Trust. Pixie dust? You might be wondering:

How many rounds do I go through before I decide it’s never going to work?

I wish I could snap up a top ten list on this one. I don’t really want to, because there’s no formula to follow here. It’s a lot of intuition.

Ideally, you want to have a relationship with your designer that allows you to communicate what you need and what’s best for the project. That way, when what you see isn’t quite what you’d hoped for, it’s a discussion-starter rather than a relationship-ender.

Sometimes the communication isn’t happening. For whatever reason, you’re just not connecting. It doesn’t matter why. You could be ultra conservative and not appreciating a laid-back approach. Or vice versa. Maybe you’re having trouble articulating what you mean in a language the designer speaks.

When you’re there, you’ll feel it. And you’re justified in ending the contract and finding another designer. Even if the quality of the work is top-notch, you need to be heard and understood. Otherwise, you could wind up with a gorgeous design that’s totally wrong for your project. That’s why it pays to spend time finding a designer you really connect with.

Incidentally, this has happened to me… once in three years. Sometimes you go through all the “right” steps and still doesn’t work out. That’s life and business. You balance those out with the times it just worked like magic. You do the best you can.

Hey, wouldn’t it be great if there were guarantees on everything? Then again, that sounds like a recipe for boring.

Hey! If only there were a guide to all this working-with-designer-stuff

Next week, I’ll be making available a guide just for small business people who need help finding and working with designers.

It’s called Get Great Design. It will be a resource you’ll be able to access any time you need it from your desktop or mobile device. What the heck – I’ll make a print version available, too.

This guide is created to save you tons of time and money on design. In fact, it will be required reading for new clients – that’s how important the information is. I might lose a few projects, but I’ll still be helping people get the right thing for them, which is way more important for both of us. Plus, some designers are gonna hate me for giving out a few secrets about working with us. That’s cool. I’ve got my life preserver on so I can rock the boat a little.

I’m going to offer the digital version of the guide at the ridiculously low price of $9. $27

As soon as it’s live, you can get the guide here. You can also sign up on my advance notice list below. So you’ll be among the first to hear when the guide is live. You’ll also be invited to an exclusive, invitation-only, free private call where you can ask me anything you want about working with a designer. Really.

Sign up now

Update 07-18-10: The list is now closed to the public. Future discounts on guide-related workshops and teleclasses are available for people who purchase it. Do that here.

Is your presentation making the audience lose trust in you?

Now go out and get yourself some big black frames
With the glass so dark they won’t even know your name
And the choice is up to you cause they come in two classes:
Rhinestone shades or cheap sunglasses

- ZZ Top, Cheap Sunglasses

I have the worst luck with sunglasses.

No matter how cautious I set out to be, they always end up:

  • sat upon
  • scratched by my car keys
  • pulled in two directions by a toddler
  • swimming in a non-fresh toilet bowl

In high school I had a friend who always bought the most expensive sunglasses he could find. I think he had a revolving account at the Sunglass Hut. After months of gazing upon his shiny black shades of wonder, I splurged on a pair myself. I forked over my entire paycheck (because who needs car insurance?) and got a slick pair of Ray Bans.

Less than a week later I left them at a Taco Bell. I kicked myself for years (and still do, but it’s more about my sad choices in food).

That day I lost a high-ticket item but I gained a new principle: Never spend over $10 for a pair of sunglasses.

In fact, I’ve spent only $1.00 each for my last two pairs. UV-coated, hipster styling. Of course, even when they’re cheap they need to actually protect my eyes from macular degeneration. And they should look reasonably fashionable (no hand-clapper attachments or dolphin shaped arms, thanks). It is possible to find sunglasses that meet my needs without considering the additional purchase of safety cords or velvet-lined cases. Now I greet the sun protected and stress-free.

Yesterday I dropped my cheapo shades onto the floor of a coffee shop bathroom. They were unscathed (and the floor was dry), but had they become bent, scratched, or… wet, I would have chucked them without losing any sleep.

My friend and I have different lifestyles and different priorities. He buys the Acer laptop from Costco and spends as much on eyewear. I splurge on expensive computer gadgetry and crow about my dollar sunglasses. Yay us.

Is there a Presentation Hut at the mall?

If presentations were sunglasses, here’s how the two classes would break down:

The Dollar Store Presentation

This is the DIY solution. This is the one you hack out on the plane on your way to the conference because you’ve been so frickin’ busy with other things (translation: you procrastinated). You can still make this work. But you don’t want to look like you hacked it out on the plane.

For audience members, it’s not endearing when you joke about how crappy it all looks. It sounds like either you don’t have time for us little people or you just didn’t plan well. Now we trust you slightly less, and you haven’t even started on your message. Here are a few tips while you whistle in the dark (tray tables up, Ladies and Gentlemen. We are landing):

  • Don’t get fancy. Seriously. Simple is your friend.
  • Use one font. A serif or a sans serif, but stick with it. Do I even have to say don’t use Comic Sans? Don’t.
  • Solid color background. Something light paired with dark text for high contrast. The lights might be on and it will be harder to read. Gradients are super duper awesome! Don’t use them.
  • No animations. No transitions. Yes, I agree it’s fun to play with. Now stop using it.
  • Don’t use crappy photos or clip art. What’s crappy? Pixelated. Blurred. Microsoft. If you use photos, either don’t use a border or use the same border on each one. Consistency is your next best friend after simplicity.
  • If you have data charts, use the same color scheme in all of them. If you got them from someone else, at least give them all the same border.
  • Format each page the same way. Help people forget about the format so they focus on the message.

We notice. We care. We want to trust you as an expert – but not in designing presentations. So skip the impressive, fancy treatments. We just want to hear your message.

The Rhinestone-covered Ray Ban Presentation

This is hiring someone to design it for you. You have to pay for this, but then you don’t have to worry if you did all that other stuff right. Let someone else figure out what’s right for your content, because there’s more to crafting a great presentation than just picking colors and fonts. Hey. You can watch the inflight movie for a change.

The choice is up to you

Just as there’s a place in the world for both cheap sunglasses and fancy shades, there are situations best suited for both DIY and hiring a designer. A few examples:

  • Internal presentation to educate staff = DIY
  • Client presentation to sell your services = Hire designer
  • Small, free workshop with people who already trust you and “get” you = DIY
  • Big 2-day seminar where people paid big bucks to absorb your wisdom = Hire designer

Bottom line: you don’t want people commenting on your presentation (good or bad), you want them to comment on your message. You want them to trust your information.

Help us trust you. We really want to.

Are you overprepared to work with a designer?

©2010 Sparky FirepantsImagine walking into your favorite bakery. By the time you grope through the cloud of fragrant sweetness to reach the counter, you already know what you want to order:

YOU: I’d like some whole wheat flour, about a 1/2 cup of sugar, some non-hydrogenated oil, and a stick of margarine.

BAKER: Uhhh, okay. What’s this for?

YOU: Well, I’m headed to work. I’ve got this coffee and I need something yummy and easy to take with me to my morning meeting.

BAKER: How about one of these blueberry muffins? They’re fresh out of the oven.

YOU: Hmmm. I don’t know. Did you use 1/2 cup of sugar?

BAKER: Well, no. My recipe only calls for 1/4 cup and some agave. Do you have any allergies?

YOU: No, but I’ve always read you should use 1/2 cup of sugar. Isn’t that right? I’m so confused about all this.

BAKER: No worries. You want yummy? You like blueberries?

YOU: Yes!

BAKER: You want it easy to eat in a meeting?

YOU: Of course.

BAKER: Blueberry muffin. Here you go.

YOU: Wow. That’s exactly what I needed. How did you know?

Ordering design by ingredients

Often I work with very well-intentioned people who need some kind of illustration for their project, but they feel obligated to arrive at my proverbial doorstep with everything all figured out. They research fonts and PMS colors so they can show up with a list of ingredients. They want to look like they know what they’re doing.

What a lot of pressure that must be. And it’s so unnecessary.

I totally get this mindset. When something is wrong with my car, I want to figure it out first so I don’t look dumb when I take it to a mechanic. I don’t want to look another man in the eye and say, “It’s making this woop-woop-woop sound.” I want to show up looking like I know all about cars, so I say, “I’m pretty sure it needs a new timing belt. Volvos take the extra ribbed non-lubricated double-layered 217-L46.”

I can see it in the mechanic’s eyes. He’s thinking, Dude, just tell me what it’s doing and I’ll figure it out. Go get some free popcorn and have a seat. Watch some Jerry Springer and let me do my job.

When it turns out there was a piece of duct tape stuck to the front left tire, I get to look dumb anyway.

Aren’t you going to ask me what font I like?

When a client comes to me to get their ebook designed, I get really excited. I love to hear new ideas. I also love talking to the people who created them. It’s my form of entertainment (geek). Here are a few of the questions I ask to spur the discussion:

Who do you want to buy this ebook? Who’s your audience?

What’s the core message you want your readers to take with them?

Will they need to print it?

Some people are surprised when I don’t ask about stuff like what font they would like. Then, if I do ask about colors or styles, it’s to get an understanding of who they are, versus offering a catalog of choices. They wonder aloud, “Don’t you need to know this stuff before we start?”

Nope. In fact, I hope we don’t even cover it at all.

What I do hope is that a client shows up ready to talk about their product and their business. I want to hear where they shine. I want to understand why they’re an expert in their field and who benefits from their work. If they know a thing or two about color, that’s cool. Sure, I need dimensions. I need to know if it will be printed and how. But pre-selecting ingredients can actually muddy the creative process. What they end up hiring is a very expensive skilled laborer. They’ve invested large amounts of money to take on more work. Often, they’re disappointed with the results. Not to mention exhausted.

Do yourself a favor and let go

When you hire a designer for your next project, do yourself a huge favor. Don’t do the work for them. Show up with your project, know your audience, and be ready to talk about what you want to achieve. Leave the ingredients to the baker and relish that blueberry muffin.

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A while back I created a resource to help small business people work with any designer. It was a set of odd but relevant questions that actually helped bring amazing results when my clients used it. I took it off the shelf so I could expand it further and make it even more valuable. It’s called Before You Hire a Designer and I’m going to release it again this summer. You can read more about it here.

Is your product a hot rod? Because it kinda looks like a Geo Metro.

Close your eyes for a moment. Oh, wait. You’ll need to read. So keep them open, but pretend they’re closed.

Imagine you restore old cars. You’re the type who dons blue coveralls just to change your wiper blades. You smoke around open cans of gasoline, taunting the fumes. You keep a greasy socket wrench in your bra. If you even wear a bra, that is. Maybe you’re too tough for a bra. Or you’re a dude who likes to wear women’s undergarments under your coveralls. But let’s get back to the story.

Imagine you just built a hot rod with a super powerful engine. Rumble, rumble. Gun that engine. Go ahead, rev it up.  Nice.

You’ve spent hours timing that engine. You found only the best parts to assemble it. Special mail order from some old geezer outside of Detroit. Expensive, but worth it. I mean, listen to that thing. Hell yeah.

Now step outside the car. Look at that dull, chipped paint and those worn-out tires. That needs fixin’. So you polish it up, apply a few careful dabs of your kid’s tempura paints and call it done. Will anyone even notice? I mean… listen to that power under the hood.

You take it to the car show (which is what coverall-wearing people do for fun). Before anyone gets to hear that turbo-charged rumble, they stroll right on by thinking, “Who let in the riff-raff?”

So you jump behind the wheel and crank that sucker over. rrrrRRRRROAR! Rumble rumble. By the time it revs up, they’re already over by the Batmobile.

On the flip side, let’s talk about the Batmobile. People gather around to soak up the legend behind this jet-powered rocket car they used to see on TV. Sooner or later, they’ll find out it’s only slick black paint and shiny chrome. Wait. Is that a Volkswagen engine? Then they feel bamboozled. They want what they saw on TV.

Hey. That’s kinda like a product.

Is it unfair that people judge your content before they even read your turbo-charged words? Yes, it’s unfair. So unfair. My coverall-covered butt is clenched in outrage over the unfairness.

Okay. So you can make them pay attention with your Batmobile reputation. If you’re Danielle LaPorte, for example, you can create a fantastic product and design it yourself. Even if it has chipped paint (and her stuff does not), people will see potential value in your product before you open the hood simply by virtue of you having rocked their world before. From what I’ve read, Danielle’s engine is turbo-charged. So no problem there.

But what if you’re just a weekend garage monkey with no rep? What do you do about your paint job – er, your package?

Your biggest priority is to turbo-charge that engine. Remember the Batmobile. Ironic, but most people I work with designing their products make the mistake of underestimating how powerful their engine (message) is, not the other way around. So hone it, test, it, get feedback. Tweak it. Then close the hood and move on to the paint job.

You have two options:

  1. Do it yourself
  2. Hire someone to design it for you

DIY for the win

Danielle did it herself. But look around her web site and take notice of the fact that everything on her site is so simple and elegant. Design is subjective but you can always count on the fact that clarity and simplicity win every time.

So if you feel like you have no choice but to design everything yourself, err on the side of simple. This means:

  • Leave out the cartoon clipart (the design equivalent of naked chick mud flaps)
  • Don’t use special effects (like drop shadows)
  • When in doubt about background patterns and colors, leave it white.
  • Don’t combine more than two fonts. Better still, don’t try and figure out which ones compliment each other. Stick to one and you’ll be fine.

Take your hands off the wheel

What’s stopping you from hiring someone? What I hear from clients most often is the money. My fees are outrageous for some people. Money worries will put a wrench into the flywheel every time.

You need to decide what’s right for you. A few things to ponder that might help you decide:

Consider what you’ll get from your launch. Do you expect to make $11K on your product? That’s awesome. Go for it. If you’ve got an audience eagerly awaiting your product, you might be able to advance the cash to hire a pro, knowing you’ll get it back in spades. If you’re offering a free 5-page ebook to your email subscribers, you can save your money for the big $11K stuff.

Consider your time and sanity. Do you really want to learn InDesign? Pick fonts? Scour Google for answers on why Adobe Acrobat won’t make your hyperlinks clickable? Use your energy to build your turbo-charged engine and let Earl Sheib paint your car. Give yourself the space to think creative thoughts rather than technical ones.

Think about the hidden value in hiring someone. Ponder two projects I recently completed; World-Changing Writers Workshop and the LIft-Off Retreat. In working with both of those teams, I cared about what they were creating beyond the final invoice. Plus, I did some of my best work with them. So when the time came, I promoted the hell out of their stuff.

Even on the purely selfish side where I just wanted more people to see my art, they got the benefit of my emails, tweets, and connections with their people.

I don’t know if you can put a dollar value on that.

Meanwhile, back at the car show…

So while you’re crafting the engine of your genius product, think about what you’re going to deliver to your people. You’ll probably spend hours on your sales copy, explaining the benefits and outlining features. Think about what happens when someone identifies with your offer and clicks that “buy” button.

Picture their anticipation at receiving the final product.

Try to imagine what it will be like when they see that first page of your book. If you’re giving a presentation, what do you hope people will feel when they see that first slide come up?

Before you hit the car show, make sure you have something to show off inside and out. And take off those coveralls. Wait. Are you wearing pants under there?

Coming up with genius concepts without really trying

When someone hires me to create an illustration for them, they need the artwork produced, of course. Obviously.

I provide a service, much like an auto mechanic. You pays me you money, I fixa you car.

Like an auto mechanic, they hire me because sure, they could probably learn to tune up their car themselves, but they’ve got other things they’re interested in getting done. Searching Google for proper spark plug gapping is not high on the list of interests.

So I create the illustration for them because I already know and care about stuff like vector vs raster, or the best weight of Arches watercolor paper for a heavy background wash. I’ve also had years of training in solving difficult problems such as Is this too Muppety? and How much mauve is too much? (answer key: 1. Never 2. Any)

That’s the mechanical part.

The other, always more intense part is the idea. Clients often look to me to come up with the right image to represent their product or piece of writing.

Sometimes they’ll ask me in the first phone call, “What do you think?”

The truth is… sometimes I haven’t a clue. Nope. No clue. Empty noggin. The only thoughts buzzing around my prefrontal lobes are of chocolate or Van Halen.

Some ideas take time. Others arrive even before the client stops explaining their thing. It’s always freaky when that happens.

For me, they usually require an outside stimulus. Sitting in full lotus produces nothing but epiphanies about drinking tea, but going to a baseball game produces monster concepts, seemingly out of thin air.

Yeah, it’s weird.

If you’re a writer, you probably get that. Weirdo.

A long time ago I stopped worrying about coming up with an idea before a deadline. I know that if I don’t force anything, it will happen. Sometimes it’s minutes before a phone call, but the concepts arrive. Just like that guy who always manages to breeze through the jetway just before the flight attendant closes the door. No sweat.

Wanna know one of my idea-generating secrets? Don’t tell anyone, ok? Here you go:

I think of the trippiest, weirdest, most oddball solution ever. Even if it’s kind of impossible or stupid.

Then I let it go and make a sandwich or something.

Eventually, the crazy dream concept morphs into something that will make sense to other humans.

That’s about it.

No drugs, no hypnosis, no lotus. Sandwich. Baseball. Vacuum.

I’m sure there’s something else going on in my brain that I can’t name, and I guess that’s why people hire me to do it.

With practice, they could figure it out how to do it, too. Or, they could focus on their own genius thing, like tuning up that illustrator dude’s car.

Simplicity is more afraid of you than you are of it.

Have you ever played Pictionary? Does the phrase “Baby Fishmouth” mean anything to you? If you’re confused, Pictionary is a fun game that’s like charades except with drawing instead of gestures. The other team has to quickly guess what you’re saying from just your doodles. No speaking or text allowed.

People hate playing Pictionary with me. Imagine that.

It’s not for the reason you think. My drawings aren’t finely illustrated Rembrandt masterpieces. In fact, they’re pretty childlike and crude. If you play the game you’ll find that the most successful players are the ones who draw the simplest shapes. Quickly, with no regard for beauty. And it works.

Why people fear simplicity in design

People recognize the beauty of simplicity in their lives. Sometimes it’s in a simple black and white sign pointing the way toward the Queensbound N train. A simple black dress that can go to the coffee shop and the opera with the right accessories. A sign that tells you what you’re supposed to do no matter what language you speak:

We love this kind of simple design when we’re out in the world or browsing the internets. But when it comes to developing visuals for our own stuff, we start worrying that it’s “too simplistic.” Maybe it’s even (gasp) “too obvious.”

We like to think that our thing is more intelligent, more complex, more creative and involved than all the other stuff out there.

There’s nothing wrong with loving your content and feeling like it’s unique and special. In fact, I hope you do (bring it on). The thing is, when you’re developing a container (package, web site) or visuals (presentation, book cover, logo), you need to direct the focus to your content, not stop the flow to admire a complex design.

Do not fear simple

Simple is your friend. The job of a good book cover, logo, or icon is to be obvious. It’s purpose in life is to communicate the basic idea of your content in seconds. I mean that literally. You have a few seconds to make an impression on a viewer. Viewers don’t like to think, they want obvious.

This is why, when you do a search on stock image sites, you find a lot of the same kind of stuff. That’s a good thing. It means a lot of people have already figured out how to communicate an idea that you put into keywords. Why are you going to mess with that and make people work to decipher your “more creative visual solution?”

Great design is simple. Simple won’t make you look dumb. It will bring to light the intelligent material hidden behind it.

Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify. – Henry David Thoreau

A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five. – Groucho Marx

What to expect when you hire an artist: What are you trying to prove?

This is the third in a series of posts on what to expect when working with an artist. To see them all, check out this category.

The Design Proof

What is this proof thing? What are we proving here? Proof of… what? That the artist you hired actually worked on something this week – versus drinking coffee, smoking brown cigarettes, and planning revolutions?

A proof is simply a trial. It’s a test of the final art so it can be checked for errors. You may have seen one of these before if you’ve ever ordered business cards. It’s your chance to correct stuff like misspellings or grammar (“Hey. ‘Firepants’ is one word.”). You can also let the designer know that the background color isn’t right or your phone number is not 1-800-SPANK ME.

What you should do when you get a design proof

Take your time reviewing

There’s a tendency to open an email and look at the attachment before you even read the text. I know, you’re excited. That’s awesome.

After you do that (I’m not even gonna try and pretend you won’t), go back and take a few minutes to read the email. I almost always put notes in the email when I send a proof. It saves a lot of time and headaches for both me and my client. For example, I might make some bulleted notes like this:

  • The hair is green instead of brown. I think this sets off the tentacles nicely but doesn’t clash with the razor claw.
  • The background is white here, but I’ll send you a transparent version when we’re done.
  • The wheels are slightly different from the sketch, I included spokes to add some flair.

See? Not earth-shattering stuff, but things a client might freak out wonder about if they didn’t know beforehand. This way when we talk about the proof, we’ve already got some direction.

Now that you’ve read the email, go back and look at the proof. Unless you’re under a really tight deadline, take a day with your design. You don’t have to buy it ice cream and pretend to like Lady Gaga, just give yourself at least 12 hours before you respond. Even if you love it.

Look for stuff that needs fixing

At this stage, you should have already seen a rough layout or sketch of the artwork. So if the rough sketch was a cowboy boot and the design proof is a baby bottle, this is your chance to speak up. It’s possible the artist just sent the wrong file. It happens.

Um… Reminder Pants here. Did you check the email first? Maybe there’s a reason it’s a baby bottle.

Most people have no problem speaking up about obvious things like “wrong graphic.” However, one thing I encounter quite often with clients is a hesitancy to point out stuff they just don’t like.

In a way, this is great. It means that I’m working with a human being who has some sensitivity and appreciates the work that went into their design.

On the other hand, it’s not helpful at all.

You may be worried about hurting your designer’s feelings. If you’re worried at all, then you are definitely not anywhere near the top of the “never-work-with-this-client-again list.” We’ve heard worse. Personally, I was in the military, so there really isn’t anything you could say that I haven’t heard before (you could try, but you would fall short. Trust me).

That said, while you’re asserting yourself there’s still room for being polite. “I hate the way you formatted that text” may not go over as well as “The formatting of the text isn’t working for me. Can we adjust it?” It’s just common sense and common courtesy. Remember that you wanted to work with a nice human, so being a nice human goes a long way toward getting what you want.

Also keep in mind that although you may not understand why something looks the way it does, there could be a good explanation. A pro designer should be able to explain the “why” to any aspect of their design anyway. While it’s a good idea to point out the errors, remember that it’s an opportunity for a conversation. Think “discussion points” rather than “head ripping.”

Stuff that won’t help your budget (or win you karma points)

“Oops, I forgot to tell you.”

“Now that I see the final art, it gave me an idea for something completely different.”

“My boss says he doesn’t like that green. And he hates dogs.”

I’ve heard all of these (uhhh, you have a boss? And he has to approve this stuff?). Hey, I wouldn’t be in this business if I wasn’t prepared to deal with real, live people. But lucky you, you’re getting the inside scoop. I’m not going to pretend those things don’t create stress. Designers hate this kind of stuff. And we talk about it to each other all the time over alcoholic beverages and starchy foods.

Sure, we can charge you extra because you forgot. But it’s not always about the money.

A professional artist will research subjects, look at reference photos, and even dream about just the right configuration of zebra stripes for your thing. After all that time, if your boss’s 2-year old daughter wants leopard spots, it means all that creative energy was wasted.

That sounds kinda complainey, right? Maybe so. We’ll suck it up. But you’ll likely pay more than you budgeted for.

Moral of the story: If you’re going to change direction, do it in the conceptual phase.

I’ll have another round

Even if you only have a few reasonable changes (and we could kiss you for that), you should get another set of proofs. Review, rinse, repeat. If things are going well, it shouldn’t be long before…

I approve! Now what?

Well, that’s it. You’ll give a verbal or written sign-off (depends on the designer) and your final artwork will be prepared. If you’re getting a web site designed, hopefully you’ll soon type in your URL and see magic. If you’re getting a piece of artwork, you might expect some digital files in the mail or in an online folder (I prefer delivering files online. Save a… uhhh… what do we save when we don’t burn a DVD?).

If you had a great experience and you love the work, paying the invoice is awesome (not to mention expected). Also consider spreading the word about this fantastic person you just worked with. People love to get referred to someone you trust. It sure beats trolling the interwebs for an anonymous designer.

It works both ways. If the designer feels good about the results and loved working with you, they’ll probably shout about your thing so they can show it off. Think about that. A free, built-in promotion machine. Nice.

Before You Hire a Designer

I hope you enjoyed this series and learned what to expect when you work with a Graphic Designer, Illustrator, or Web Designer. I also created a resource for you to help you prepare for this whole design journey. It’s a short PDF that you can reference over and over again, and it’s totally free.

If it helps you or you think it will help a friend, please share it. You can get it right here.