Paris, je t’aime

I arrived in Paris this past Friday morning tired, cold, and rained on.

I had just gotten off the bus and was walking towards my hotel, luggage in tow, when I witnesses an accident between a small car and a man on a bicycle. In there, the dilemma: the man on the bicycle only spoke Spanish, while the man in the small car only spoke English. The local police officer who stopped to help didn’t speak a word of any language other than French.

So there I was — with my tired and cold English, my rusty French, and my broken Spanish — standing in the middle of the intersection, luggage in tow, surrounded by three men who could only speak to one another through me.

In the end, the police officer walked away satisfied that the situation was under control, the Englishman drove away after receiving a harsh warning, and the Spaniard rode away with just a small bruise on his left arm.

Leaving me alone to walk to my hotel, luggage in tow.

Welcome to Paris.

Jez Burrows was robbed. Also, Penguin cover art rocks.

I’m not only saying that Jez Burrows was robbed because Bronwyn (my hero) said it first. (Or because everyone else on the web seems to think so.)

I’m saying that Jez Burrows was robbed because this is one of the sexiest book covers I’ve seen all year:

That being said, this post is not about Jez Burrows or the fact that he was robbed. (After all, Jenna Jones’ submission was also great, as were most of the submissions that made the shortlist.) Instead, I want to congratulate Penguin for continuously pushing the envelope when it comes to cover design.

In my previous ruminations on book cover design, I gushed about Penguin’s Great Ideas series and the remarkable work they have done in fostering excellent cover art. The Great Ideas series and the Penguin Design Award are just two manifestations of the importance the publisher places on the design of their work.

What Penguin seems to understand more than many other publishers is that stories are not just told in the text of their books; cover art, typography, and even the shape and size of the published work are integral to enhancing the overall story.

Storytelling through design

A good storyteller doesn’t just tell you a tale. Instead, he or she creates an environment where you can be immersed, enraptured, and enthralled by the contents of the story. For a good storyteller, it’s not enough that you hear the story: you have to believe it, feel it, and live it.

As a publisher, Penguin Books is a phenomenal storyteller. They know that the power of the story is not in its content, but in its experience, and subsequently make all the right design choices to make that experience come alive.

You know all those predictions that say that the “book” as a format for consuming text is going to disappear? What they forget is that the book is not just a format for consuming text; instead, it is a physical artifact that serves as a reminder of a personal experience, a story lived. The book isn’t going to die anytime soon.

And I thank Penguin and their design team for helping to ensure the medium’s longevity.

On a total side note, the website for the Penguin Design Awards is gorgeous. Yet another example of great Penguin design.

How a ‘genius’ made my day

It’s story-telling time.

This tale took place some months ago, but I was inspired to share it with you all by a post Michael Sippey on his recent experience at an Apple Store Genius Bar.

Once upon a time…

…I was sitting on a table in front of the Apple Store Yorkdale, using the free wireless to catch up on a few emails and some work before I got on the subway to head downtown. Even though I know the staff don’t mind if people just stop by to use the free wi-fi, I’m always hesitant to log on without having bought anything.

Because of my hesitancy, you can imagine my apprehension when I was startled by an Apple “Genius” (I really think that Apple needs to rethink the ‘genius’ label. It just seems silly to me.) tapping me on my shoulder and staring at my Macbook. Instead of chiding me for using the wireless, he instead pointed to my computer and said,

“You’ve got some serious discoloration on your Macbook. Want me to change that for you?”

Three minutes later, he emerged with a new casing panel for my computer and replaced the old, discolored part for a shiny new white replacement. Once he had finished that, he asked me if I had any other problems with the Macbook. I told him about my declining battery life, and after running a quick diagnostic check, he pulled out a new battery and replaced my old one on the spot.

And we all lived happily ever after.

I quote this example when people ask me why I’m such a die-hard fan of Apple products. Sure, they may make products that look pretty and have remarkable user interfaces, but that “genius” that day showed me the core of the Apple philosophy: be proactive in engaging with your users and fix problems before they become problems.

You can definitely argue that Apple has failed to do that in certain cases, but on the whole, the focus on the customer — over and above what is expected from regular customer service — is what makes me such a fan of Jobs’ company.

So here’s a thank you to that “genius” that made my day.

The end.

For now.