🎭 Beslubbering beef-witted miscreants
Ep 22: Transcending your title, a better way to insult those who cross your path, and my sincere gratitude for your readership.
Weather like this makes me grateful for the opportunity for indoor workouts. I took this earlier last week at one of Finger Lakes Running Club’s Mithacal Milers workouts at Cornell’s Barton Hall. Now that multiple groups are in the space with students back on campus, the energy level has doubled. It’s great fun to run around in tight circles with friends when outdoor trails are not an option!
A Tip for the Modern Worker
Transcend your title. Let's say you're in charge of producing widgets. Day in, day out, that's what you do. But one day, you have an idea to improve the design of the widgets. You tell yourself, "You're a producer, not a designer." And your idea dies right there. Transcend your title and let it live. Share it with those who need to hear it. It may go nowhere, or it may result in an evolutionary change for you. You won't know unless you share.
This tip is one of 365 in my Handbook for the Modern Worker. I’m known for speaking up at work. 70-80% of the time, it’s directly about things in my purview as a user experience designer. The rest of the time it’s about peripheral concerns: close cousins of my primary work, or sometimes shoestring relatives. What I discover — or suggest as changes or improvements — when “transcending my title” either helps me or helps the organization in some way, and that’s all good stuff.
#365DayDraw
I drew this and wrote the accompanying annotation as part of my #365DayDraw project 7 years ago today.
But, is anyone listening?
We put ourselves out there every single day. Our personal brand is always on display whenever we have personal interactions or publish something on social media (or a Substack). But how much are others listening or reading? And if they are listening or reading, are they processing what you’re intending to communicate?
I drew this in response to what amounted to crickets when I published these drawings faithfully every day for a year. My inner critic told me I was not good enough. That I should stop. But I didn’t, because it was too important to me. And in the end, I had this fantastic project I could look back on and say, “Yeah, I did that.”
This Substack’s open rate hovers in the mid-50 percent, meaning that of the people I send it to, a little more than half open it every week. Notice I didn’t start with the opposite fact: that almost half of the recipients never open it. Because you know what? That doesn’t matter to me. When you subscribed, you put some trust in me. You thought Wanderfull looked good enough to raise your hand and say, “Yeah, he seems nice, I’ll read that.” And then when you do open and read (which 6 of ten of you do every week), you tell me again that you trust me. And that’s worth a lot.
You have my gratitude, week in and week out.
Commentary
You know what? You’re a dissembling half-faced canker-blossom. Oh wait, don’t go! That was just my Shakespeare Insulter at work.
Since 1996, the origin of this kit was listed as anonymous. It came to Chris Seidel on a piece of paper in the 90s with no attribution and they thought it would make a cool web page. In 2014, Lara M (?) found the originating author, an English teacher at Center Grove High School in Greenwood Indiana named Jerry Maguire. Fast-forward to April 2015, when I took a master class on Shakespearean speech from the great J. G. Hertzler. I have been intrigued by the bard's prose and insults ever since.
I built my Shakespeare Insulter in 2021 (another pandemic project!) and love how you can lock down some words as you continue building your perfect insulting phrase. Don’t just use any old insult next time the occasion calls for it: give this a try!
Miscellanea
🌲 I finished Richard Powers’ The Overstory this week. From the description: “The Overstory, winner of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize in Fiction, is a sweeping, impassioned work of activism and resistance that is also a stunning evocation of―and paean to―the natural world.” It’s truly a work of art. At 512 pages it’s not a weekend read — it took me several months to read it, actually — but it’s delightful at every turn. Highly recommend.
🛎️ I was amused on my business trip this week to be housed in room 404 of Le Meridien on Fifth Avenue in New York City. I shared on my Instagram story that despite my room assignment, I was able to locate it just fine. If you love web design, check out this collection of artful 404 (not found) pages.
📖 I’m continuing to shop Undo, my debut YA novel, around to literary agents. It’s a contemporary story intersecting solid friendships, romance, and tragedy. The one-liner: In the wake of a family tragedy in a rural Willamette Valley town, Corey finds a way to undo days at a time to get what he truly wants. Diligent querying is hard work, and I know that at some point, an acceptance will follow the string of rejections I’ve been enjoying. If you know any literary agents in your circles who would be open to a query, I would be eternally grateful for a referral! In the meantime, I’ll keep at it.