Acknowledgments

...AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT

...and the men of the U.S.S. Forrestal, without whose cooperation this film would never have been made.

—CONVENTIONAL MOVIE ACKNOWLEDGMENT

[Insert some variation of the “It takes a village” meme here.]

But it’s true. Not only couldn’t I have done this alone—I wouldn’t have wanted to. Again, I was fortunate enough to be able to round up the usual suspects who got me through the earlier editions and Rocket Surgery.

I have relied deeply on their kindness and their extraordinary goodwill in the face of my writing habits.

As usual, my peculiar relationship to time has made life difficult for everyone involved. (Have you ever heard the expression “If it weren’t for the last minute, I wouldn’t get anything done at all”?) Honestly, it’s just that someone keeps setting my clock ahead every time I’m not looking.

Thanks—and in most cases apologies—are due to

Elisabeth Bayle, who has been my interlocutor, sounding board, and friend for some years now, and—even though she doesn’t want to admit it—editor of this edition. If you’re ever going to write a book, my best advice is to find someone who’s smart, funny, and knows as much about the subject matter as you do, and then convince them to spend long hours listening, making great suggestions, and editing your work.

It’s not so much that this book wouldn’t have happened without her (although it wouldn’t). It’s that I wouldn’t have considered doing it unless I knew she’d be involved. My thanks also go out to Elliott for always renewing her spirits after another long day working with me had drained them.

Barbara Flanagan, copy editor and dear old friend. To paraphrase an old joke, “Barbara has never been wrong about a point of grammar in her life. Well, there was that one time when she thought she was wrong, but she wasn’t.” Before you write me about some error in usage, be aware that Barbara long ago beat you to it, and then said, “But it’s your voice. Your book. Your call.” That’s generosity of spirit.

Nancy Davis, editor-in-chief at Peachpit, who stepped away from that desk just far enough to be my consigliere and champion. She’s one of those rare people whose praise means about ten times as much as normal praise. I will deeply miss having an excuse to chat with her about her ornithology-lovin’ boys.

Nancy Ruenzel, Lisa Brazieal, Romney Lange, Mimi Heft, Aren Straiger, Glenn Bisignani, and all the other smart, nice, talented, hardworking people at Peachpit who have been so supportive (often while biting their tongues, I’m sure).

My reviewers—Caroline Jarrett and Whitney Quesenbery—who volunteered some of their precious time to keep me from appearing foolish. In another time, the right description for them would have been “fellow travelers.” We see eye to eye on many things, and I’m just shallow enough to enjoy the company of people who agree with me. To protect the innocent, however, I feel compelled to note that inclusion in this list does not imply agreement with everything in this book.

Randall Munroe for his generous attitude about reprinting his work, and for giving my son and me a lot to laugh about over the years at xkcd.com.¹

¹ If you don’t “get” some of them, there’s a cottage industry of sites that will explain them to you, in the same way that Rex Parker does with each day’s crossword puzzle in The New York Times.

Smart and funny colleagues like Ginny Redish, Randolph Bias, Carol Barnum, Jennifer McGinn, Nicole Burden, Heather O’Neill, Bruno Figuereido, and Luca Salvino.

People who contributed specific bits of their knowledge, like Hal Shubin, Joshua Porter, Wayne Pau, Jacqueline Ritacco, and the folks at the Bayard Institute in Copenhagen.

Lou Rosenfeld for moral support, good counsel, and for just being Lou.

Karen Whitehouse and Roger Black, the spiritual godmother and godfather of the book, who got me into this mess in the first place by giving me the opportunity to write the first edition 14 years ago.

The large community of usability professionals, who tend to be a very nice bunch of folks. Go to an annual UXPA conference and find out for yourself.

The friendly baristas at the Putterham Circle Starbucks, often the only people I see during the day other than my wife. (It’s not their fault that when corporate redesigned the place recently they decided that good lighting wasn’t something people really needed.)

My son, Harry, now finishing his degree at RPI, whose company I treasure more than he knows. I exhaust his patience regularly by asking him to explain to me just one more time the difference between a meme and a trope.

If anyone has a job opening for a Cognitive Science major with a minor in Game Design, I’ll be happy to pass it on.

And finally, Melanie, who has only one known failing: an inherited lack of superstition that leads her to say things like “Well, I haven’t had a cold all Winter.” Apart from that, I am, as I say so often, among the most fortunate of husbands.

If you’d like your life to be good, marry well.