CHAPTER 3

How to work with type and layout

It's not enough to focus only on how people perceive information. Having perceived, your audience members must understand. As Miles Tinker wrote in his 1963 book Legibility of Print, “reading without comprehension is not reading.”

To help your audience members understand, and to reflect and serve their needs, preferences, and abilities:

• develop useful content
  • present just what your readers need, not everything you've got
• write clearly
  • be consistent, precise, and concise
  • use language and reading level that are appropriate for your audience
  • present content in the order the readers need it
• design clearly: stick to an effective design style sheet for consistency and clarity
  • set easy-to-read type
  • create an easy-to-navigate layout that shows where to begin reading, in what order to read the text that follows, and where to end
  • plan space between and around elements consistently
  • use color as an information-design tool, not as decoration
  • choose, crop, place, and caption photos to tell a story
  • design, label, and caption diagrams clearly
• consider your audience's perspective, setting, context, needs, and abilities in your decisions (as you saw in the previous chapter), and test your project with your audience

This ad uses fuzzy type to make its point clearly, meaningfully, and memorably. But don't try it at home, or on any information-design materials for which unclear type fights both perception and understanding. That applies to most materials. © The Procter & Gamble Company. Used by permission.

“What's in it for me?” reader asks; answer quickly, the clock's ticking

What encourages viewers to read (right away or at all) is perceiving that they'll benefit from the material. Expect them to take mere seconds to decide. In those seconds, they'll register a first impression based largely on how long the material takes to announce its content. They'll decide whether they need it or care about it, and if they do, how much, compared with everything else they've got to read and do. They'll decide to either read it, defer the decision (tossing it on the reading stack for “later,” another way of saying “throw out in thirty days”), pass the buck, or trash it.

Comprehensible design supports rather than interferes with the content. It supports reading in at least three ways:

• It quickly delivers a preview of the contents to help viewers decide whether or not to read on (if it's voluntary).
• It helps readers get through the content with minimal time and effort and no confusion.
• It looks clear, as if it won't take much effort or time to read, so it encourages the decision to read.

That last one was confirmed by surveying readers of a sixteen-page monthly newsletter. “I read the newsletter cover to cover right away,” wrote many of the respondents. Big deal, you might say; it's only sixteen pages. But to these readers, who regularly reported being overworked, it was a big deal. They were amazed to be taking time to read anything during a workday, let alone sixteen pages of it. They read it all right away because the content addressed their needs, and the design and writing delivered it clearly. If instead the design or writing had interfered, the reader might have relegated the piece to the “later” stack.

Readers got right into and through the newsletter because it looked as if it wouldn't take up a lot of their time. And that's because it avoided common design and writing crimes against reading motivation, such as:

• unclear or inconsistent type
• disorderly layout
• lack of alignment
• lack of grouping
• too many elements
• too many styles of elements (rule weights or colors, for example)
• random amounts of space between elements
• poor contrast, including backgrounds that interfere with the foreground
• poor writing or useless content, which even the best typography and layout won't make up for

Clear design and clear writing, then, are the controllable comprehension factors you'll explore in this section. We'll start with the first.*

Use a design style sheet: Why and how

The design style sheet—a blueprint for your design and the elements within it—is your essential tool for consistency, whether you're working on just one item or a whole series. It sets the tone, establishes a system of codes, and gives clues to the content. It speeds readers through the information. Regular readers find the design familiar from previous encounters. New readers quickly get familiar with the design because it reinforces itself by being consistent. Most important, the style sheet keeps readers from being distracted by random changes.

In addition to creating familiarity, a thorough style sheet considers the needs and flow of the entire project. (It also saves time for the designer, who doesn't have to lay out each page from scratch.)

When you follow a style sheet, readers quickly get the idea. By the second page of, say, a Web site that uses a clear style sheet, readers know what kind of information they're looking at before they even read a word. They don't have to figure it out on every page; they know their way around.

The style sheet includes all the type elements that recur (headings, text, captions, callouts, and more), the kinds and sizes of artwork, and the grid (placement, size, and amount of columns and empty space). Elements that are the same should look the same everywhere they appear. That means you don't want to begin the text in one size and shrink it on another page because, as you saw in the chapter on perception, people expect changes in design to signal a change in meaning. If they notice the change, they'll wonder what it means. And what they might assume is that smaller text is less important than what came before, because people connect size to importance—they assume what's bigger is more important.

If the change in size doesn't translate to a change in meaning, you'll confuse readers, maybe even lose them. For example, even if readers aren't consciously aware that the text got smaller when they turned the page, suddenly reading probably started to feel like work. That's where a reader who isn't highly motivated will put the reading aside (if only to make an appointment with the eye doc).

Usually all a size change really means is that the designer had to fit more on the page. Running out of space or cramming in type with a shoehorn isn't the sort of meaning you want to convey, so choose a size that'll work across the project.

A consistent style sheet also imparts a sense of familiarity. Beyond the logo, the look of the grid, the layout, and the type help viewers recognize a Web site or publication when they come back to it. That sense of familiarity can even lead people to feel possessive about “their” publication.

Make things easy to find

The value of consistency extends to object placement. Regular readers look for the same items in the same place each time. Sometimes moved objects are merely annoying, such as when a newsletter's masthead turns up on a different page in every issue. But inconsistent placement also can lead to mistakes. For example, in at least one version of America Online e-mail windows, important buttons switch places. In the “Incoming/Saved Mail” and “Old Mail” windows, the delete-message button's on the right. But in the window where users can permanently delete mail, the delete button's on the left, and the read button's on the right. So customers used to deleting on the right and not paying close attention easily could open a letter they never meant to.

Sensible styles

More than being consistent, styles also have to make sense. Readers will get your style code more quickly, lastingly, and meaningfully if it matches readers’ expectations of how things should look:

Japan Airlines’ JAL Newsletter distributed only a print version until its 2002 switch to e-mail. As you can see, it adheres to a strong design style sheet in most cases (see the sidebar on pages 96 and 97). The headlines, initial cap, and text are consistent from story to story, so after the first story, the reader can tell the kind of info by its style.

Now notice the 18-point italic type blocks in the wide margin. The blocks look the same and run near articles. Without reading them (even if they reproduced big enough to read), what kind of info would you guess they are?

Doesn't the type look like pull quotes?* But readers who agree will look in vain for the margin type's appearance in text. The type chunks often are freestanding stories, unrelated to the text. The style confuses because it doesn't match readers’ expectation. There's another principle: Type styles must be consistent and give clues to the nature of the type based on what's familiar to readers.

More about type

The design of words usually has the strongest impact on a project's ability to look clear and easy to navigate. Although you can design work that informs without words, most information designs rely on them. So how you present those words becomes all-important. The presentation of words depends on—is—typography, the graphical display of words and one of the most important parts of any design style sheet.

Type can't be understood if it can't be read. That's not as obvious as it sounds. The quest for style, creativity, and peer awards often drives designers away from clarity, even when they know how to achieve it.

For your intended readers’ sakes, you'll make type clear, easy to read, and appropriate for the audience, message, and medium by carefully considering:

• size
• typeface
• line length (actually the width of the type line or column)
• style
• alignment
• spacing
• placement
• color

As you'll see, each of those variables affects the others, and your knowledge of your readers and your purpose should affect them all. For example, 9-point type, the recommended minimum for sustained reading, looks too big on most business cards. On the other hand, plenty of designers go to the small extreme with the type on their own business cards, putting even phone numbers and e-mail addresses in 6-point gray or debossed type.

Look at the italic type in the margin. Without reading it, guess what kind of info it is. (Here at least, the type is related to the story next to it, but in most issues, the same type that looks like a pull quote is really a freestanding story.) See the newletter's style sheet to the right. JAL Newsletter. Publisher: Japan Airlines International Co. Ltd.

How to set clear text type

Let's focus first on text type, also known as body type, which is a quantity of words meant for sustained reading. It's the meat of the article or the chapter—what isn't titles, enlarged quotations, captions, or other forms of display type. It's also the part that tends to carry the message, but that people are less inclined to read.

One way to encourage reading text is to make it—and make it look—easy to read. To make text look easy to read, make good decisions about the various factors that affect its appearance. The factors interact, so read all the guidelines before you use any to design type.

SIZE

A common, general guideline about text size for print and the Web is no smaller than 9-point and no bigger than 12-point. But that's a big range, so you usually can start by lopping off the bottom end.

In fact, you might start with 10-point and go up from there, depending on those just-mentioned variables that affect clarity. Also consider the medium (paper, computer screen, plastic, steel, glass, etc.), method of production, and quality.

For example, look at how you might change point size to serve the audience. Choose from the bigger end of the range or even beyond if the average age or the eyesight of the audience demands it. By age fifty, visual acuity begins to decline, according to the American Federation of the Blind (the Federation's Web site lets viewers customize its size and background colors).

Nonetheless, member publications from the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP) don't exaggerate text size, which is no more than 10½ point. But, says AARP art director Eric Seidman, the typefaces are highly legible. He uses Mercury for the main magazine and Pointer for the newsletter but plans a design overhaul that would include a custom-made typeface. As a newcomer to the organization, he says, he was reluctant to change typefaces because readers were familiar with them. Besides, he says, he doesn't need to boost text size because readers tend to correct for imperfect vision with eyeglasses.

This size guide (like one you can easily make on a computer to compare any type sizes and typefaces) shows the relative heights and lengths of consecutive sizes in the same typeface.

But bigger text makes sense for any audience of any age with more severe vision impairment. For such audiences, argues Lighthouse International's Aries Arditi in “Making Text Legible: Designing for People with Partial Sight,” use type as big as 16-to 18-point, which would be too big for most projects targeting audiences with at least average vision.

Also consider bigger-than-average type (and sans serif) with low-resolution printing, rubber stamping, or other legibility challenges, such as:

• reversed type (light on a dark background, also known as “dropped out” or “knocked out”)
• printing on (or reversing out of) a photo
• patterned, rough-textured, glossy, or highly absorbent printing surfaces
• slides, Web sites, and other media with backgrounds formed by light
• posters and other media designed to be read from farther away
• anything that could be faxed or photocopied

THE PROBLEM WITH STRONG BACKGROUNDS

Try to keep backgrounds a similar tone, advises John Grimwade, graphics art director at Condé Nast Traveler magazine. It's hard to read type over changing backgrounds. For example, monotonal type of any color will fade in and out of the changing contrast in the background. Varying the type color to keep up with the background doesn't work either because it looks contrived, choppy, and still hard to read.

Another way designers try to compensate for busy backgrounds is to put a solid panel between the photo and the type. But that won't work when what's outside the panels is more interesting than what's in them, Grimwade says. Another problem is that “you end up with a sort of patchwork-quilt look.” Even putting labels outside of the graphic can pose a problem if viewers have to search for them.

Reversed type is less legible for reading sections of body copy because the background can dominate and dilute the type. Even in these samples with only one word, you can see the type's shrinking potential. That's especially true in the serif version on the right because of its fine and varied-weight strokes.

If you stare at the photo, you might see a hint of these lines printed five times: “Type that prints on—or reverses out of—a photo gets stronger or weaker according to the contrast of the photo.”

Your readers should never have to work that hard to read, so avoid putting type—especially body type—on a photo.

HOW TO CHOOSE A TYPEFACE FOR TEXT

Designers who love typefaces and appreciate their subtle differences, or “personalities,” tend to spend a lot of effort on choosing typefaces. And there's no question that typeface choice goes a long way in setting a tone, creating an image, and establishing a brand, especially for a logo, a food package, or an album cover.

But (at the risk of being accused of blasphemy), to audience members who depend on the words for essential information, the typeface's “personality” is less important than its clarity and use. What's more, “picking a typeface is actually not as important as manipulating the spacing attributes of the typeface,” says typographer and designer Alex W. White. “Typography is 90 percent space management and only 10 percent letterform management.”

Typeface selection also might be less critical to comprehension (within reason) than other design elements. That's the finding of a 1972 study Paul Mijksenaar cites (Dirken, 1972). The participants of the study, by J. M. Dirken at Delft University, ranked eight design elements in this order of importance (from most important to least):

1. Order (in space)
2. Place (on a page)
3. Type size
4. Contrast (bold versus light)
5. Direction (roman versus italic)
6. Column width
7. Vertical spacing
8. Typeface

But Mijksenaar says he's noticed for years that “graphic designers work this list from the bottom up! They spend most of their time discussing typefaces, and never come to the top of the list.”

So (it might comfort you to know) you don't have to become an expert on typefaces and their nuances to set clear type. (See sidebar on the following page.) Nor do you have to know your way around tens of thousands of typefaces, and their subtle personality or historical differences. They're certainly fascinating topics for study, and exquisitely set typography is an art form. But for the kind of practical designs we're talking about, you probably don't need to be familiar with more than a handful of legible typefaces.*

If you do want to become a type expert, you might start by absorbing these books: Thinking in Type by Alex W. White, Elements of Typographic Style by Robert Bringhurst, and Stop Stealing Sheep and Find Out How Type Works by Erik Spiekermann and E. M. Ginger. (Embrace the Spiekermann book's teachings but not always its design, especially the sidebars of challenging red tiny type on almost every spread. You might also find yourself questioning type decisions in the exquisite Bringhurst book, along with design decisions made in this book. You're supposed to. Type and graphic designers, and information-design-book designers and authors live in glass houses.)

You do need to know what factors contribute to clarity enough to be able to recognize a clear typeface when you see one. For example, you should be able to distinguish among the major categories of type-faces as they contribute to clarity. You need to know about spacing, both within and between words, and between lines and paragraphs. And become aware of the overall tone of type to make sure your type choice not only doesn't contradict the message you want it to deliver but also reinforces it.

White's list for effective headline/text combinations includes those that share shape and width characteristics. For example, an oval shape in serif rounded lowercase letters (b, d, o, p, q) needs pairing with a similarly oval shape in a sans serif typeface. (See examples on page 105.)

Various typographers have named one or more of these typefaces among their recommended, versatile favorites, grouped by category (sans serif or serif). Exercise: Comparing each typeface with the others, list all the differences you find. Typographer: Alex W. White.

Good head/text combinations share shape and width (such as this Meta Plus Black above Century Expanded)…

… or x-height (such as this Frutiger 75 above Californian)…

… or just something right (Griffith Gothic Bold above Concorde).

Or match x-heights (the height of the lowercase x compared with the typeface's uppercase characters). X-height varies with the typeface and affects text legibility. Look at the x-height of any text face you consider, and consider it at least as important as point size. (As you'll see later in the chapter, x-height also affects the number of characters you can fit on a line.)

An x-height on the bigger side tends to add clarity, because of its open counters (the enclosed spaces in certain type characters, such as the lowercase e, a, and o, or the uppercase B, P, and R). Make sure they're open enough to keep them from filling in at the smallest sizes you'll need.

But x-heights can get too big, as Avant Garde demonstrates. Full circles make up most of its lowercase characters, so they take up as much width as height on a line. To get anywhere near an ideal number of characters on an average line, the text would need to drop more than a full point size.

The enormous interior space of Avant Garde's lowercase characters at any point size attracts the eye away from a more useful destination, the characters’ shapes. And the typeface's tiny strokes and extenders make it easy for readers to confuse characters. That's especially true of character pairs that need the extender to tell them apart, such as ad, nh, even bp and dq.

The typeface Avant Garde combines a huge x-height with full circles, which hinders the legibility of text and headlines. Eyes tend to get lost in its characters’ interiors …

… and sometimes even confuse characters.

X-height also affects the density on the page; as you'd expect, a big x-height usually looks denser. So consider adding one or more points of leading to avoid a page that looks cramped and daunting.

SERIF VERSUS SANS SERIF

For text, choose whichever category and face is clear and familiar to your audience and works for your purpose. (I usually use a legible serif for text on paper, and always a legible sans serif for the Web or slides.) Consider:

• direction. Serifs—the horizontal bars at the ends of the strokes of some typefaces—form a subtle yet sure reinforcement to the baseline, the imaginary horizontal line on which type sits. So they might help to lead the reader's eye in a horizontal direction instead of down and off the page.
• enforced letter space. Serifs come with a little extra space between characters to keep them from overlapping. They're more forgiving than sans serif, which needs more space—both between letters and between lines—“to help the eye traverse the horizontal line with equivalent smoothness,” White says. The extra space between lines keeps the eye from losing its place. And “with default settings (unthinkingly favored by nondesigners), serif types are a much safer bet for text.”
• usability (discussed in the previous chapter) in terms of audience familiarity and preference …

  … by geography: We tend to find it easier to read what we prefer than what we don't. And often we prefer what we find most familiar. For example, serif type is more familiar than sans serif in the United States, because it's usually what children learn to read here. But when in Rome (or Geneva), set type as the Europeans do—European audiences prefer sans serif, for the same reason.

  … by industry, age, attitude: Regardless of where your audience members learned to read, their professions might affect their preferences. For example, scientists, doctors, engineers, accountants, or Web programmers often prefer sans serif. Designers and audience members who prefer sans serif often point to its uncluttered and contemporary look compared to most serif faces. Sans serif typefaces tend to look newer than serif typefaces, because they are. They came along much later than serifs did.

  … by kind of info: Preferences change with the kind of material, not just with the person, according to Dynamics of Document Design by Karen Schriver. The author asked a group of sixty-seven people whether they preferred the serif or sans serif (or neither) version of an instruction manual, a business letter, a tax form, and a short story. More audience members favored sans serif type overall, particularly for the letter and the manual. But serifs captured the most votes for the story, and twice as many for the form. The letter and form serif victories lose some punch when you consider that as many people chose neither as either. So use the study to remind you to test your own choice.

• stroke weight and uniformity. What matters more to legibility than a letter's ending are the qualities of the strokes that make up the letter's body. Notice whether the curves and strokes (the spines of the letters) are a uniform weight throughout the letters, or whether they vary. Most serif text faces have those stroke variations (known as “thicks and thins”), which reinforce the identity of each character and its distinction from others. Those variations support legibility when conditions retain their subtleties, as with good-quality printing on high-quality paper.
• legibility challenges. Use sans serifs for their uniform weight when you have less-than-optimal reading conditions. Those might include small type sizes, diagrams, reversed type, poor printing, low-resolution or pixelated type, textured or dark paper, an inconsistent background such as a screen or photo, or a light-projecting background such as a slide or Web site. Delicate, curved serifs with strong variations between their thick and thin strokes can lose their power and seem to fade, while showing up just enough to clutter. If you want to use serifs in these cases, favor square-serif fonts that have more uniform strokes such as Boton, Clarendon, or Memphis, which hold their own in such conditions, unlike, say, Bodoni or Modern No. 20. But they're generally too strong for text, and those blocky serifs tend to call too much attention to themselves and the space between the letters. (See the sidebar on the following page.)

HOW TO DETERMINE LINE LENGTH

Your text should set a comfortable reading pace that supports comprehension because it fights fatigue. Too-wide columns of sustained text force the reader to work too hard to follow the path. They don't build in enough momentary reading pauses, and make it tough to stay on track and find the start of the next line. “A long line length absolutely defeats the reader, period,” says Burkey Belser of Greenfield Belser Ltd., a design firm in Washington, DC.

The opposite extreme is almost as bad. Long sections of narrow lines containing too few characters make the eye jump too quickly for comfort.

With a comfortable reading pace, readers are more likely to focus on content, not on what they could be doing besides reading. And you'll help to set that pace by counting characters in a line. What determines the number of characters in a line are type size, typeface, style, and column width (often called “line length”).

So what's a comfortable count? As with almost every other question that comes up in information design, the answer again is that it depends. In this case, what it depends on—in addition to the usual variables of audience, purpose, and medium—might be whose research you follow. Miles Tinker's early but seminal study caused him to recommend an average of 50 to 70 characters (including word spaces and punctuation points) per line. That's a workable guideline for books and manuals, although the top of the range is too many characters for some eyes and tastes.

For other projects, such as newsletters with more than one column on a page, an easier-to-read range (and easier-to-recall guideline) is an alphabet and a half to two alphabets (39 to 52 characters, including word spaces and punctuation). Some designers, such as Paul Mijksenaar, get to the same range by counting words instead of characters. He works toward an average of six to eight words a line (40 to 53 characters in Dutch words, which average 6.6 characters).

White adds this advice: “Never set anything the full width of a page” regardless of page size or medium (paper or electronic). “The problem with [full-width type] is that it looks as if it would run wider if the page were wider.” Type should relate to other material on the page, never to the perimeter of the page, he says.

A single column that leaves a wide margin (also called a “scholar's margin“), such as this page's layout, can work fine. On the Web, a single column offers the important benefit of preventing a viewer from having to scroll up while reading. (You know this irritation if you've ever tried to read a multicolumn print-to-PDF document on the screen instead of printing it out.)

WHAT ELSE AFFECTS CHARACTERS PER LINE COUNT … … x-height: Bigger often means wider

Given the same typeface, words, and line length, you know you'll fit more words on a line if they're set in a smaller point size than a bigger one (see the top series of samples on the facing page). But what you might not have known is that different typefaces in the same point size often set to different widths (see the second series of samples). That's because the x-height varies among typefaces. The cap size stays more consistent, truer to point size.

Of course the same typeface in a bigger point size takes up more space than it does in a smaller typeface.

Less intuitive: These two sentences have the same point size. Only the typeface and x-height (and width) change, so the amount of space the sentences take up changes, too. Because Garamond has a smaller x-height than Bookman (and almost anything except some script faces), it looks and sets smaller.

A tiny x-height without a compensating increase in point size can do more harm to legibility in text than it can in display type.

In these display sizes, Garamond needs to grow by four or five point sizes to look as big as Bookman. So if you use a typeface with a small x-height, use a bigger point size than you would for one with an average x-height.

Although the two type samples have the same point size (and the same characters), the typeface with the bigger x-height looks bigger and takes up more horizontal space than the one with a smaller x-height. So if you choose a typeface with a small x-height such as Garamond, you'll probably need to punch up the point size (see the other samples on the facing page).

… compression: Avoid it

As you've just seen, often x-height differences are reflected in character width (the name x-size might have been more accurate). But generous x-heights don't equate to generous widths in typefaces that are condensed—stretched vertically, compressed horizontally. Some typefaces are naturally condensed (such as Franklin Gothic), some are a condensed form of an uncondensed typeface (usually identified by the word condensed in their name, such as Univers Condensed or Univers Extra Condensed), and some typefaces get condensed when designers deliberately distort them.

And typefaces that are expanded—stretched horizontally, compressed vertically—take up extra space on a line. These often can be identified by the words Expanded or Extended in their name. For optimal text legibility, limit both horizontal and vertical compression. Avoid typefaces whose names identify them as compressed, and never compress by distorting. Typefaces often overstretch—in either direction—at the expense of legibility.

(To keep from inflicting the effects of compressed type on your audience, you might be able to get them out of your system at the food market. Broccoli growers often print their names in condensed type on the thick rubber bands that bind the stalks. Stretch the band and you expand the type.)

… text wraps: Avoid skinny ones

Good artwork can interest readers in the text by connecting with and expanding on the text. Text really flaunts its connection with the artwork when it wraps around it. But use restraint. Leave enough words—more than a couple—in the wrapping text to keep from throwing off the reading pace. And put artwork on the right side of the text column to keep the left edge intact and encourage readers to stay on track.

… point size: Bigger should mean longer, and vice versa

Achieving a comfortable reading pace means increasing point size for longer lines (within reason). The inverse also is true: If you must set text bigger than average (because your client or organizational standards demand it, for example), plan a longer line to accommodate it.

Longer lines also need more space between lines (leading). After traveling so far to the end of a long line, eyes tend to fall on their way back to the source of the next line. Extra leading helps them find their way.

STYLE

Watch your posture: Roman versus italics

Roman type, which stands straight up (you're reading it now), works best for large quantities of type. Reliable tests show italic type to be less legible than Roman, especially for sustained reading. And that's using italics that were designed to be italics—legibility really goes out the window when a word-processing program merely tilts letters to create pseudo italics. Use only real italics—typefaces with italic in the name—and use them sparingly in print as:

• a brief key sentence, word, or phrase
• short questions, to distinguish them from their longer Roman answers in a question-and-answer section
• book titles
• photo captions (also known as cutlines)
• foreign words and phrases
• words that are defined in a nearby glossary

Don't ask readers to read italics on a computer screen at all, according to Stop Stealing Sheep by Spiekermann and Ginger. On a screen, italics are “simply stupid” because “the pixel grid is square” and can't accommodate the curves of italics.

Watch your weight

Bold type is an effective way of showing contrast and emphasis. Readers identify it as a code for more important information. So in text it works to highlight people or company names that will attract readers. (In fact, you've probably heard celebrities referred to as “boldfaced names,” given their usual typographical treatment in magazine and newspaper gossip columns.)

Bold styles emphasize more powerfully than italics do, because of their increased contrast. Although italics contrast with regular type, some italic styles have finer strokes, so they have limited emphasis power. Bold not only contrasts with regular type but also stands out more from the background.

But boldface doesn't always stand up under pressure as you might expect. Here's another legibility challenge: In small sizes in particular, and especially in typefaces with small x-heights, ink tends to fill in small counters (the enclosures in the letters). Begin with a typeface that has a bigger x-height if you intend to use the bold at all; then test it in the smallest size you'll use.

Like italics, but even more, a little boldface goes a long way.

The case against all caps

All-uppercase text and headlines are foes to legibility. They persist from days of the typewriter, which offered limited ways to emphasize something. Today you have no excuse for all-caps text. We read lowercase text about 5–10 percent faster than we do all-caps, according to some studies. So just don't set it. In fact, according to Guidelines for Document Designers, limit all-caps type to four words.

The main problem with caps, many say, is that caps in any type-face have the same height, and plenty have the same width. So text in all caps presents no visually graspable shape to help us distinguish one word from any other that's the same length. As readers, we look for these clues. Squint at the word TYPOGRAPHY, for example. It's a tencharacter word with a shape that's hard to distinguish from most other ten-character words, despite distinctive-shaped characters on either end. Now look at UNDERSTAND. (See the sidebar above.)

Words that have the same number of characters, such as these two, have few distinguishing qualities when they're in all caps.

But in lower case, the same words have more to set them visually apart.

But with lowercase's dots, ascenders, descenders, and greater differences among letters come easily recognizable word shapes that readers can perceive more quickly than they can caps. Readers more easily see the words as the sums of their parts.

In any given size and face, caps also take up about 30 percent more space than lowercase, which is reason enough to avoid them in almost any medium. In print, text in caps means paying for extra pages to convey the same amount of information; in a Web site, such text asks the reader to scroll further for the same information. In an e-mail, add the potential for insult, given the widely held perception that all-cap messages “shout.”

But setting type in all-caps does work sometimes. In signage, unlike more stationary forms of reading, all-caps setting text is no less legible than mixed-case characters, according to The Signage Sourcebook. We tend to recognize characters in all caps more easily, which can come in handy when viewing signs from a distance. The problem with using caps in close-up and sustained reading is that we also tend to read them as individual characters more than as part of a word. Lowercase characters, more easily read in words and phrases, have the edge there. (See the sidebars below and on the next page.)

More styles you can use in text, but should you?

Underlined type is a throwback to the days of manual typewriters. Besides all-caps (and centering), it was the only other way to show emphasis. But underlining chops off those valuable descenders and violates the leading, so use italics instead when you can.

“Who's ‘OTE’?” Most people who see this T-shirt miss the neckline's initial cap. Shirt designer: Isaac Mizrahi. Client: declareyourself.com Model: Petra Algerova.

Avoid shadow type because it has muddied edges and outline type because it's made from only edges.

Avoid reversing quantities of text in print or on the Web. Also avoid putting a shadow on type or turning it into an outline, with limited exceptions. Shadows can help type stand out from a dark background on a Web screen or a slide, but they often get the job of rescuing display type from a busy Web or print background. They're not strong enough, and their attempts result in weakened type edges and word shapes; better to lose the busy background.

Then there's outline type. Neither here nor there, it lends only the hint of the shape, but without conviction enough to fill itself in. So type appears to fade into the surface, giving more power to the background glimpsed through the outline than to the type itself. In text type in particular, consider outlines the worst violation of the principle that mandates separating foreground (figure) and background (ground). Outline type is even less legible than reversed type.

ALIGNMENT IN TEXT TYPE

The easiest-to-read type columns align to the left margin, and let the right margin go ragged (flush left, ragged right) such as this book. That style puts equal spaces between each word in each line, so it supports a consistent reading pace.

Reading justified text is like hearing a speech in which every line varies in tempo (based only on the number of characters in the line, not the line's meaning). Instead, set a uniform reading pace by setting text flush left, ragged right.

By contrast, type columns that justify (align left and right) leave word spaces of varied lengths. Word space size varies because the number of characters and words in each line varies. Especially when those numbers vary a lot, reading becomes as awkward and annoying as listening to someone slow down and speed up from line to line.

So ragged-right text wins the text-reading contest. Its other advantage over justified text, say ragged-right fans (including me), is its look: approachable, accessible, even friendly. Justified-text fans call that a disadvantage, preferring the traditional symmetry of formal, precise, conservative columns. Certainly they have a point for some projects and audiences.

Traditionally, you'll find more books using justified columns. Also, engineers, doctors, and military and other government officials tend to prefer more formal-looking documents. Another reason justifiers die hard: You generally can fit more justified than ragged-right text in the same amount of space. But consider whether the loss of reading ease is worth it. And justification works only on wider-than-average columns because those have plenty of word spaces to divide up.

But even ragged-right text columns need help. They need hyphens where appropriate to avoid distracting gaps between the widest and narrowest lines. Then edit to avoid more than two hyphens in a row, which also distracts. (Some editors forbid more than one, while others permit as many as three.)

What about other alignments—ragged left, centered? “We read best what we read most,” according to Stop Stealing Sheep, the type book by Spiekermann and Ginger. And we prefer what's familiar. And flush-left type is what readers of Western languages read and know best. Our eyes are accustomed to starting to read on the left and returning to the left to continue. But with both ragged-left and centered text, the eye has to float for a bit—even if it's only a second—to find its place. In both ragged-left and centered edges, only the number of characters and word spaces, not content, determines placement.

Fortunately, ragged-left and centered edges don't turn up much in text, and they shouldn't in yours.

SPACING AND PLACEMENT: WHAT'S GRID GOT TO DO WITH IT?

The grid might be the most important part of a style sheet. It's a physical plan—a framework or structure—for consistently placing the elements within an information design. It's to information designers what a blueprint is to architects. The plan includes the number of columns, the size of the margins, the space between columns and paragraphs, and the size, number, and position of artwork. A well-designed one does all that while still remaining flexible enough to be interesting. “Grids should not be straitjackets,” according to Editing by Design by Jan V. White.

To make a grid, the designer creates a series of lines on the page that guide space use on that and every other page (or project part—grids work for any project with multiple parts, such as a series of signs). Those lines don't show in the final design (except on the facing page, in blue, as an example), only the organization imposed by them does.

A grid serves readers by organizing the info and establishing continuity within a design. When a grid's in place, readers’ experience with one page tells them what to expect and where to find things on subsequent pages. The grid imparts layout structure, consistency, and alignment—elements are anchored rather than seeming to “float,” because everything lines up with something on the grid. That helps readers flow from one element to the next.

Readers also might appreciate the balance and proportion a well-designed grid brings to a design. For example, the grid helps to balance more prominent elements against less prominent ones, to avoid topor bottom-heavy pages. It also balances the amount of empty space in proportion to filled space.

The two most important elements of the grid are margins and columns.

Margins frame a page

Top, bottom, and side margins contain the content within a design. Notice the ones on this page, then look at those on a few other books and magazines. Are the margins the same size all around the page, or is there more space in one of the margins? And do margins match from page to page?

More generous space at the top can help the eye fall into the type at the start of the page. They generally do—and should—match from page to page.

Bottom margins tend to be shallower than top margins but still deep enough to keep the information from looking as if it's falling off the page. The eye's distance from the page bottom—greater than its distance from anything else on the page—reinforces that illusion of gravity. “Big enough” often means the same size as the outer side margin, no less than a half inch. Like those at the top, bottom margins also should match from page to page and generally within a page. (See the sidebar on this page.)

Side margins also should match from page to page. Within a page is a different story. For a print publication that's designed in spreads (such as a magazine with left and right facing pages), add a little more space to the margins on the sides between the pages (the spine or folding side) than to those on the outer (trim) sides. Binding takes up space that can hide any type placed too close to it. So does the publication's natural curve, which gets more pronounced with more pages. Hole punches also can cut into the type. It might make sense for left and right margins to vary even more, leaving extra space at one side of the columns for display type, info boxes, and artwork.

Columns add structure

Consistently used columns help to establish a regular pattern throughout a project. Use as few or as many columns as you need to present the number and combination of words and pictures in the format in which you present. The column count also should match readers’ expectations for the format. For example, they don't expect a book to print in five columns, so avoid a five-column structure for a book unless the content absolutely demands it.

From an information-design perspective, columns’ presentation matters more than their number. Make sure the layout allows enough space for generous side margins. Avoid letting the sole column on a page take up more than about three-quarters of the page. And, in general, a bit of asymmetry in column placing can fight monotony. Look for it in the other designs you encounter.

As the early part of this chapter recommends, count characters to set legible type. Point size, typeface, and column width affect character counts. So, for example, if you must follow strict type size and face standards, they'll determine the correct column width—when you type 40 to 50 characters of that typeface in that size.

But free will still can reign—to a point—in the column count. For example, although the optimal character count on a page might allow three columns of text, you can choose to forgo one of those columns for artwork, sidebars, or empty space.

For another perspective on columns in use, see pages 48 and 49 of Editing by Design, third edition, by Jan V. White.

Grids depend on empty space

A design's empty space is really the grid's key ingredient and secret weapon. It's a valuable, active design element because of all it can contribute to content's digestibility when it's used properly. It adds structure, breathing room, and a sense of order. It helps to show relationships among elements. It funnels readers toward the content. It even helps to protect and isolate content from anything that competes for the reader's attention, both within and outside of the design.

Designers refer to empty space as “white space,” even though the space need not be white, only unfilled except for a solid background of white, black, gray, or a quiet color. “White space is nice space,” my first art director liked to say. It is nice in the right amounts and places. Let's look at what “right” means in white space's various design uses.

White-space placements

Notice space between elements such as photos and the text below it, or between stories. Don't let the space fall where it may. It's common, but not effective, to stretch or shrink space in a column to make everything line up at the bottom of the page. Instead, come up with a standard-sized “spacer,” maybe a quarter of an inch, but no less than an eighth. Use the spacer as if it were a chunk of metal holding elements apart (as hot-metal typesetters literally did).

Shrink the space between two items to show they relate to each other more closely than to others. For example, tighten the space between headings and secondary headings, between headings and the text it introduces, and between photos and their captions. Put more space above a subheading than below it. Put less space between two items to show they relate to each other more than they do to others on the page. People expect things that are close in space also to be close in meaning. Such space use sets a standard by which readers recognize and understand a meaningful deviation. It makes pages look planned … and stationary, as if the info isn't drifting away from view.

And it helps eyes flow through text. When readers get used to a grid, they don't have to think about where to find things.

Space between paragraphs

Use space between elements as a legiblity tool. For example, avoid letting a paragraph run on and on to complete a single thought (despite what your junior-high teacher might have told you). Paragraphs that run more than about two inches deep look daunting. Their very look can warn the reader to pack an overnight bag before entering; a less motivated reader won't enter at all.

Instead, subdivide that thought in logical places. Try to limit each paragraph to about one and a half or two inches in whatever size, face, and column width you've chosen. Should you signal a new paragraph with an indent or with an extra line space? There are plenty of schools of thought on the topic. Some designers and writers always add the line between paragraphs to inject more white space. Some prefer the indent on the theory that an extra line interrupts reading flow. Others use both at once. (That's the norm for direct-marketing letters, which also lean toward oversized indents to give readers a head start into the full-width column.)

Still other designers and writers sensibly choose one or the other according to the project. For example, you might indent the paragraphs of a publication with at least two columns on a page. The lack of an extra line between paragraphs emphasizes and unifies each column, a subtle prompt to read down it.

By contrast, an extra line space puts a bit more focus on the paragraphs than on the columns. That might be fine on a book or other project with one column and few other elements on the page to distract the reader. The extra line space would help to avoid too much unbroken text. And that's fine as long as you realize that an extra space between paragraphs alone rarely is enough to break up a gray page. You also need contrast, in the form of subheadings, pull quotes, and/or artwork.

These facing newsletter pages demonstrate appropriate margins. But the spacing still can be improved:

• Reduce the space between the headlines consistently to bring them closer to the stories they introduce.
• Match the spacing below stories, and between text and artwork.
• Break long paragraphs in half, and match the spacing between paragraphs. A skipped line only after the first paragraph doesn't work.
• Use more hyphens and a wider measure for the text wrapped around the photo on the right-hand page. Those extreme gaps (“trapped white space”) draw the eye.
• Fit the initial text around the drop cap so the first word reads like a word.
• Tighten the letter and word spacing of the headlines for quicker grasping.

Reprinted by permission of the International Monetary Fund. Newsletter: The IMF Institute Courier, Winter 2004.

Whether you indent or skip lines between paragraphs, also pay attention to the paragraph endings. Edit to leave enough words—more than half of the column width—on each paragraph's final line to avoid gaps that distract the eye away from the reading.

Controlling paragraph remainders and beginnings is even more important for paragraphs that end on a different page or column than the one they began on. Bring forward—or leave behind—no less than two or three full lines to avoid a fragment that the reader might overlook.

Also avoid asking readers to do more than just turn one page once to finish what they're reading. Many jumps for one story or jumps over multiple pages interrupt reading flow, give readers a way out, and turn off plenty of readers.

But like many guidelines, the one-jump rule has exceptions, including the cover page of a newsletter that includes three or more stories. (Also see the sidebar on this page.) Most publications go to more than one audience, so an early choice of stories is more likely to provide something for every potential audience. And the story that starts a reader reading right away attracts more powerfully than even a table of contents or a menu on the cover.*

Space between sentences

Put only one word space between sentences. That bears repeating for the organizations and supervisors who still swear by two word spaces after a period or other ending punctuation. Like caps and underlining, the two-space style is a typewriter leftover. Monospaced letters from typewriters might have needed an extra space between sentences. But the proportional text you produce with a computer does not, so double word spaces leave noticeable gaps.

Space between lines of text

How much leading should you use where? Leading, the amount of space between lines of type, is measured from the baseline (the invisible line on which type minus descenders sits) of one line to the baseline of the line above and below it. Like type size, it's measured in points.

Text leading should be open enough so the readers don't lose their place, straying into lines above or below them while trying to focus on one. Adequate leading also keeps lines from “crashing” (touching or overlapping extenders).

The gray lines represents the baseline. It's what the type sits on, and descenders extend below.

Too-tight leading can make readers lose their place (especially in wide columns), and lines crash. This is 12/9: 12-point type with –3 pts. of leading (a negative number means negative leading).

Too-loose leading emphasizes the background and deemphasizes text and paragraphs. This is 12/21: 12-point type with 9 points of leading.

But leading also should be tight enough so the background between lines doesn't draw the eye away from the type or disconnect each line from others in its paragraph. The lines in the paragraph must be seen as a unit.

Adequate space means no less than one or two points of leading. For example, you'd refer to two points of leading for, say, 10-point type as “10 on 12” (10 + 2); one point would be “10 on 11” (10 +1). This book is set in 9½-point text type ITC Stone Serif Semibold on 13-point leading. Consider at least an extra point of leading for typefaces with a bigger-than-average x-height and for bold faces; they cover more ground so they can look too dense at an average leading. And for all typefaces, always use enough leading to keep extenders from crashing into those on other lines.

Again, add even more leading to a type column that must be far wider than what's optimal for legibility. Extra leading will help eyes that must travel a great distance across a column find their place on the way back to the next line.

Space between letters in text: not too loose or tight

Tracking is the name for adjusting the amount of space between all characters in a continuous section of type over a page or pages. It applies to text, the main body of type—generally 9-point to 12-point—that's meant for sustained reading.

Software programs don't always call it tracking—look instead for “Spacing” in Photoshop, and “Character Space” in Word. But don't look too hard. People often change tracking for reasons that don't serve legibility: They squeeze too much text into a line, paragraph, column, or page, or they expand too small an amount of text to fill the available space. More legible solutions for having too much text are to edit (usually the best idea) or to move extra text to the next page. If you've got too little text for the page, add a pull quote or meaningful artwork. Or consider leaving the space empty and adjusting the layout to make the emptiness look deliberate.

But even tracking is a lesser evil than divvying up a distracting amount of space between paragraphs or other elements, or injecting it in one big blob. Such space becomes an obstacle the eye must leap. It also draws the eye away from the live elements on the page. Trapped white space is not nice space.

So save tracking as a last resort, and then use it only with utter restraint. That means if you must turn on the tracking, use the smallest possible increments you can get away with—Photoshop, for example, permits as little as a tenth of a point or pixel. And use it over everything that's visible by the audience at a time. That means a whole page, a whole two-page spread for a print publication, or even a whole document or publication. Print out the pages, and squint as you flip through them to guard against extremes.

Why? Tracking affects the page's “color,” the density of the text versus the background. Even nondesigners can tell when a page or section of a page is much denser or lighter than others. If the extreme letter spacing doesn't bother them, the change in pace—more or fewer characters on a line—will. The change in density also makes text look harder to read, so it could discourage readers. And when the text becomes lighter, it also loses contrast against the background, diminishing its legibility.

Shrinking or expanding the size just of the word spaces in one section of text is no more advisable. It also affects the page's color and the audience's reading rhythm, as does changing leading to fit. (See the sidebar in the following pages for more about paper.)

How to set display type

Display type refers to headings (headlines and titles), secondary headings (kicker heads, subheads), pull quotes, and sometimes to captions.

Size and weight

Because humans equate size with importance and prominence, it follows that headings (such as article headlines, chapter titles, and category heads) should be noticeably bigger and bolder than text. The size and weight should contrast with text enough that readers notice them first. As usual, what's noticeable and what works depends on the context.

Headlines catch the eye first or just after artwork, so get the message out in a glance with the right size, face, spacing, and words. Make sure you include a benefit to encourage people to want to find out more. As to size, you might start by considering headlines that are twice that of the text, smaller if needed for the column width and surrounding elements. For example, typically long heads in a narrow-column design dictate smaller type, while heads in a wide column could go bigger.

As in a good photo, a variety of lights and darks looks interesting. The contrast fights monotony, attracts attention, and helps to lead the eye through a page. Use enough contrast so the reader can easily distinguish the various levels while reading. That might mean changing “one parameter at a time,” one of the guidelines in Robert Bringhurst's excellent Elements of Typographic Style; it'll probably mean changing at least two parameters.

The guideline wisely advises restraint. A too-big heading, with little relationship to text size, could dominate the text so much that it distracts from reading the text. Also consider when changing, say, just the weight and not the size will do the job.

As for subheadings and captions, same thing: They should contrast with the text, not overwhelm it. Make the differences among various levels of type obvious and memorable but not distracting.

As usual, also consider the medium and the audience. For example, readers often decide whether or not to read a newsletter article by its headline. So it's wise to make those type elements stand out.

About pull quotes

The compelling text bits blown up into the display type known as pull quotes are handy design elements. They break up text with contrast to avoid unending, mind-numbing grayness. They also lure readers who haven't yet committed to reading the full text.

A few guidelines: Make sure the words you choose for pull quotes are compelling; their size alone won't capture someone thumbing through for something worthwhile. And make pull quotes at least 14-point. Limit them to one pull quote per page or spread because using too many dilutes their effect. Also limit them to five lines in a one-column layout, and no more than three lines in a layout with two or more columns—too many lines must be read as text instead of at a glance.

Typeface for display

Contrast figures here, too. Use the same typeface as the text but change the size and weight, or use a contrasting face. A typical pairing is bold sans serif, such as Franklin Gothic, for the heads, with a Roman serif text. In general, sans serif faces seem to reinforce an authoritative heading style. Decorative typefaces such as scripts and Old English do the opposite, so keep such gimmicks out of your information designs.

Style in display type

Style constraints for display type are the same as for text. So you won't want to:

• underline (though an occasional hand-drawn swash might work for a key word in a head)
• outline
• reverse (except for a word or two, maybe for a category heading)
• drop shadow (except on the Web or on slides)
• italicize or
• distort

Type distortion is a drawing-program feature new designers love to play with. But resist the temptation. Distortion not only fails to aid comprehension, it usually hinders it. That's because, almost by definition, it acts in defiance of type's careful design. Stretch, curve, or otherwise torment type at comprehension's peril.

But what if your clients insist that a stretched “STRETCH” would demonstrate what they can do for the readers’ budgets? Although verbal clichés can be memorable, graphic ones tend to lose meaning with repetition because readers stop seeing them.

Case in display type

Never set all caps for more than four words. The traditional style caps the first letter of each word except for articles (an, a, the) that aren't the first word of the line, and acronyms. Nontraditional “downstyle” capitalizes just the first letter of the first word of each line, plus proper nouns and acronyms. Fewer caps and the familiar sentence structure speed perception.

Standardizing on downstyle also helps to eliminate ambiguity where caps create it, as in “Senators Kill Bill.” Readers might wonder, are you talking veto or murder? (Polish and polish could create similar confusion in a traditional headline. Can you think of other words whose meaning changes with the case?)

Downstyle might take some getting used to, even for informal use; we're familiar with the traditional, formal newspaper-headline style (although some newspapers have adopted downstyle). But its benefits make it worth getting used to. (And if you don't mention it to your supervisors or readers, they might not even notice it; yet they're likely to nix it if you do mention it.)

Alignment in display type

Choose flush-left alignment most of the time. You can center a single one-line title on a cover page, a small category header on inside pages, or an invitation. But if symmetry (a highly overrated form of balance) tempts you to center anything else, breathe deeply until the temptation goes away.

For headings and pull quotes that have more than one line, break the lines where you can give readers a complete phrase in each visual “gulp.” That's news to those who fill the line before continuing to the next, or who strive for a longer second (or third) line. Instead, put a subject on the same line as its verb, a verb with its object, a preposition with its object.

For example, when you glance at this first line of the two-line headline, you get:

Democratic senators kill bill

in late session

It'll take the next word to complete the phrase.

Democratic senators kill bill

in late session

The top line, with no kerning, shows gaps between letters that don't fill up their “boxes.” The bottom line squeezes out the gap.

Space between letters

Kerning means changing the space between any two characters in display type that need it (as opposed to tracking, which is changing letter space throughout text). Some characters contain angles that leave a gap when they abut others. With kerning, you can reduce or eliminate the gap. In that case, kerning's value is to make sure words read as whole words. Kerning keeps that extra letter space between, say, the A's and the W's in the word AWARD from looking and reading like word spaces. (Kerning's also useful in lowercase, but not needed in sizes smaller than 14-point.)

Examine the difference between the same words set with and without kerning.

You also can kern to add space between characters that might be calling attention to themselves in a word by “kissing” or overlapping. Look again at the word TALENT above. The A and the L appear closer together than the L and E, which can't close up any more without losing the termination point of the L. So, along with closing up the space between the T and the A, you might want to open up the A and the L to balance the word and let it be read as a unit.

Space between lines

Inside two-line (or more, if you must) headlines and subheads, tighten the space between lines so they're seen as a unit, but not so much that the extenders and caps kiss or crash.

Tight leading (18/17 or –1 point of leading) visually groups the two lines of this headline without letting them touch, at least for this typeface with average-length extenders. Longer extenders would need extra leading.

One point of leading separates this primary headline from the 12-point secondary one, but not by too much. Both samples above shave a point from the formula for figuring minimum leading between display type lines: Add one-third of the point size of the type on top to two-thirds of the size of the line beneath it.

That's also true where a headline precedes a secondary head or the text itself. Set some variations in your page layout program until your eye gets used to what looks best.

If you have more than one heading or subheading in a column, use more space above than below the heading to connect it to the text it introduces.

Placement

Put things where readers expect to find them. Don't let the quest for creativity get in the way of that. So put:

• headlines and titles (close) above the text
• captions (close) below the photo
• pull quotes before their appearance in the text, if possible, for people who have committed to reading the text. Seeing a pull quote after seeing it in text feels redundant (yet rarely is off-putting enough to lose the reader), while seeing it first should intrigue. Put pull quotes toward the trim side of a printed page to attract uncommitted people who thumb through the publication to decide whether they'll read it. (As readers thumb, one hand usually holds the publication's spine and at least partially obscures elements at the fold.)

Respect page balance—and both the committed readers and the browsers—by not placing pull quotes at the very top or bottom of the page, where they'd look too heavy. Also, when a pull quote breaks into a paragraph, place it in the middle of the paragraph, rather than leaving just an easily overlooked scrap above or below.

How to design other style sheet elements clearly Rules (lines) and ruled boxes

Even with an element as skinny as a rule, use no more weights than have meaning, and use them consistently. In any one publication, restraint and consistency might mean a hairline vertical rule between columns, a half-point rule around photos and info boxes, and a 2-point horizontal rule to set off pull quotes. Especially avoid inconsistent or fancy box frames that call attention away from their contents.

With rules, go lighter than heavier. There's a fine line (so to speak) between showing enough difference between weights that it's obvious and varying so much that the heavier weight gets horsy. And use finer lines for low-resolution printing or Web sites than for high-resolution, because low-res bulks up everything.

Page numbers

Put them where readers are likely to look for them, probably at the outside lower corners. Make them visible (text size and weight), but not so big that they distract from the content readers used them to find.

Recurring features

When you have elements that recur in a project, make sure they're placed consistently, and record that placement in the design style sheet.

* In actual information projects, content selection and writing often come first. But in the most effective projects, the designer gets involved from the earliest stages of planning. The early interaction between writing and design increases the likelihood of developing design that supports and clearly conveys the content.

* Also known as “blown-up quotes,” pull quotes are excerpts from the text that are blown up and run near the text to draw attention to it.

* You might choose to emulate Nigel Holmes, a noted information designer and illustrator, who says, “If there were only Gill Sans in the world, I'd be happy.” Holmes says he likes the look of it, and it comes in so many weights, “you'd never need anything else.” (At least not in the sans serif category. Accepting the argument that serifs make a lot of text easier to read, he turns to serifs, including Hoeffler, by Jonathan Hoeffler, in those cases.) Holmes cites the even greater loyalty of Austrian sociologist, philosopher, and designer Otto Neurath to a version of Futura: “He just always used the same typeface.” But you can make a strong case that Neurath, whose work inspired the development of an international symbol system, preferred images to words. In more recent times, Burkey Belser, of Greenfield/Belser Ltd., includes Gill Sans and Futura on his short list of legible typefaces for brochures and books; the list also includes Garamond, Bembo, Frutiger, and Franklin Gothic.

* But also use a table of contents or a menu, because it answers the essential question of any potential reader: “What's in the publication for me?” On the Web, it also eliminates scrolling to find something. For dozens of listings, alphabetical links help people move quickly to their chosen topic (if you use the same topic name that they do, and audience research can ensure it). With fewer listings, you can let them link on the name or the headline.