Photo: Ben Stanfield, cc flickr

Steve Jobs wasn’t a magician. He didn’t have supernatural powers. He was bound by the same rules of physics, chemistry and biology as all of us. And yet, somehow, he managed in his too-short life to turn extraordinary leaps forward in technology and usability into a nearly commonplace occurrence.

How, then, did he do that? The received wisdom after his death is that he was special, different, cut from a better grade of cloth. And, certainly, he was all of those things. But I wonder if his secret weapon wasn’t something remarkably commonplace. Mundane, even.

Yes, he was smarter than most of us. Yes, he was more driven. Yes, he had an innate sense of what would work and an unparalleled ability to motivate people to make those ideas come to life. And, yes, he was the greatest CEO-showman that we’ve ever known.

But, more than all of that, he knew and used the power of one simple word.

“No.”

Without “no,” in your arsenal, it’s easy to get distracted. Without “no,” vision can be destroyed. Without “no,” any project, large or small, will be derailed. But with it, focus is maintained, momentum grows and, ultimately, product ships that is as wonderful in production as it first seemed on the whiteboard or sketchpad.

Here’s Steve Jobs, speaking to the Worldwide Developers Conference in 1997, talking about how he reined in Apple’s developers who were pursuing multiple projects in many different directions, with the power of “no”:

You think focusing is about saying “yes.”

No.

“Focusing is about saying no. And when you say no you piss off people. (But) the result of that focus is going to be some great products where the total is greater than the sum of its parts.”

To me, the most inspiring thing about “no,” whoever uses it well and properly, is that it’s a word that’s available to each of us, if only we’d speak it. Each “no” stands alert, guarding the rare and precious yes that’s at the core of our visions. Alone and in concert, these small negatives clear the way for us to focus on the positive outcome we’re all aiming for.

Think about questions like these every time you’re asked to expand the scope of a project, or to take on a new one:

• Does it fit the vision?
• Will it get us closer to our goal?
• Without it, will we be unable to ship?
• Is it worth killing something else to do this?

If the answer you think is “no,” then you already have your answer. Say it. Aloud. “No.” You may be surprised at how close it’ll get you to the yeses that are most important.

Do that, and we’re honoring the memory of Steve in the best possible way.

Which means I wanted an early train. So I searched for morning trains on the Amtrak site:

…and found that the earliest train possible got me from Baltimore to NYC by 8:44:

I thought I’d remembered earlier trains, but guessed that they may have been sold out, given that I was traveling at the last minute (UX note: See how quickly I assume I’m doing something wrong, instead of the site). But this morning, as I pondered the mad 20-block dash to get to my meeting a half-hour late, it struck me as impossibly odd. So I searched other dates into the summer, all with the same result of no trains before 6 a.m.

I downloaded the official Amtrak Northeast Corridor timetable (updated March 2011) and it confirmed my suspicions: there were earlier trains. So why weren’t they showing up on the Amtrak site when I was looking, I thought, at all morning trains?

I called to talk to a ticket agent. While I was on hold, I did what all flummoxed web users do: I clicked on random things. Finally, I hit on the secret combination: Instead of selecting “morning,” I should select a particular hour in the morning. 5 a.m., for example.

When I finally got the friendly Amtrak web support person on the phone, I asked her why the choice of “morning” did not, in fact, display all of the morning trains. She didn’t know, but her guess (and I think she’s correct) was that the site designer assumed that most people meant 6 a.m. when they said morning.

Assumed.

Most people.

Dangerous words.

Anyway, I got what  I wanted, I suppose. And now I’ll be setting the alarm for 4:30 a.m., instead of the comparatively luxurious 5:30 a.m.

By now, you’ve heard about the fact that your iPhone has been caching its location data file for months, leaving a nifty but, for some, troubling series of virtual breadcrumbs showing the phone’s movement over time.

I tend to agree with Gruber and other cooler heads that this is half-intentional, half-mistake. The intentional point is the short-term caching of location data to serve apps that use it. The mistake is in not flushing the data after it’s been used. Apparently, this is the way Android handles similar location information.

My guess: watch for an update real soon now.

Until then, marvel at the way these kinds of stories almost always play out:

• The original story is reported, in this case with nuance and a downloadable app to pull your own data and display it.
• Blogs pick it up and spin accordingly. Many Apple-centric sites report it with some perspective. Others freak out.
• A midwestern former-comedian-turned-senator demands answers.
• A subsequent post points out that answers to the senator’s questions already exist.
• Local television news joins the freakout. “YOUR PHONE IS SPYING ON YOU! DETAILS AT 11.”

What’s next? I don’t watch it, but I imagine that The Today Show will devote a sizable chunk of the show to it this morning. NPR will wring its hands. Consumer Reports will be sure to issue a news release saying that they still don’t recommend the iPhone. And Steve Ballmer will tell some interviewer willing to listen that he knew all along that “the iPhone is a flawed approach to smartphones.”

Okay. Now I’m exaggerating. But the point stands.

It’s a story. No question. And there are legitimate inquiries to be made about why Apple doesn’t flush out the data more frequently (or at all) and what, exactly, it’s being used for (there are many plausible guesses that are quite benign, but, so far, Apple hasn’t spoken up and cleared the air).

But by the time it gets to the ears of the general public, it’s become something much larger and, honestly, much more alarming and inaccurate.

One of the many bookcases at Baltimore's Book Thing, a free book exchange. Photo by Knile, cc at flickr.

Amazon announced today that, later this year, 11,000 libraries across the United States will be participating in the Kindle Lending Library, which will allow library patrons to borrow Kindle books.

Great idea, and long overdue.

But I want more. Or, if we’re getting technical about it, less.

I want to be able to donate my “used” Kindle editions to my local library. I’ve read most of them exactly one time. My wife and daughter could technically read them as well, using my login, but that’s as far as it goes.

With physical books, it’s simpler. Several times a year, I fill up the trunk of the Element with anything I’ve already read and won’t be holding onto for reference and take them to Baltimore’s Book Thing, an amazing and free book exchange where a sign near the exit encourages visitors to “Be Greedy” with their armloads of books.

And, yet, somehow the shelves are never empty. Because there’s an ongoing inbound supply of books.

Why not transition this model to e-books as well? I should be able to transfer my license to a public library. Why not? I give my paper books away all the time.

The new Patch iPhone app was released on iTunes this morning. I think there’s a lot to like there — especially if you’re in one of the 800+ (and growing) towns with its own Patch.

One well-designed small feature struck me immediately after I’d loaded the app: The simple help overlay that appeared on first launch. At a glance, if I had any question about how to use the app, it was answered visually and easily.

Nice touch.

He doesn’t share any further details, but my bet is that a lot of that $40 million is marketing and first-year revenue loss, tracked as a cost (with the assumption of better numbers in the out years).

Ostensibly, it’s about how Mark Wahlberg “cut some corners” to make his magnificent “The Fighter” movie. But it’s really about how to focus on what you’re trying to accomplish, and whether the methods to get there you’ve been told are the right ones really are the right ones.

It ties in with another great question to ask: What problem are you solving? The goal was to make the fights seem real. Not to make them look good. To seem real. Focusing on that changes the requirements.

And that leads to another good question you should always come back to: Is there an easier way? The HBO fight crew is made up of experts at filming fights. They don’t need to be taught how to make it look real. They’re used to capturing a fight in one take — and that’s without knowing what will happen beforehand. Shooting this way is a piece of cake for them.

And maybe the most important question: What’s the opportunity cost? The whole film had a shooting calendar of 33 days. Filming it the HBO way means the movie gets made. A longer, pricier approach might have doomed the film and prevented it from ever being shot in the first place.

Most of us aren’t filming fight scenes. But the way Wahlberg and his team challenged assumptions and questioned traditional “best practices” is something that can be applied to all kinds of arenas, not just boxing ones.

But if you stick to just the trenchant but usual suspects who weigh in, you might have missed some very solid analysis from the greater geek community.

For instance, John Gruber of Mac site Daring Fireball, who can’t help but compare the pricing strategies of Netflix and Apple with that of The New York Times, and find the Times wanting:

One thing many companies — in any industry — can learn from Apple is the importance of simple pricing. If you make it easy for people to understand how much they’re paying, and what they’re paying for, it is more likely that they’ll buy it. Or perhaps this is driven more by the converse: if people are confused about how much they have to pay, they’re more likely not to. The decision to purchase and the act of paying are part of the experience for any product or service, and should be designed accordingly.

…

This brings me to The New York Times’s new digital subscriptions. They’re neither easy-to-understand nor sound like a great value. Unlimited access to the NYT costs four times more than Netflix — $35 every four weeks. You can pay $15 or $20 every four weeks instead, but then you’ve got to choose between using a Times app on your smartphone or iPad (respectively). And how many normal people realize that if you, say, opt for the $15 plan, that you’ll be able to access the Times website from your iPad?

Netflix: one price, access from any device.

New York Times: three tiers, arbitrary division between devices based on screen size.

And this is from a self-confessed Times fan who wants them to succeed, but ends:

I don’t know that a simpler, lower-priced digital subscription plan would work for The Times, but I feel strongly that it would be more likely to work than what they’ve announced. I have a bad feeling about this.

I think Gruber’s onto something here. Companies with something to sell need to make it drop-dead easy for their fans to give them money. I’d add that they need to do so at a price-point that makes the buyer feel good about the purchase.

A while back I was talking about how great it was to see music artists like Sam Phillips turn the old system upside down and not only publish her own digital music, but also bring her fans behind the curtain while she made it.

It seems the same thing has been happening in book publishing.

I was checking my local library queue the other night and saw that I was number 277 in line to borrow the new book from Michael Connelly.

I didn’t feel like waiting that long, knew I had some credit at Amazon and figured I’d just download it to my Kindle app. Live a little. Splurge.

I learned two things: 1) The book’s not released yet and 2) We live in times where an actual physical object, made of materials and labor, delivered to my doorstep, costs less than a tiny cupful of data, delivered wirelessly.

That’s right. The Kindle version of the new Michael Connelly novel costs more than the new hardcover:

But that’s not really the point of this post. The point of this post is that my thwarted intention to buy the new Michael Connelly — and my recoil at the price — led me to glance across the screen to the chart of top mystery books where the latest by Stephen Carpenter — a pixel-turner called “Killer” — was on offer for the remarkably reasonable sum of $2.99.

How can you not take a chance on a book for three bucks?

As it turned out, money well-spent. The guy can write. I’m looking forward to finishing it later tonight.

And that is the point of this post. That Carpenter is not alone. That readers can be found outside the traditional channels. Check out all those titles at the top of the Kindle charts with the tiny prices: In the publishing business, right now, disintermediation happens.

Stephen Carpenter — a successful screenwriter — is now also a successful novelist thanks to his ability to publish his first book on Kindle, price it reasonably and keep many more of the dollars than if he had gone through a traditional publisher.

“I think it’s an incredible step forward for authors and readers alike. I read a columnist the other day who likened the development of the e-reader to the Gutenberg press, in terms of progressing the written word. That’s obviously an overstatement, but I think it’s great that so many people have access to so many books inexpensively–and that so many authors can publish without going through traditional channels.”

And then there’s Amanda Hocking, who has gotten a great deal of attention lately as “the most successful indie author” on Amazon. To date she’s sold 700,000 books, according to Business Insider.

She gets to keep 70% of her book sales — and she sells around 100,000 copies per month. By comparison, it’s usually thought that it takes a few tens of thousands of copies sold in the first week to be a New York Times bestselling writer.

The comparison isn’t entirely fair, because Hocking sells her books for $3, and some $.99. But that’s the point: by lowering the prices, she can make more on volume, especially impulse buys. Meanwhile e-books cost nothing to print, you don’t have to worry about print volumes, shelf space, inventory, etc. And did we mention the writer keeps 70%?

Hocking and other authors are making a tidy living publishing without publishing houses, using the massive distribution and reach of Amazon to rack up numbers that would qualify them for New York Times Bestseller status. If The New York Times didn’t ignore this category of sales, that is.

This list, for example, has almost 40 authors — most you’ve never heard of — who are selling 1,000 books a month or more through Amazon. They’re not all wearing spats and lighting stogies with $50 bills yet, but they’re reaching real readers and collecting real dollars.

What do you think? Are traditional publishers in trouble here, or is this the beginning of a glorious revolution in authoring and reading that has benefits for everyone, classy-imprint houses included? I hope it’s win-win-win, but for an industry that seems so afraid of digital that it prices downloads to prop up physical book purchases, I’m not holding my breath.

Over the past week, a chart showing the distribution of consumer dollars spent on recorded music has bounced around the internet, seeming to show that music sales overall are doing pretty well here in the digital age:

Which is great, until you look at the data adjusted for inflation, as anyone seeking truth in the numbers would:

And then you’ll notice, as Business Insider’s Michael DeGusta did, that the original chart tells a story that, if we’re being honest, is completely wrong. Spending isn’t up — it’s down. Way down.

Read the whole post, and marvel at the wonder that is statistical analysis.

(Photo by Darren Wright, creative commons licensed)

When my blog is neglected, it’s a pretty good sign that I’m happy and busy.

So, why the neglect this time? As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been working with an amazing team of journalists to create a network of very-local news and information web sites. By the time we flipped the calendar to 2011, we’d managed to launch more than 750 unique web sites in communities across the United States.

The mission is far from finished — and my work continues to feed my obsessive need to pound at the MacBook until all hours of the night — but this seemed as good a time as any to check in and drop the blog-equivalent of a scribble on the back of a pasteboard photo of The Grand Canyon:

Having a great time. Will write soon.

(Image by Ignacio Izquierdo, Creative Commons, flickr. I haven’t been to the Grand Canyon myself. Yet.)

Consider the facts:

• There’s not even enough parking at the fairgrounds to handle an average slow afternoon when the only attraction is sheep-shearing and watching green-faced teens lurch off the Zipper ride, looking desperately for a trash barrel.
• The Light Rail swoons into its Victorian Fainting Couch whenever demand rises from the “Ennui” level to “Mildly Interested.”
• Many of the concert-goers are too young to drive or take public transit by themselves anyway, so there could be a massive line of minivans and Priuses waiting to disgorge Princess and her friends at the gates.

If my paranoid reverie is too much, there’s always the much more even-handed preview from Timonium Patch, which outlines what to expect when Bieber Fever hits the Infield.

If nothing else, it should be fun to watch. From a distance.

(Photo: Creative Commons from flickr user Daniel Dionne.)

WOW!

If you have an iPad, or if you know someone who has an iPad, download Flipboard as soon as you can to get an idea of what a fresh approach to web browsing – you remember browsing, don’t you? - looks like.

The developers call it “your personalized social magazine.” For once, the buzzwords are justified.

At its heart, it’s not all that unusual, taking automated feeds — topics you like, your Facebook news feed, your Twitter feed — and presenting them in an engaging and visually-pleasing way.

But therein lies the beauty of this app. Because, unlike, say, your usual Twitter feed, which is just 140ish characters and a link, Flipboard reaches into that link and presents the content that’s being linked to. If there is no link, the tweets are presented solo, as pithy pullquotes.

Some samples:

And, while this is primarily a browsing tool, you’re not locked out from the social web as you are in some of the toddling efforts from “magazine” magazines. You can comment on or like a Facebook post, reply to a tweet, etc.

To be sure, there are improvements that would be welcome. The ability to sync with Google Reader would be nice. Also, the app’s sudden popularity makes it non-responsive at times, according to the comments on its page. And, as this isn’t meant to be a full replacement for Facebook or Twitter, there’s no way (yet) to create new posts, only contribute to existing content.

I feel like I’ve finally seen something completely new and uniquely tuned to the pad-browsing environment in Flipboard.

UPDATE: The backstory, from ReadWriteWeb.

New Apple Friend Bar Gives Customers Someone To Talk At About Mac Products