Simplicity Rules

Adam DuVander on keeping it simple

A Simple Personal Portal

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Recently I pushed a new, streamlined version of my personal website. Not this one, which bears my name, but the shorter, dot-org-ier version of the username I choose if I’m early enough—which, these days, I’m usually not.

Part of me was looking for a tiny creative project. But it was important that it be pretty darn small, as I was just looking to get something together in the margins of the weekend.

What’s a simple website look like in 2022? I couldn’t get the retro constraints of 8 bit out of my mind, so I ended up with this:

My “web designer” days are far behind me so I went looking for an existing theme. Instead, I found some nostalgic CSS styles. It didn’t include layout and using a framework for a tiny page seemed overkill. So, I went retro here, too: I swiped HTML from the demo page with some old-fashioned View Source.

Somewhere along the line, I bumped into a blog post by the creator of these NES.css styles. Their primary motivation was kismet:

I like simple

That was my email signature for a long time and certainly behind the naming of Simplicity Rules®.

Why adamd.org Needed a Change

In fact, it was an email signature that sent me off to cobble together this new, 8 bit personal portal. Most of my online profiles now point to my business site. Recently, in an effort to get “business conversations” in the right inbox, I switched out to a more personal signature for personal email… which led me to visit adamd.org.

Its small digital footprint was crumbling:

  • An embedded video was broken
  • It used an old business logo
  • My “professional timeline” stopped in 2018
  • There was no mention of my latest book

Worse yet, there was a section titled “What I actually do” that went on to not describe very well what I actually do now.

Oops.

Rather than replace every section of the old site, I used the two simplicity paths to arrive at the core of what’s needed today. I’m calling the new site a personal portal because it mostly points out to other places to find me on the web. It;s there as a snapshot of my most important projects right now.

As a writer, I think in word counts. The new site only includes 126 words. If I had more time, I might try to cut that down some more, as I’m sure Mark Twain would have written on his website.

And… What Else is New?

One of the projects on this new personal portal really deserved its own post here. Alas, at this point I’ve buried the lede…

I wrote another book!

Published in May 2021, Developer Marketing Does Not Exist shares the philosophy behind my work. More importantly, it’s helped over 1,000 marketers reach more of the right developers. It was covered by Nordic APIs and Techcrunch.

A book a decade, I joked. Map Scripting 101, now out of print unless you count the five copies I still have, was published in August 2010. It received much more “coverage” on this here site.

Even by 2010 things on the web had changed. Social networks became the way we shared the latest. Blogs, which started as personal endeavors, became businesses… and businesses added blogs.

In 2007, I lamented that the personal website had disappeared. The hand-crafted, HTML playgrounds became templatized and themed. And I wrote those laments on a blog that was sterile by comparison.

Forgetting to note new achievements like books, jobs, and—I dunno—children is one sign of how both adamd.org and adamduvander.com haven’t kept up with changes. That may remain the case, but at least for now, both have some version of my latest news.

Simply put, that’s good enough for now.

It’s Been 668 Days

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This is one of those classic personal blog posts.

Here’s the structure:

  1. I point out how long it’s been since my last post
  2. I apologize for the inconvenience to you
  3. I promise to do better in the future

I’m going to buck the trend and only do #1.

It’s Not an Abberation, It’s a Pattern

Yes, there have been 668 days since my last post, which was kind of a joke about the glue of the internet. Those 668 days, for those who are keeping track of such things, set a record. This current gap, which ends today with this post, surpassed the previous record by 181 days.

The last record was set in 2016 and its gap stretched back into 2015. I have been not writing on this blog for a long time.

Look, I made a chart:

Those first five years were prolific, but I explained that in a different chart in a post from 2015. I blamed it on the cobbler problem since writing blog posts has been some part of my professional capacity for years now.

The days between posts have expanded. In the last five years, I have written here 11 times. On average, that’s 178 days between posts. That’s about two posts a year, which is more than I would have guessed.

But things are about to get crazy.

Bursts Used to Be the Norm

I might not be sticking to the structure of the first-post-in-awhile post, but I am keeping the spirit intact. There’s already been one self-referential chart. Another is on the way.

During some time when I could have written a meaningful post, I reviewed the data for my personal blog. Something about the days between posts numbers jumped out at me: not only did I blog more frequently at one point, but I also used to publish multiple posts on the same day.

There were 61 days from 2005 to 2007 that I wrote two posts. The next year, it happened twice.

And then: a long, long drought. More than a decade.

Those with a keen eye for chart-reading will notice there were multiple posts published on the same day in 2022. Since this post broke a streak of almost two years between posts, it seems impossible.

Your omniscient narrator knows something you don’t.

I’m Not Sorry and I’m Not Changing

I’d originally planned a different post to share some news and poke fun at the plight of personal websites. But curiosity about the time between posts got the best of me and next thing you know, I’d made charts.

So, now I’ve gone to great lengths to point out how long it’s been since my last post.

But I haven’t apologized for the inconvenience to you. And I won’t. Because I hope you haven’t been reloading this page for 668 days.

I also haven’t promised to do better in the future. In fact, I showed data that suggests I’m more likely to do worse in the future.

Now…

Remember that different post I was going to share before I got distracted by this meta-post? The reason I’m confident enough to include same-day data in 2022 is I’ve already written that post. Through the magic of editing, I’ll include a link to it here once I’ve published it.

But please remember: just because I’ve published twice in one day for the first time since April 22, 2008, does not mean I’ve promised to do better in the future. And I’m not sorry about that.

The Glue of the Internet

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Have you heard about the glue of the Internet? It is many things. I am the glue of the Internet. You are the glue of the Internet.

I do have a history of noticing cliches. So, when I came upon this one again, I had to etch it in stone for eternity right here on this blog.

Those Sticky, Sticky APIs

I’ve written about APIs for over a decade, so before publishing a post like this, I had to confirm I’ve never called them the glue of the Internet. Google says I haven’t.

I have spoken at GlueCon, a fantastic developer conference that is in its 11th year. If I had to guess, its name is slightly tongue-in-cheek, which shows how long this has been a cliche.

APIs are the glue of the Internet, said Spanish multinational bank BBVA in 2016. More recently, Open Banking initiatives have hammered home its gluey status, as American Banker declared in 2019.

Software testers are often working with black boxes. So, let’s hope the glue dries clear when they’re testing APIs. Because APIs are the glue of the Internet.

They’re also the glue of many other things. APIs have a lot they’re holding together!

That’s a Hard iPaaS

Truth be told, this post was inspired by Integromat, an integration platform-as-a-service (iPaaS). I’ll just leave a screenshot of its home page here:

Integromat is the glue of the Internet?

For two years, I worked at Zapier, a competitor that predates Integromat. I may be biased, but I found plenty of examples (this being the oldest) declaring that Zapier is the glue of the Internet.

On the other hand, Zeleo invites you to glue the Internet together.

And, to be fair, TechCrunch declared IFTTT to be the Internet Glue Service in 2014.

The Elmer’s of Protocols

APIs and iPaaS are nothing compared to the series of tubes the Internet is built upon.

BGP is the glue of the Internet, according to a 2012 Cloudflare post recapping Google downtime. Border Gateway Protocol, as it’s known formally, determines Internet routes.

Indeed, network interconnection points are the glue of the Internet, as declared over 20 years ago in an article that also mentions long distance phone services and dial-up Internet.

A little farther up the stack, you bet that HTTP is the glue of the Internet. Or is TCP/IP the glue of the Internet? Or maybe Sendmail and FTP?

Keeping up the Paste

There are so many other things that may be the glue of the Internet, it’s really hard to keep track.

Dan Gilmour said that links are the glue of the Internet. But Rhett Allain said link aggregators are the glue of the Internet. Why not both?

Speaking of memes, another site claimed that memes are the glue of the Internet. I’m not linking the site because it also wanted me to download Flash and then forwarded me to an advertiser’s site before I could cancel it.

But I appreciate the sentiment: with Internet as the glue of our everyday lives, the glue of the Internet should move beyond the technical bits. It’s not just APIs, protocols, and integration tools.

It’s the sorts of stuff that everybody can appreciate. If it’s not memes, maybe photobombs are the glue of the Internet?

Let me know what’s gluing your Internet together.

The Possibility and Pressure of a Blank Slate

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10 years ago I stared at an empty OpenOffice document. The cursor blinked expectantly.

It was early January, 2009, I had inked a book deal, and was frozen. My proposal included a complete outline, so it’s not like I didn’t know what to write.

There’s some comfort in an empty document, the italicized Untitled filename can still become anything. With a blank slate, there is only possibility.

I rationalized that maybe I shouldn’t start with chapter one. It’s like a persuasive essay where you write the introduction last so you can foreshadow the argument you’ve already made. That makes a lot less sense for a programming cookbook, but I moved on to chapter two.

It didn’t get easier. All I could think about was how permanent the words would be, printed into 5,000 copies. Nevermind that it would be 18 months later and that I’d have at least five opportunities to change every word, sentence, and code sample.

I felt the pressure of the possibility.

Possibilities are Endless with a Blank Slate

Fresh starts are nice. Despite the pressures of writer’s block, the truth was the blinking cursor was all possibility. As I write this, it’s the first week of 2019. A new year. Resolutions abound as people optimistically look out at the possibility of a blank slate.

There is potential energy stored up in anything new: freshly fallen snow, a beautiful wedding cake, or electronics straight from their packaging, that static plastic film still covering the screen. Unfortunately, none of those things fulfill their purpose left in their pristine state. The electronics should be used, the wedding cake should be cut (and eaten!) and that snow should be trod upon by hefty winter boots.

Most new things are concepts rather than physical things. Semesters in school—then quarters in business—each bring new possibilities. Monday is the start of a new week and every single day (so far) the sun rises. Even a washed car and full tank of gas hold inspiring potential.

You don’t need to wait for some milestone (like January 1), you can make your own newness. My friend Mike Vardy advocates starting the new year whenever you want. Because of his influence, I’m 12 weeks into training for a 5K rather than starting with the calendar year.

Making newness means you’re manufacturing possibility. That feels great, but comes with the responsibility of moving toward that potential. For me, that responsibility means I’m also manufacturing pressure, the same sort that had me staring at the blinking cursor 10 years ago.

Pressures Increase when the Slate Remains Blank

Here’s where the internal dialogue starts: I’ve written the section above, but this one is empty. That’s a lot of pressure. I’m happy with this post so far. What if I screw it up? But if I never write anything, the post will never be finished.

Some people spend years in the state of possibility. It’s like the old calculation of an idea’s value. The execution is what’s valuable and the idea is a multiplier. The idea is the possibility, and it’s much more comfortable than taking action. When you execute, you might find it’s harder than you thought, and you might feel the pressure of a reality mismatched with the fiction of possibility.

It was almost three years ago that I decided I should be a runner. I knew there were programs that started slowly with a mix of running and walking. Putting shoes to pavement is the ultimate reality check. It was much easier to imagine having done it than to do it. Two years passed. On my birthday in 2018, I created an event page for the following year, but never published it. Finally, six months later, I laced up my shoes and ran a couple blocks.

When you start turning the possibility into reality, the pressure should decrease. The build up of potential energy is translated into action. At the same time, and this can be hard, the possibility also decreases. This thing you’re doing is becoming real. It may not match what you imagined. But your working on it is the only thing that fulfills its potential.

For me, after awhile of taking action on the newness, once it stops feeling new, another blank slate appears in my mind. It’s the one that imagines that others will really love it or really hate it. It’s a cycle and it includes new possibilities, which means new pressures. And the only way around that is more action: launching, sharing, or whatever it is that will move that reaction from possibility to reality.

Will You Ever Write Another Book?

This post started as a way to commemorate the 10 year anniversary of a huge project about which I’m proud. Even if technology, as it inevitably would, has made my book a bit outdated, I can always say I wrote the book on map scripting (primarily because that’s a term I made up!).

When that 18 month process came to a close with the book’s publication in 2010, I was often asked whether I’d write another book. At the time I expressed uncertainty. There’s a lot to gain from writing one book (it’s the reason for my current career path), but the jump to two-time author is seemingly less impactful.

It’s been awhile since someone asked me, but my ol’ blog buddy Mike Duffy posted on Facebook and I found myself responding: “Always maybe.”

If I wrote another book, I’d definitely remember what I learned last time: write it in the margins of work and focus on progress every day. But I’d also look to share more sooner, to tighten that possibility and pressure cycle.

Recently I came across Kelly Miller’s 30 day book project. From October 1 to November 1, Kelly moved the project forward, from outlining, to writing, to editing. And she has an epic Twitter thread where she checked in every day with progress.

Regardless of whether it’s writing a book, I think we can all learn from that approach to the projects that matter to us. As the possibility turns to pressure, remember that forward progress both relieves the pressure and brings your efforts into reality.

How the Best Developer-Focused Companies Reach Their Audience

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I’d start this post by proudly making an announcement, but that sort of sentence serves the writer more than the reader. You’re here to learn how developer-focused companies reach their audience. I’ve been exploring developer communications for a long time, going back to my time writing code. I’ll be applying what I’ve learned in my new consultancy and no doubt learning plenty more, too.

Developer marketing—if you must call it that—is more about education than selling. It’s about discovering, feeling, and solving a developer’s problems. You’re a guide inspiring them to see what’s possible.

Understand Your Developers

When you look at the best developer-focused companies, like Twilio and Stripe, there’s a natural developer flavor that comes across. While they start with great products, the communications effort comes down to understanding their audience.

Far too many attempts at developer marketing start with a focus on the product. That’s part of the equation, but too often that’s where it ends. If you’re only thinking about the what, you miss out on the real value in the why and the how.

You need to really understand what sort of problems your API or developer tool solves. If you’re a developer, you may be able to spitball your way to some ideas. If you aren’t a developer, you likely talk to more technical teammates, but the value could be lost in translation.

The absolute best way to understand your developers is to talk to them. That assumes you know who your developers are. If you don’t know that, there’s even more work to do. Start by talking to who you think your developers are and see what resonates. Developers are typically forthright with their feedback.

Figure out what the pains, frustrations, hopes, and desires your developers hold. Keep a log. It won’t take you very many conversations to get a good feel for where you can help. Though I’ve done some version of this in most of my roles, my time at Zapier is freshest in my mind. I jumped on many calls with users building on the platform and saw those insights enter into my writing, as well as product decisions.

Show Developers What’s Possible

Once you understand your developers, communicating becomes much easier. You can focus on the developer, not the product. Or, put another way I’ve espoused the last five years, share knowledge, not features.

This is where developer education and inspiration comes in. Developers are curious. What can you teach them? You already know their pains, so start helping them. At Orchestrate, we knew our best developers were starting something. So, we showed them how to add user login to their app. It turns out, you need a database to hold user accounts, and that’s what Orchestrate provided. That single tutorial drove thousands of visits over the years.

Simply cross-referencing developer pains with a couple of languages or frameworks can give you plenty of roadmap for months worth of developer content.

And that’s really what the best dev-focused companies do to reach their audience. They speak directly to how developers can solve their problems. And while they may attend events and otherwise reach some developers in person, the real scale comes from content: blog posts, guides, documentation, and more.

API and Developer Expert for Hire

For the last 10 years, my professional focus has been engaging with developers: from writing tutorials at Wired—or writing an entire book—to working at API companies like SendGrid and Orchestrate. With each new role I learned more about developer audiences, how companies reach them, and the type of work I do best.

Not everyone is able to execute themselves on what seems like a simple two step process. First, understand your developers. Second, show them what’s possible.

I’ll be walking the talk on EveryDeveloper and helping the best dev-focused companies reach more developers.