On 2/7/2016 6:22 AM, philo wrote:
On 02/06/2016 08:35 PM, Don Y wrote:
X
At other times, I've altered text *in* photos to suit the accompanying
narrative. E.g., if I am describing a 5 step process and showing photos
of the steps and the device has a *time* display (e.g., "current time"),
I may have taken the photos in a different order *or* at different times
(e.g., "I should insert another illustration between #4 and #5").

I wouldn't want the resulting photo sequence to show the device indicating
10:00, 10:03, 10:05, 10:06, 08:23, 10:08 etc. So, I'll go back and edit
the 08:23 image to show 10:06 or 10:08. Or, even 10:07 if I can "find"
a '7' in some other image.

[Yeah, it's "anal retentive" -- but, I'm a stickler for these sorts of
details. If I'm narrating/illustrating a PROCESS, there shouldn't be
obvious discrepancies in that documentation!]

Most of my life I've been fine with doing things "good enough".

When I was working though I develop some pride and would always take that extra
step.

Eventually that "pride of workmanship" found it's way into my general way of
doing things...or at least part way.

I've always adopted the "do the best that I can" attitude in all my
endeavors. To me, this is easier -- I don't have to make a decision as
to what *specifically* is "good enough". How are you ever *sure* that
your decision was correct? That you've not fallen short? Or, overshot?

By contrast, "doing my best" lets me shrug in those cases where it
may not have been "enough": "Well, it's the best *I* could do..."

Anecdote:

In one of my digital (electronics) labs in school, for our "final project",
we each had to design and build something using the prototyping tools
available in the lab. *You* decided what you were going to design; *you*
decided how you would design it; *you* decided its functionality, etc.

There used to be an arcade (video) game called "Breakout". You controlled
a small "paddle" on the screen. A "ball" bounced off the edges of the
screen and, hopefully, your paddle (if it managed to get past you, that
"turn" was "over").

On the opposite edge of the screen was a wall of "bricks". Each time the
ball (deflected by your paddle!) hit a brick, the brick would disappear
and you'd get a point. The goal was to eliminate all of the bricks before
you'd run out of "turns".

[Pretty lame but this was the 70's...]

Another (earlier) game of this vintage was "Pong". Essentially, it was
"table tennis" -- two players (represented by two paddles) volleying to
keep a ball "in play" between them.

I opted to combine breakout with pong to make a double-player breakout.
I.e., TWO walls of bricks on opposite ends of the screen. A paddle
in front of each wall. So, *your* paddle "defended" your wall of
bricks; if you missed the ball, it would get past your paddle and
(typically) knock out one or more bricks -- giving *me* points! And,
vice versa. So, instead of missing the ball costing you a "turn", it
just cost you *points* -- once in play, the ball never left the playfield!

Professor came through the lab on "judgement day" evaluating each student's
project. I explained mine and he was quick to grab a "paddle" (controller)
and say, "Let's play!". I wasn't real eager to join in -- don't like
all those "eyes" (rest of class) watching me.

While I was standing there, idle, the ball was obviously getting past "my"
paddle pretty regularly. So, his score was mounting while mine was
essentially '0'. Still egging me on -- now with comments from the
peanut gallery -- he kept pressuring me to "play him".

I sighed, reached up and flipped a switch. *My* paddle turned to a solid
wall -- i.e., no way "I" could "miss" the ball! As if I was now an expert
player -- leaving *him* on the perpetual defensive (he can NEVER get
any points from the bricks that I've just "protected" -- yet *I* can get
points any time he misses the "return volley"!).

[Of course, this is really little more than a "single player" version
of the game -- it allows someone to play without a "human" counterpart
(knowing that the "machine" will NEVER MISS!)]

My fellow students thought this was great: professor is going to
LOSE in a very visible way!

Professor wasn't a fool; he reached up and turned the switch off,
restoring "my" paddle to its normal size and, once again, exposing
my bricks (allowing him to gain points).

Again egging me on -- and with an unspoken warning that I could no
longer resort to that "trick" -- he kept trying to get me to join
the play.

Being distracted, in the process, he missed the ball and it got
past his paddle and took out a brick or two of his. I quickly
reached up and flipped *another* switch: HIS paddle turned to a
solid wall! But, now the ball was trapped between that wall
and HIS BRICKS! In that tiny space, it very quickly "ate
through" most of the wall -- giving me LOTS of points!

The class thought this was great! Even better than the previous
"trick".

Professor froze. I could almost HEAR his thinking:
"I can understand adding the FIRST switch to allow a 'single player
mode'. But, what's the value of having the SECOND switch?"
He looked at me with that question OBVIOUS in his eyes. It was
obvious that he'd not considered that possibility -- just like he
hadn't considered the possibility of the FIRST switch! I just
smiled and answered, with my eyes, "Why NOT?".

His shoulders visibly fell as he conceded "defeat".

I.e., would ONE switch have been "good enough"? Or, perhaps
*no* switches? (i.e., you need two players to play) Adding
the second switch didn't FORCE it -- *or* the first switch -- to
be used, but left open that possibility!

Fortunately the deadline for me having my photos ready October but my goal is
to have the project completed well in advance.

Ah, "punctuality" is often the casualty in my approach. I'm always
rethinking my work to see if there was something I could have done
better. And, if there is, then I'm "forced" to fix it. :

I have three additional projects in the works and expect to have one more
complete within the next month.

My wife and I have self-published a number of books using Create Space.

I wrote a large, technical "user manual" many years ago (~600pp, several
hundred illustrations, fully indexed and cross-referenced, etc.). It
was the most challenging project I'd ever undertaken! *I* hadn't
designed the piece of equipment so the first part of the problem was trying
to understand the device in very intimate detail -- BEFORE I could lay
out an approach to the documentation. Then, having researched every aspect
of it's operation (uncovering scores of bugs in the process!), I had to
figure out how to make it feel like it SHOULD have been designed the
way that it was (though *I* would have taken an entirely different
approach). Finally, writing all the prose, making all the illustrations,
etc. All the while knowing any screwups *I* made would be very visible
to any reader!

Lots of things that I was unhappy with in the final product (but didn't
know how to "do better"). But, I figure it was well received as
customers were hearing about it through the grapevine and calling up
to "order a manual" (despite the fact that the device was delivered
*with* a manual -- just not THIS revised manual!)

The take away from that effort was that writing the manual BEFORE
designing the product is a huge win! It lets you imagine how the
user will interact with your device. If you are thorough, you will
discover all the "can't happen" situations while you are writing
and will know how to address them in the eventual design, later.
It forces you to do all your thinking "up front" and in a very
visible (to others) way. No surprises after-the-fact!

Having your own book is kind of the 21st century version of a business card.
They only cost $6 each or so.