interviews: holzschlag, molly
Studio B: You've been a Web designer since the first days of the Web, and you've worked for some hot companies (BrainBug New Media, DesertNet, The Microsoft Network). What turned your head away from design and toward writing?
Molly: Actually I've been a professional writer longer than I've been a designer. I fell into Web design by some kind of divine mishap.
To say that my head turned away from design would be inaccurate. It's death to not remain as current as possible with the subject matter I'm writing about, and therefore I continue to do design work despite the fact that I have a full career as an author now, too.
It would be more correct to say that my head was turned away from being a member of a company. While I love interacting with other designers and technologists, I hate being an administrator. I'm much more interested in arranging paper than pushing it, as evidenced by the creative stacks on and around my desk.
Studio B: Your writing has been in turns called "visionary" and "kitsch." To what do you ascribe the disparity?
Molly: When I was 15 I would show my poetry to people. Some would pat me on the head and say, "oh, that's nice." I decided then and there that I never wanted to hear that. Hate me or love me, but don't pass me over!
I'm outspoken, a Jersey girl. Although I'm happily ensconced in the desert now, I have attitude, and it shows. It's a good attitude, it's idealistic, very much about supporting designers emotionally as well as technically. But it is attitude, which either excites or repels people. At least one of my books, the Laura Lemay Guide to Sizzling Web Site Design, is unlike anything that's ever been attempted. I can't thank Sams.Net enough for supporting that project, because it really is the type of book you're going to love or hate, and reviewers have let me know that that's exactly where it stands. But that makes me proud, because I'm achieving that love-me or hate-me thing I've been looking for since I was a kid.
As long as no one attempts to pat me on the head, I'm happy.
Studio B: Of your titles, the two most recent are within the Laura Lemay series from Sams.Net. How do you feel about working as a series author?
Molly: Let me very clearly start out by saying that I have utmost respect for Laura Lemay and her work. I, like so many designers, learn from her vast knowledge and use the resources she has created daily. But, due to logistics, I never had the opportunity to work with her personally.
Realistically, seeing another's name 10 or more point sizes larger than yours on a book that you labored over—well, it sucks. There are few people that can honestly say they don't want to be acknowledged for their own ideas.
That results in uncomfortable situations. Reviews and feedback that give the series editor rather than the author credit for the unique ideas or presentation—questions like "What was it like to work with Laura Lemay?" or "What parts of this book did you write?"—all of these situations have really stretched my diplomatic skills. I've had to swallow the emotional issues in order to answer questions kindly but honestly—and fairly. This isn't Laura's fault, or Sams' fault. It's the nature of the circumstances, plain and simple.
Fortunately, the up side is very up! A named series is a great place to be when you're good but green. You learn about the business, how to write better at high speeds, you do your trial by fire and prove your worth. It gives you a chance to get some credibility, and to see your books sell pretty well, which is gratifying. So I'm grateful to have had the opportunity, and never want to discredit that.
Studio B: You talk about attitude and opinions. These are computer books! Is there really a place for attitude and opinion in books like this?
Molly: These are not computer books. These are Web books, and design books, and technology books, and that computers are a part of the pie is just that—they are parts and not the whole. The Web is an environment where almost anything goes. It's an atmosphere that conceivably challenges everything about us: our morals, esthetics, knowledge, skills, and even our physiology. I believe that's intense stuff, not some light Web Surfin' Fun.
Web designers have to stand with one foot in the land of creativity and the other in that of science. They also need to understand how to think in both the familiar linear process as well as the Web's non-linear climate. This is challenging to many people, because we are not enculturated to be so multi-faceted.
I want to remind people why the Web has the potential to be an evolutionary force in the unfolding of human history. My brother Linus calls me the PBS of the Web—because I maintain sight of the global community and the higher good—even when talking about commercial endeavors.
I write about the Web because it turns me on. I write for people because I genuinely love them and want the best for the world in which I live. So I have to bring the humanity into it, even if it is in bits and pieces, here and there, tucked behind the driest code and stuck in between all the tech jargon.
That means keeping an edge—my attitudes and opinions about the Web, and about humanity, as available as possible—no matter how unpopular or uncomfortable that might be for myself or for others. For some reason a lot of people think that being this idealistic is flaky or inappropriate for the subject matter, others are very obviously hungry for the personal touch between the code. One way to keep the edge and yet lighten up the environment is by maintaining a good sense of humor and a strong voice. I take the Web extremely seriously—but I also keep my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, or otherwise it all becomes cumbersome.
Studio B: How do you pronounce your last name?
Molly: Very carefully.
Seriously, a ten-letter German name with only two vowels challenges the most vocally skilled. I've sat around for years trying to think of another name to use and I never feel right about anything else. This is my name, I love it. You will too, when you find out what it means.
First, a lesson in pronunciation. Sound it out: Whole - Shlag. Not a half - shlag. A Whole Shlag. There, that wasn't too hard, now, was it?
Its significance? It means "Wood Cutter." For an author, there aren't too many more appropriate names now, are there?
