Why I use Zazzle

Several years ago, a friend asked me to create what would turn out to be one of my most popular designs.  At the time, I was only using CafePress, so I put it up there for her to buy. She really wanted it on a different shirt style, and asked if I could set it up on Zazzle.

“It’s free?  Sure, why not?”

It’s taken me a few years, but I’ve come to appreciate far more about Zazzle than just “it’s free”:

  • Fine control over image placement
    Zoom in, rotate, shift, flip, multiple images, add text …
  • Customer customization of items
    This opens up a whole lot of item options, like business cards, invitations, and more. You just provide the image templates.
    Even better, it’s optional – you can disable it on a per product basis for things you want to have printed exactly like you designed them.
  • More item types than you can shake a stick at
    Sneakers.  Posters. Business cards. A panoply of tshirt styles and colors. Speakers.  Skateboards.
  • One product on your page for all styles of that item
    Other sites (*cough*CafePress*cough*) make you create eleventy thousand separate products, one for each possible shirt style.  Zazzle lets you put your design on “all shirts”, “all light shirts”, “all dark shirts”, or even just this one exact particular shirt.  Same for buttons, stamps, and all their other multi-style items.
  • Set your own royalty markups
    … that don’t get overridden for the marketplace.  This is good news for artists who want a bit more for their work.
  • Free shops
    Just sayin’.  You can now have multiple shops under the same email login, so you can put your fine art in one shop and your nerd shirts in another.
  • Serious promotional tools
    From banners to WordPress widgets to their Store Builder that lets you turn your website (or a Page) into a Zazzle store.  Zazzle wants you to sell stuff, wherever and however it works for you, not just them.

If someone wanted to add some merchandise to their website, but didn’t want to deal with inventory and fulfillment … Zazzle has become the site I would recommend.

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Bad Data Point goes to Portland

Me by a Zen garden at the Japanese Garden in PortlandI recently went on a week long visit to Portland, Oregon, meeting up with my sister and the extended family. It was uncharacteristically warm and sunny the entire time (well, other than the trip to the coast).

I was a bit of a shutterbug during the trip – though I’m pretty lousy at the normal “holiday snaps” where the object is to take pictures of all the people doing all the silly things that people do when they’re being tourists.  I go in more for macro photography, architecture, playing with light and texture, landscapes, and documenting the everloving heck out of museums (I take photos of the plaques, for cryin’ out loud).  This photo (taken by my mom with my camera), where I’m sporting my Carbivore shirt at the Portland Japanese Garden, is one of the few that’s actually of people.

For being a group of seven adults and seven kids, we did quite a bit …

  • Saw the Spruce Goose, which lives at the only air and space museum with a waterpark
  • Visited the Tillamook Cheese Factory, which has got to be terribly creepy to work at, what with people staring at you all day
  • Checked out the International Rose Test Garden
  • Drank in the Portland Japanese Garden
  • Got my feet wet in the freakin’ Pacific Ocean, which I hadn’t gotten to touch in years
  • Sailed on the Columbia River (ok, ok, ‘motored’ … but it’s also a sailboat!)

Sadly, we didn’t quite make time for Powell’s (other than me visiting the micro-one in the airport) or the Portland Saturday Market, so there’s definitely reasons to go back

I’m still going through the 300+ photos that I took to see if any of them will make the cut for my photo prints shop.  Other than giant cameras, that is the biggest trick I know of that professional photographers use – take a bajillion photos and some of them will come out right.  A good chunk of them will only be for my personal enjoyment and for practice, due to restrictions by the park(s) involved, but I take photos primarily for my own joy anyway.

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Holding the Pattern (456)

In a small room, she stood at the center of a pattern of cards, a swirl of symbols and faces pooling out around her.  She spun slowly, looking at each one, and holding the pattern in her mind.

Somewhere in the pattern, she was sure there was a solution, a way out.

There had to be.

She held the pattern in her mind and followed every path of meaning she could devise.

She took a deep breath, looked up.  The candles in the corners flickered softly, reflecting themselves in the glass of the windows, hiding the darkness.  Outside, surely the stars still shone.

She had tried them first.

She ran a hand through her hair, the few silver strands among the black twinkling in the candlelight.  The stars had taken, but not answered.

Kneeling now, she looked at the cards anew.  There was something about it, just a tiny bit larger than she could hold in her mind.  Her hand reached out, touched the cards, one after another, following the loops made in the pattern.

Her fingers knew before she did.

A word.

She stood up again, holding the pattern in her mind.  Her hand held out before her tracing in the air as she slowly turned again, the word repeating over and over without end.

Dance.

She shook her head.  It wasn’t a solution, and she needed one.  Needed a way out, a break in the pattern.  A way out of the pattern her life had fallen into.

The cards had no further answer.  She looked and held and knelt until the candles, one by one, flickered and then went out, spent.

She sat in the middle of the room, her hand on the first card in the pattern.

She held the pattern in her mind, a tiny voice repeating as it traced the pattern she held.

Dance.

Dance.

Dance.

Until slowly she got back to her feet, and began to follow the cadence of the repeating voice.  Her arms lifted and began to trace the pattern she held in her mind. Each time round the pattern, she could feel it changing.  The voice filled her mind, and the feeling of movement consumed her, until she danced heedless of the cards under her feet.

She danced to rhythm she more felt than heard until she fell, spent. She felt, more than saw, the cards scattered in a new pattern with one card alone before the door. She picked it up, knowing it as all the answer her reading could give her, but more certain that the answer was in her heart all along.

She opened the door, leaving the rest behind.

Outside, the stars still shone.  Their light fell softly on the path before her.

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Humor is a harsh mistress

I recently sat down and re-read for the Nth time one of the four Heinlein books I keep around – The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.  It’s chock full of stuff to think about and talk about for days and days, but the one still floating around in my head this time around is humor.  It’s kind of amusing, actually, that half of the Heinlein I keep around touches meaningfully on the topic of humor, since most folks would tell you that Heinlein’s most important thoughts are about relationship dynamics, sex, and politics; but humor is a part of human nature that underlies and informs all of those.

For anyone who hasn’t read it, there’s a self-aware computer who starts making up jokes (like issuing a payroll check for $10trillion + the correct amount), but doesn’t know if they’re actually funny.  The main character offers to go through and rate them in batches into three important categories: not funny, funny-once, and funny-always.

Note: This isn’t exactly a spoiler – I mean, it’s in the first ten pages.

The idea of funny being divided up by how many times it’s funny is pretty interesting and kind of useful, even if it varies between individuals (or between various demographics).  It cuts right across all the types of humor, from wit to slapstick. Some wit is the kind that is utterly transient and depends on so much context that it is meaningless to anyone who wasn’t there, while others are the kind that become quotations and aphorisms for years to come.

Despite what one might think is implied by this division, I don’t think either is inherently better – it’s just critical to know what goal you’re trying to achieve and which one will get you there.

Snowclones can be one of the hardest things to work with to make funny-always.  One of the chief beauties of a snowclone, and what makes them proliferate so strongly is that it’s really easy to play on what’s expected and twist it just a bit.  You’re playing the surprise card.  And most of the time, that means it’s funny-once.  The next time you invoke that same surprise, it’s just not as surprising.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s good for a laugh in a conversation or a blog post.  To make a  snowclone that stands up to repetition (say, to put on a tshirt), takes more work, though.  It needs to tie in not only to the origin phrase, but into something with its own history, culture, and values.

This is why I roll my eyes at “I [shamrock] Guinness” but giggle every time I see “I [food cart] street food” (via snowclones.org).  Conjoining beer with trite stereotypes is dull as ditchwater, coming off as no more than bland consumer culture; the food cart, however, opens up a dialogue about America’s food culture.  This kind of cultural tie-in is also one of the reasons that “Ask your doctor if getting off your ass is right for you” is one of my best-selling designs – it begs the reader to think about pharmaceuticals, how they are advertised to us, and whether that’s really such a good thing after all.

It’s a tricky line, though … what has lasting humor for one person gets a bare chuckle from others (or I might sell more “Will exchange money for goods and services” shirts).

What things do you find funny-always?

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The Greatest Trick …

One of my favorite movies ever is The Usual Suspects.  One of the more quoteable lines is:

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing people he didn’t exist.

It’s this line that comes to mind over and over when I read about the economy and the Tea Party and folks screaming that we “need” to strip assistance programs that make life survivable by the many folks who are working hard in jobs that simply don’t pay enough to have a roof and food.

The money’s out there, but everyone’s looking the wrong direction … because there is so much more money to be kept in the hands of the rich by riling up the middle class to look somewhere else.

The greatest trick the rich ever pulled was convincing the middle class that the poor is their enemy.

Now available on CafePress and Zazzle.

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Tea Time (63)

Everything goes down better with a spot of tea.  A bad day at work, stubbing your toe in the dark, getting thrown in jail by uniformed thugs.

I mean, it’s bad enough the fellow had emptied his safe this afternoon and worse that I can hardly feel the bruises for my broken foot, but the lack of tea is simply appalling.

Bloody yanks.

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