Genius in writing

One fantasy author I read has a habit of ending each of his books with an Author's Note, which I usually avoid because it's inevitably a whinge about how the world is so unfair and no one recognises the true genius of his work. Due to an unexpected lack of reading material, I read one of his Notes today; and sure enough, he was whinging about critics and their lack of undestanding. His books are more than just a fairly readable plot; they have a *deep* and *subtle* layer which illustrates important points about his worldview, and that makes them *genius*.

Well, no, sorry, it doesn't. Genius - in fiction at least - isn't when reading gives me insight into your worldview. It's when it gives me insight into mine; when your words give form to something in my mind, capturing it for me so that I can understand myself better.

This principle translates to the web. Don't spend pages telling me what's great about what you do, or explaining the deep and subtle genius of your product; I truly don't care (and anyway, if it's so great and genius-like, can't it speak for itself?). Make your website about me.

At a basic level, this means telling me what you can do for me - simply, and on the clear understanding that my needs are *way* more important than yours. Give me the freedom to make up my own mind about you and your product. And, if you really want to be subtle, make it seem as if the website is reading my mind, putting what was in my head into concrete clickable form.

How to do this? Make me (or others like me) a part of everything you do. Find out what I like, what I respond to, what I want to do on your site. Find out what makes me happy, and see if you can give me it - for free (and I mean no strings attached - if I have to sign up for it, it's not free even if I'm not paying a penny). The only way you'll get that "read-your-mind" feel is if you make your users needs and wants the primary drivers for your website.

Now that's genius.