Documentation is the castor oil of programming. The managers know it must be good, because programmers hate it so much. Gerald M. Weinberg

I used to be a strong believer in formal doc reviews. Distribute a draft, plan a meeting, and have everyone gather around the table. But in the last few years, my team has moved towards mostly meetingless reviews–because people hate review meetings (you know, like code reviews, only worse), because people haven’t always read the drafts when they get to the meeting, and because some of our dev team is overseas.

• First, we distributed PDFs and asked reviewers to submit comments in email or on a hard copy. For the overseas team, email was the only option. This is not fun for either the reviewer, who has to do a lot of copying and pasting and referring to page numbers, or for the writer.
• Then we tried Adobe Acrobat PDF reviews, which allowed all reviewers to comment on the same PDF and view others’ comments. This was a big improvement over the email method.
• Now that all of our product documentation is hosted on a MediaWiki-based site, we’ve asked reviewers to edit the pages themselves, or add comments to the Talk pages. This makes life much easier for both reviewers and writers.

Still, as Anne Gentle stresses in Conversation and Community, using a collaborative medium doesn’t guarantee that collaboration will happen.

How do we encourage developers and testers to “own” the documentation for their tools, and to think of help as part of the product? If we can get developers and testers to RTFM, the benefits are obvious. They understand the tools in a way that no one else does, so they’ll provide feedback that no one else can. And they’ll become familiar with the help for the tools they’re responsible for, so they’d know whether a change they’re making or testing would affect the help.

I thought up a few ways that might increase the amount of review feedback:

• Create review tasks in our Agile project tracking tool, XPlanner. A top-down approach, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Kinda like the daily castor oil treatment.
• Make everyone’s MediaWiki user page into their doc review page; we’d add links to these pages and reviewers would be notified through email, then they could delete the link when they’ve reviewed it. A nice bottom-up approach, I thought, in the spirit of the wiki.

But encouraging collaboration may be less about tools and more about process. If we involve reviewers earlier, they can tell us what they think before we’ve written a draft. A draft takes a long time to review, and if a reviewer doesn’t like it, they might not provide any feedback at all.

As Donna L. Davis says in a review of Andreas Rüping’s Agile Documentation:

Documentation isn’t bad. But bad documentation is terrible.

Is reviewing docs worse than eating Brussels sprouts? Do you review docs when asked, or do you hide the invitations under the edge of your plate, hoping mom won’t notice? Is the help so bad that you can’t be bothered? Are you just too busy? Are you one of those people who never consults the help for tools you use? Do you think your users will be able to use the tools you’re developing or testing without the docs?

What would make you more inclined to “own” the help for the tools you’re developing or testing?

The not-so-agile technical writer

I’m a technical writer who’s a big picture kind of person and that means agile development is sheer torture for me.

Going into my second agile project, I thought I would be able to go with the “flow” a bit more. I was wrong.

But, it’s important to point out that our documentation team hit all of our deadlines for new features, while substantially rewriting our help set and moving it to a wiki. I’m pleased with the outcome, but the trip was not pleasant.

This will be my first post in a series about technical writing in an agile environment. Today’s post outlines the obstacles that I face—aspects of being me (mostly). The next post will outline my coping mechanisms, as well as our team’s plan for our next project.

If there’s no follow-up post, that means that my unbridled honesty has gotten my keester kicked to the curb.

Waterfall nostalgia

I got started on this tech writing gig as a consultant. The product would be a month or two away from release, but mostly fleshed out and I’d swan in, grab the requirements documentation and the design specifications (sometimes I’d write those), play around with the tool and voilà: a manual. I could be very single minded about what I was writing and just get it done.

To be clear, I’m in no way saying that the waterfall method delivered better products or documentation, just that I had a better view of where we were going.

With agile, I feel like I’m jumping hither and yon doing all these minute tasks, with very little view of how they’re supposed to fit together. I’d often snarl to my manager after meetings that “I’m given a doorknob, a shingle and a shrub and told to go build a house with them.”

In fact, in his blog post about minimalist documentation and agile, Shannon Greywalker hits on my problem very accurately, and it’s this: “user stories are typically too granular” for minimalist documentation. Minimalist documentation, as he says, requires the “35,000 foot view”.

And what I want runs counter to the whole agile methodology: THE BIG PICTURE RIGHT NOW.

Multi-tasking versus uni-tasking

Another problem I face is that I’m a uni-tasker; I like to finish what I start—not doable when features span several development iterations and are in major flux.

There are blogs out there about what Generation Y is like, good or bad, but the one thing I do envy is their multi-tasking ability. These folks grew up doing homework, while downloading music and instant messaging their friends.

That’s the kind of splintered attention I envy. So, I got David Allen’s book, Getting Things Done, but I couldn’t finish it. I read the line about having “a mind like water” and then froze. Uh-oh. Mind like ice. When I think of my work and personal to-do lists, I’m paralyzed.

So, I signed up for meditation classes and I’m now making another attempt to read Getting Things Done. I’m hoping it’ll help me switch directions faster. Not easy when you feel like the Titanic and need an hour’s notice to hang left. Now that I think about it, the Titanic is a career-limiting metaphor.

Procrastination

Now it’s time for confession. Our documentation department fought for and won a two-week offset for our last two projects. Yep, that’s right, we trailed development by a two-week iteration.  It’s amazing that we haven’t been rounded up and thrown in agile jail.

By procrastinating this way, we hoped that features would be more fleshed out before we started writing about them. It was our vain hope that this would contain some of the rewriting efforts. We still did a lot of rewriting, but this round we were rewriting a lot of material for the wiki anyway, so the offset didn’t matter that much.

By now, you’re probably thinking that it must be very hard being me. Don’t cry for me, Costa Rica; I have ways of getting by. Tune in whenever the next post surfaces to find out how I cope and how I hope to improve.

Our new documentation wiki is up and running!

For awhile it seemed like we’d never do it. We have a team white board that records our panic level, and for several weeks, the level was up around “hysterical” and “wanting to open my own daycare”.

We also have a white board in front of the doc area, in a hallway where everyone walks by to get to the kitchen.  At one point when we were particularly frustrated with MediaWiki, the topic was “names for the new doc wiki”. A few good suggestions:

the gaping maw, or "the wiki is never done"

And the best one, though we decided it would be unprofessional to make it official:

RTFW

Fortunately, when I was ready to throw in the towel, our IT guy stepped into the ring and beat MediaWiki into submission. He installed extension after extension, found a search engine that worked for us, and configured a great PDF creator. He moved the entire Wiki a few times to improve performance and security. And he was much more tolerant of the state of MediaWiki’s documentation than I was.

So, if you’re a small documentation team thinking of moving to a Wiki, what do you need to make it work?

• Someone outside the doc team needs to handle the technical side, so you still have time to do what you do best: write user documentation. In our case, besides IT, one of our senior developers ended up learning more than he probably wanted to about MediaWiki. He made the wiki the source for context-sensitive help for detected issues; each of these wiki pages allows you to switch from English to Japanese. Some of our users have no access to the internet, so he also wrote a script that exports the wiki to static html for packaging with Klocwork software.
• Read blog entries like Tom Johnson’s Ramping Up on MediaWiki to remind you that you’re doing the right thing.
• When the voices in your head whisper that it’s impossible to both switch your help delivery mechanism and reorganize/rewrite the entire help system in just a few months, take a pill or something.
• When your inner perfectionist rears its ugly head, repeat this mantra: The wiki is never done. The wiki is never done.

In the end, despite feeling like we were being drawn kicking and screaming into the gaping maw of hell, we love our wiki, and we hope our users will too. And users, if you don’t like it, you can change it!

Going beyond "getting started"

“Now what?” is that uncharted territory between “Getting Started” product guides and the challenge of incorporating a new tool into day-to-day activities.

In fact, I’m convinced that “Now what?” is one of many creatures inferred by the “Here be monsters” legend inscribed on uncharted regions of old nautical maps.

I think of it like this: You buy an exciting adventure package to Costa Rica. You put your money down. The tour operator hands you a map. And then you end up…in Holland.

Time to call your emergency number:

You: “Can you help me out? I was supposed to go to Costa Rica and I followed the directions, but I’m in Holland.

Customer support: “Let’s go over what happened and take a look at the directions.”

Customer support reviews your actions and examines the map. (They are incredibly patient, discerning and resilient people, these customer support types.)

Customer support: “It appears that you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque (except it’s pronounced Albekoiky).”

Then you’re put on the right road. A problem report gets logged against the map-makers to clear up whatever ambiguity there was. Now you and future travelers can end up at the intended destination.

Excellent.

“Okay. I’m in Costa Rica. Now what?”

Exactly.

This is an issue sales engineers frequently encounter in the field. It is also something that Geoff Babb touched on in his response to Helen’s post, “Exposing our soft underbellies“,  about moving documentation to a wiki.

Useful examples are great, but finding the right scenario can be difficult, particularly when customers can range from a couple of guys in their basements to companies with thousands of developers.

With a large documentation set, it’s difficult to keep up with new features and include scenarios that are relevant to everyone—a major rewriting effort indeed.

During a meeting where we presented our documentation plan for moving to a wiki, “Now what?” showed up again.

I don’t remember putting “Now what?” on the list of invitees. But it appears that there’s no stopping that beast.

Our move to a wiki means rewriting a helluva lot of material anyway. Might as well take on the beast.