Consider the tale of Jumber Okruashvili, devoted professor of something-or-other at a major American research university . . . . In 1989, Professor Jumber Okruashvili had a religious experience, technically speaking. While milling about the computing center of a major research university, he glimpsed the future. There, glowing brightly on a small, small Apple Macintosh screen, were the first genomes of what we today know and love as multimedia. Professor Okruashvili was an instant believer. He had seen the future and it knocked his socks off. Barefoot and inspired, Jumber endeavored to do what few academics dared to do: He embraced untested technology. He saw the future of education as dynamic, interactive and clearly electronic. He set in his mind a great project, one with a noble mission and an awe-inspiring goal. Jumber wanted to publish a scholarly, educational, interactive multimedia extravaganza in a startling new medium called CD-ROM.
Actually, Jumber had a simpler objective at the start. All he wanted to do was find a way to further engage his students in the subject he loved. Clearly, computers were a happening thing in the late '80s. The university was buying them up like tie-dye T-shirts at a Grateful Dead concert and students were fighting for time in the new gathering place, the computer lab. Further, Apple had released HyperCard, a programming environment perfectly suited for the development of multimedia. Jumber gathered some ace computer tinkerers along with some bright students and set forth to produce a floppy disk full of computer wizardry.
The future looked bright. Jumber would be heralded as a genius. His software would win accolades both in the classroom and with his peers. It would be better than any textbook. It would be cheaper to produce and be in higher demand. Book publishers would love it. Everyone would love it. Everyone would love Jumber. He and his team would win status, fame and perhaps a fortune on the inevitable blockbuster sales. Jumber envisioned a MacArthur award, and in the ultimate fantasy, a Nobel Prize in the newly established field of Multimedia Design! Yes, the future looked very bright, indeed. Alas, Jumber was only dreaming.
If you are an educator and you plan to produce an educational CD-ROM for today's market, you are a lunatic. Now, that's not necessarily a bad thing (who are we to judge?), but it's true. If you think you have what it takes to put a lifetime of hard work into the next phase of publication, into the digital domain, into the future, you might as well quit your job, roll up your pants and have a large "L" tattooed on your forehead; not for "loser" but, quite appropriately, for "lunatic." We're not saying that it can't be done. In fact, we don't know if it can be done. We can't find anybody who has done it. But, we do know that the process, at least for an educator, will drive you nuts.
With this in mind, we would like to offer you a few helpful hints. Consider it our Top Ten list of do's and don'ts. And we're a reliable source. We continue to do a lot of things and still don't get published. So, pull up a chair and pay close attention. Perhaps you can learn from our, and Jumber's, experience.
1. Whatever you do, DON'T tell your peers what you're up to. You're bucking the system. CD-ROMs don't count as publications. Paper, glue and buckram are venerated materials; plastic and silicon are not. Producing a CD-ROM won't advance your tenure status. To your peers, you appear to be working very hard and enjoying yourself. This makes them nervous. You obviously have something up your sleeve. Moreover, there's no one ahead of you in the field to certify your work as a "contribution." There's no peer review and no accepted way to cite your work in standard academic publications. If you're really good, you might get a review in Wired magazine. Your colleagues may take a brief interest in your work and then justifiably write you off as a lunatic.
2. DO tell your students. They'll think it's cool. It will make them stand up and take notice. They'll be more interested in the materials and, miraculously, the subject matter. They might even learn more. You'll have flashy presentations and mention the Internet a lot. They'll think you're hip. They'll say things like, "That Professor Okruashvili, what a lunatic!"
3. DO tell your peers about the importance of multi-modal learning. Most people remember only some of what they see. They remember more of what they see and hear. It naturally follows that students will remember even more of what they see, hear and do. Slowly, in a calm, firm voice explain that that's what interactive multimedia is all about. Don't get too excited or they'll think you're a lunatic.
4. DON'T tell your students about those studies. They'll get very upset at the end of the course when they realize all that they've learned. In retrospect, as they review the vast quantity of material they've covered, they'll think that you were a slave-driving lunatic.
5. DON'T tell your book publisher that CD-ROMs are going to replace books because they won't. Nobody likes to curl up with a good CD-ROM, at least not yet. Certainly don't tell your book publisher that CD-ROMs will help sell more books. They will nod their heads and smile agreeably, just as one smiles at a certifiable lunatic.
6. DON'T tell computer gurus that you want to publish your project in HyperCard. HyperCard is a clear and well thought-out programming environment that anyone can master. Everyday people can program in HyperCard. Consequently, you won't employ scores of computer nerds to write and debug your code. Any true computer hacker will tell you that if your program isn't written in C++, it isn't a good program. Just imagine what would happen to the auto industry if we could all fix our own cars. When you tell computer mechanics that HyperCard can do everything that you want, they will laugh so hard all their pens will fall out of their pocket protectors. Then they will call you a lunatic.
7. DON'T tell book publishers that you want to publish your project in HyperCard. HyperCard currently only runs on Macintoshes. Even though educational software is now a $500 million a year market, book publishers can't possibly imagine making any money off a Macintosh product. Don't tell them that Macintoshes make up the single largest segment of multimedia-capable computers in the world. Don't tell them that a higher percentage of Macintosh users buy CD-ROMs with any regularity. Don't tell them that it is extraordinarily difficult to make a Windows CD-ROM that actually works. Certainly don't tell them that it is worth their while to pay for porting your HyperCard project over to Windows. If you don't have a "ready for publication" Windows application, already pressed to CD-ROM, they will think that you are a lunatic.
8. DON'T look for an agent. Remember that you are ahead of the wave. Book agents with any influence don't represent multimedia authors today. We state this categorically because we have attempted to beat down the doors or wear out the telephones of the few who claim to be on the digital side of the business. When you think of contacting an agent, remember the old joke: Question: "How many talent agents does it take to change a light bulb?" Answer: "I'll get back to you." Also, don't expect the same agent who represented your last book to help out much either. That would be like asking your friendly neighborhood insurance agent to insure your spaceship. He or she will politely decline and later joke with pals, "I have this one client, heh heh heh, what a lunatic . . . . "
9. DO tell your Dean what you're up to. Give the Dean a demo if you can. Better yet, give the Dean a knock-out demo. If your Dean is smart and ambitious, the experience may spark the revelation that text, video and audio, linked in a friendly and understandable way, will transform the business of higher education. Deans and other administrators will soon learn how to talk the talk of multimedia and distance learning and fit these subjects into their usual issues of scholarship, tenure and FTEs. Then, and only then, will your superiors and colleagues begin to see the light. Remember, if you think you can lead a horse by pulling on its tail, you're a lunatic.
10. DON'T despair. Perhaps this is the most unconventional recommendation of the list. Multimedia developers in higher education are crazy to begin with. They are outsiders in a clubby, conventional, ideologically pure world. Most academics aspire to win the praise-and perhaps the envy-of their colleagues. Most calculate that the only way to the top of the hill is to follow the rules, not to break them. Thus, too often the field of educators is divided along the lines of those who play along and those who don't. Obviously, the key here is to do what you love and what you think is best for your students. If you aim to do what's best for your future, multimedia is probably not a good idea.
For us, and Jumber, multimedia development is a passion. It feeds our interests and has a dramatic, positive effect on our students. It has not yet brought laurels of academic respectability, but at least it makes us, and Jumber, happy little lunatics.
David Andrew is a multimedia developer with INNOVA Studios. [email protected] or <http://www.innovastudio.com>. Jerry Goldman is a political scientist at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. [email protected]