Two years ago, I started writing a book. Not because I thought the world needed another UX book — there are plenty of good ones. I started writing because, after twenty years of designing digital products, I realized I kept repeating the same five conversations with junior designers, product managers, and stakeholders.

The same misconceptions. The same gaps. The same moments where projects go sideways not because of bad design, but because of a missing foundation.

So I decided to write it all down.

The book nobody asked for

Let me be honest: nobody asked me to write a book. There was no publisher knocking at my door, no audience demanding it. I wrote it because I needed to organize my own thinking.

Twenty years of experience is worth nothing if you can't articulate what you've learned. You might have strong instincts, but instincts don't scale. They don't survive your absence from a project. They don't help the next designer who joins your team.

Writing forced me to separate what I actually know from what I only think I know. That distinction turned out to be humbling.

Why 88 days?

The title isn't arbitrary. When I structured the content, I organized it into daily learning units — one concept per day, each building on the previous. Not because you can become a UX designer in 88 days (you absolutely cannot), but because structure creates momentum.

Every chapter starts with a principle, follows with a real-world example, and ends with a reflection prompt. The idea is that you read one section per day, let it sit, and see how it connects to your own work.

88 days covers three phases:

  • Days 1–30: Attitude — How you think about design before you open any tool. Empathy, humility, the difference between solving problems and decorating solutions.
  • Days 31–60: Clarity — Research, synthesis, decision-making. How to ask better questions, how to know when you have enough data, and how to communicate findings to people who don't speak design.
  • Days 61–88: Structure — Systems, patterns, processes. How to build things that last beyond your current sprint, your current project, your current role.

Five lessons the book taught me

Writing a book about UX design taught me more about UX design than twenty years of practice. Here's what I didn't expect.

1. Simplicity is a result, not a starting point

I've told designers to "keep it simple" hundreds of times. But writing forced me to confront how vague that advice is. Simple for whom? Simple compared to what? Simple at what cost?

The book made me redefine simplicity as the result of deep understanding, not a design principle you apply from the outside.

2. Process is personal

Every UX book prescribes a process: discover, define, develop, deliver. Double diamonds and design sprints. But after watching dozens of designers work, I realized the best ones don't follow a process — they've internalized one and then adapted it to their context.

The book doesn't prescribe a process. It offers building blocks and lets you assemble your own.

3. Writing is designing

The act of writing a book is remarkably similar to designing a product. You start with research (reading, interviewing). You synthesize (outlining, structuring). You prototype (drafts). You test (feedback from early readers). You iterate.

The parallels aren't metaphorical — they're methodological. If you can design a product, you can write a book. The tools are different, the thinking is the same.

4. German was the right choice

I wrote the book in German. Not because I can't write in English, but because the design community in the DACH region (Germany, Austria, Switzerland) is underserved. Most UX literature is in English, and while many designers read English fluently, there's a difference between reading in a second language and truly absorbing ideas.

The feedback confirmed this: readers appreciated not just the content, but the fact that it met them where they are.

5. A book is a design system

A book needs consistent typography, a clear hierarchy, repeating patterns, and enough variation to stay engaging. It needs a voice that's recognizable across 300 pages. It needs to handle edge cases (complex topics, controversial opinions) with the same grace as the standard ones.

Sound familiar? A book is a design system for ideas.

What readers tell me

The most rewarding feedback isn't about the book itself — it's about what people did after reading it. A product manager who started asking better research questions. A junior designer who found the confidence to push back on a feature request. A developer who said the book helped them understand why designers care about things that seem invisible.

That's the goal. Not to create UX designers, but to create better conversations between everyone who builds products.

Should you read it?

If you're a designer with 0–5 years of experience, this book will give you a foundation that takes most people a decade to build. If you're a senior designer, it might help you articulate what you already know intuitively. And if you work with designers — as a PM, developer, or stakeholder — it will help you understand why we do what we do.

The best time to build a foundation is before you need it. The second best time is now.

The book is available in German. An English edition is something I'm considering, but for now, "UX Design in 88 Tagen" is where this story lives.

Curious about the book? Find it here, or connect with me on LinkedIn to chat about UX, design, and everything in between.