Clarke Ching - Rolling Rocks Downhill: The Agile Business Novel that NEVER mentions Agile

Copyright 2018 by Clarke Ching

All rights reserved by the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

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Youve seen this movie before. Youre on a project. Youve been told to work faster, better, and cheaper. No more pick two out of three. No. You need to deliver all three out of three. Especially the faster part.

Maybe one of your teammates or someone in management has the bright idea that maybe transitioning to agile or lean will help. Maybe it does in some small way. But, its not enough. Youre on a death march, iteration by iteration. Or, with your board, you can see that you are making progress, but youre not working fast enough.

Or, youre not delivering what your customers need. Youre still trying to do it all. Why? Because it takes you forever to release anything.

You know theres another piece to this. You just dont know what.

You need to read Clarke Chings Rolling Rocks Downhill.

Clarke delivers the goods with this business novel. You can see how Steve, our hero, learns about small batches, reducing work in progress, and bottlenecks. You can see how managements typical motivations, such as management by objectives, doesnt work in a team-based complex adaptive system, such as a software project.

Learn how Steve, a middle manager, who is part of the dysfunctional system, learns about small batch sizes, work in progress, and bottlenecks. He slowly learns what they do wrong. He makes changes slowlyjust as you would in real life. The teams learn how to change slowly, just as they would in real life.

His management doesnt understand whats going on. They alternately threaten and reinforce his efforts. I see this occur all the time. The teams are so tired of working the old way, they are ready to try anything, because they cant stand the idea of another death march project and being blamed for failure.

And, because you see all of this, you will root for the teams success, as I did. Youll understand the mutiny, when the project manager pushes the team one too many times. And, if you have not seen the magic of how agile, lean and Theory of Constraints can actually work in organizations, you might be surprised when the team pulls off the impossible.

You might think this is impossible, or because its a business novel, this is fiction. Its not. Ive seen and coached normal people, on normal teams, working normal hours, as they transition to working in this way, complete projects again and again. Clarke shows you the secret sauce.

Do you want a way out of your insanity? Is it time for you to learn how to take control of your projects, and learn how you can release a product your customers want, when you want to release it, a product that works?

You can. Read Clarkes Rolling Rocks Downhill. You will have many aha moments. You will say, Now I get it! This book will change how you look at projects and what you think you can do about the predicament you are in.

Use the ideas here. Dont start another death march project. If you find yourself in another impossible project, where your management wants it faster, better, cheaper, use this book. You will limit your work in progress, make your chunks of work small, and find your bottlenecks (to name just three of the tools) to make your project possible, instead of impossible. You dont need to be extraordinary. You need to be diligent.

Have fun reading. I did.

Johanna Rothman, author of Jolt Productivity award-winning Manage It! Your Guide to Modern, Pragmatic Project Management

Arlington, Massachusetts

I love the smell of jet lag first thing in the morning. It smells of bacon and eggs and comes with the best-tasting coffee in the world. The bacon comes from across the water in Belfast. The eggs, though, are grown locally in Watt's Bridge, and they're cooked by Luca, whose Dad moved to Scotland from Italy after the Second World War, opening first a fish and chip shop and then later the deli and cafe where I sat, my brain craving Luca's espresso. Step one in my three-step jet lag recovery program.

Luca slid up to my table, leaned over and gently placed a glass of cold water and an espresso cup in front of me. "Steve, my friend, where are you back from this time?"

"Singapore," I said. "Another technology conference."

He tut-tutted, as if he disapproved of all my air miles, or my work-life balance. Or, more likely, both. I was a regular early-morning customer. "You want your usual?" he asked.

I said, "Yes, please," and he slipped away.

I looked around the room as I sipped coffee. Three of the dozen tables were occupied by nightshift staff from nearby Watt's Bridge Hospital. Two police officers sat at another, their radios chattering in the background, and a half dozen cab drivers crowded two tables near the windows, watching over their cars in the rank outside. The walls were covered in black-and-white framed pictures of the "old country."

And then my mobile rang.

I glanced at its screen. Phil McDermott, my chief programmer and best friend since I was thirteen. It was 5:26 a.m. Phil had never been a morning person. Very strange.

I answered. "You okay?"

"You're back from Singapore today, right? I got the date right didn't I?"

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"You're in Luca's, for breakfast?"

"Yep. What's up?"

"I'll be there in about two minutes. I've got bad news, Steve. Can you order me breakfast? Please. And coffee. Lots of coffee."

He hung up.

I turned and spied Luca standing behind the large, stainless steel and glass counter. He was writing the lunch specials on a chalkboard. He saw me looking, rushed over and said my breakfast was less than a minute away.

"Can you cook me up another breakfast, same order? Phil's joining me. And I'll need a couple more double espressos."

He paused, glanced across at the table of taxi drivers, and then smiled to himself. "I'll have both plates ready in one minute."

A moment later, the cafe door's bell jingled and Phil shuffled in, dressed in jeans and a green T-shirt. Phil is tall and thin, and hasfor as long as I could recalllooked like a bald, malnourished version of Paul McCartney. He's just a year older than me, but he looks much older. I still have some hair. He spotted me, nodded, and started walking to my table. He walked awkwardly, as if he was auditioning to be an extra in a zombie movie, and I wondered if maybe he'd hurt himself.

He sat, and I smelled the stink of stale cigarettes and alcohol.

"Whoa," I said. "Late night. Have you been home yet?"

"I grabbed a couple of hours sleep, but I needed to talk to you. I knew you'd be here."

Before he could tell me what was so urgent, Luca arrived with two fully-loaded plates, two small cups of his special black tar and two glasses of cold water. He told Phil he didn't look so good. Phil noddedthere was no denying it. I picked up a slice of crispy bacon, folded it into my mouth and savored its salty, fatty goodness. Bacon was step two of my jet lag recovery program.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

Luca grinned and tilted his head towards the cabbies. "Thank them. Your need seemed greater." Then he left us alone with our food.