From idea to publication — a structured process

 

✍️ From idea to publication — a structured process

Alongside my industrial and supply chain work, I have also developed a different type of project over the years: writing and publishing.

Not as a separate activity, but as another form of structured execution.

Publishing a book — whether on digital platforms (Kindle) or in print — follows a process that is not so different from industrial environments:

• structuring content into a coherent framework
• iterating and refining until it reaches a stable version
• managing formats, constraints, and distribution channels
• delivering a final product that is consistent and usable

Books such as “Un homme pressé” were built with this mindset:
from concept to final output, with the same discipline applied to any project.

Different domain — same fundamentals:
structure, iteration, and delivery.

---

🤝 Final thought

Whether in industry or writing, I am interested in one thing:
turning ideas into something that works — reliably.

A different operating system — discovered later, applied earlier

 

🌍 A different operating system — discovered later, applied earlier

For most of my career, I didn’t have a name for how I was working.

I just knew I was wired to:

• break down complex systems
• see patterns where others saw noise
• anticipate risks early
• and turn uncertainty into structured execution

That mindset took me through:
✈️ Industrialization at Airbus
🚬 Global supply chain & NPI at Philip Morris International
🚆 Program & process governance at SBB

Across these environments, one constant remained:
I was at my best where complexity, pressure, and structure meet.

---

🔍 A late understanding

Much later in my journey, I came to understand that this way of functioning aligns with what is often described as:

• ADHD (attention regulation diversity)
• Autism spectrum — without intellectual impact, often referred to as Level 1 / high-functioning / Asperger profile

Not as labels to define limits —
but as frameworks to understand strengths.

---

⚙️ What it means in practice

It explains why I naturally:

• operate with high analytical depth and data interpretation
• focus intensely on solving complex problems
• challenge assumptions and explore alternative solutions
• perform well in high-stakes, structured environments

This is consistent with my behavioral assessment, highlighting:

• strong problem analysis and solution development potential
• high capacity for innovation and idea generation

At the same time, it also explains why I:

• prefer clarity over ambiguity in social dynamics
• favor facts over perceptions
• and build trust through delivery rather than visibility

---

🧭 Reframing the narrative

There is still a tendency to see neurodiversity through a deficit lens.

But in many industrial, operational, and transformation environments,
these traits are not limitations — they are performance enablers.

Especially when:

• decisions must be grounded in data
• systems must be reliable and scalable
• risks must be anticipated, not reacted to

---

🤝 What I look for

I thrive in environments where:

• complexity is embraced
• ideas are challenged
• decisions are based on facts
• and accountability is shared

Environments described as performance enablers in my own assessment:

• innovation-driven
• data-oriented
• high-energy, execution-focused contexts

---

📚 For those interested

If this topic resonates, here are useful references:

• DSM-5 definition of Autism Spectrum Disorder (APA)
• WHO – Neurodevelopmental conditions overview
• Harvard Business Review – Neurodiversity as a competitive advantage
• CIPD – Neurodiversity at work

---

Final thought

For years, I learned to adapt to systems.

Now, I focus on contributing where the system benefits from how I naturally operate.

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 63

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 63

view you are putting on it. From his personal insight, he was deep in accordance with himself, in a sweet piano note with the society surrounding him. He kept walking and walking and walking, meeting points with memories, meeting people with whom to share few words. He stopped at a bar next to the river, and enjoyed a final brew before process brewing his next writing, his next adventure. Would it be better putting that in drawings, rather than in words, next time? Who knows? He was the last one who would. The society was going into the decay of debates within the debates forgetting the roots we, as citizens, were fighting for. The ism disease, paternalism, colonialism, extremism of all kind were few of the nouns sorting out this way, escaping a way from a useful debate we all needed. At a critical stage of the evolution, of individuals, of businesses, he felt totally lost and with no powers whatsoever on what was going on. He chose this path, because it was his passion, he lived it with full senses on alerts, and would hope greater minds would leverage the best actions. Well no, so he started to come back in this societal tissue, and tried to bring his view, always looking for a constructive manner to handle the valuable debates we would face in the near future. But this wasnt contemporary fiction, it was reality, and Henri, wherever he looked, felt that this deadly serious game was perhaps too serious to lay his slight thoughts on. Change is a process that takes time, he believed in that, he would support that, still he couldnt anchor yet overall mature thoughts on the topic. He left that behind with no remorse, feeling he did what he could. Because dreams that come true are no longer dreams, he went out in the garden and enjoyed a nice barbecue with friends in the house garden. Simple as that, because what would it be necessarily complex? He loved to get lost, and totally confused, still some time, clear and specific context gave a nice frame for the course of actions he enjoyed more and more. Given we all evolved in a society, even if we tried to segment it in parameters as specific as the individual or as specific as a segment thought through a brain storm of a marketing team, the equation is evolving in some ugly complex difficult to understand equation. And worst of all, this equation would only live in the instant, like a photography, and would have to change dynamically with the context. So yes, after all that has been done, he left with no remorse, none at all. On that the night after, Justin and his half were halfway through their usual good bye night walk, on a bridge. Far in the distance, they saw a train. With all the lights on the inside cabin, it looked like an electrical decoration for Christmas. One last view to

⬅️ Extrait précédent | Extrait suivant ➡️

🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 63

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 62

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 62

ahead, and focused on keeping the motivations within the team. Actors were key on stage, were key at every single stage of the process. How could he look to make them do more? Discussion, communication, and believing in giving another shot to what first looked as desperate. When everything looks wrong, gut feelings appear right. Good they moved on this song right from the beginning. This way, they were adequately surprised, and simply happy even if. 25 Game, set and match The week passed by with its veil of comforting day to day actions and settled the emotions from the week end. A lot of emotions, in fact, everybody who took part to this first performance were feeling a lack of energy on this Monday morning, a total lack of energy, still the thought of having completed something. No one was as happy as Henri on this Monday morning. He did focus at work, just to blend some of the work history into some other plays thought. Justin, on his side, stayed up filled with energy. It was pleasant to see, none of the surrounding people could understand why. Straight he called Henri on the Tuesday and booked a tennis court for the next Thursday. Well yes time had a different value between the week and the week end. They went to play, and it was fulfilling. Energy, from resentment, from a pack of emotions, for boring tasks went straight to be expressed on this lively court. Not that they were good at it, still they were running like mad towards any balls sent back to their sides. During one hour, then two, then they chose to call it a tie, and went back home. On the way back, they walked and arrived next to what appeared to be a ceremony in the local cricket club. A wedding was taking place there, and, even if not rightly dressed, id est not in suitable costumes, they entered the place leaving their bags at the entrance. Surprisingly enough, Justin knew the groom. Not that he would bother this guy recalling a past at university, a long time ago, still he recognized some faces around. So, after congratulating the happy couple, they spent the late afternoon and start of the evening within these premises. No, it wasnt a wedding crasher mood, more like a wedding behave one. Their costumes didnt fit the surrounding crowd. Soon enough, the evening settled, and the darkness gathered this crowd under the spotlight along some very or not English soundtracks, this kind of rejuvenated Rock and Roll bands were playing all around the place in this old kingdom. Henri couldnt remember precisely the night. As he would walk in the future, he would recognize some of these sound and music at the corner of a street even if not all rock and roll at all. The Arctic Monkeys The Killers Tricky Damian Marley Hard-Fi The Fray Razorlight Incubus My Chemical Romance Arcade Fire Bloc Party Norah Jones The Anomalies Ah, happy, in this memory games, a discussion came back to him I dont know if its in the cards Then stack the deck! I dont care about the way youre doing it. 26 Walk On the final day, he left the author to close the story. Henri went for a long awaited walk through the memories he had within this place. The sun was a faithful companion during this day, and he was starting to move to the next chapter ahead, in another location, surrounded by others faces. Gosh, he loved this incipit. He wouldnt dare to write chapters after chapters if he could keep on the incipit. It was along this walk, it was where he would encounter himself again and again, calm and positive, an optimism of every day, or dark and totally depressed, there are two faces at least to any paintings one would look at. Still he felt free, he felt he achieved something, whatever it was, a sense of achievement that was, he thought, deeply overrated depending on the

---

⬅️ Extrait précédent | Extrait suivant ➡️

🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 62

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

the car boot, and finally back home, right time to start lighting this barbecue. But first, they poured themselves drink in cups of different sizes, of different importance. They cheered and just enjoyed the day like a shear moment of joy. Complacency might be a disease, they enjoyed the illness at this time. People came, joined and left. And left this special emotion of the instantaneous moment within each memories. After cleaning up the remaining, Justin and Henri sat in the living room and reviewed the play once again, in the week end free time that was their given tomorrow, they would be eaten once again by the normal day at work. 24 Premiere Came the long awaited premiere, with everything nearly completed: the text, the decoration, the organization of the queue and so on, and so on. A premiere that wasnt meet with a lot of people. Couldnt be the price, Henri and Justin paid for the whole set up, and the rent of the scene was negotiated for free. Still it appeared that three pounds on a Sunday evening was not the perfect match. Perhaps was it even a total mismatch with what they considered as their customer base. They would confirm it at the small gathering they organized after the performance. Maybe some snacks and drinks would untie the tongue around the audience. They put the buffet in order, and welcomed the public who wanted to within the premises. Interestingly enough, seventy-five percents of the audience was there. It could be due to the free booze and meal, still the discussion coming after were as valuable as Henri was expecting them to me. So back home, he discussed with Justin and finally concluded in a report of actions summarized below, preparing this way what they hoped would be the next performance. Wrong time. Sunday is a peace time, away from parties on Thursday Friday or Saturday, it was a unique moment to hang out with family and very closed friends and most of all the last relaxing time before the D2D business week will hit again. Wrong place. Well the place went well with the global atmosphere of the play. Still, would you have idea to do a performance somewhere away from where the people were hanging out? Everything could be wrong, that would not mean the end could be or not be right. No promotion, or a small amount, that and distribution were items that they escaped too easily, rather focusing to the tangible actions on can do, rather than the intangibles on which most communication was relying on. Well, yes, they used digital canals, they put an excerpt of the play online, even some footage on YouTube(. But forcing people out of the digital world to enter the real world was not the best solution. For the second performance, they would hit the streets and create the buzz via a public performance, simple as that, a Sunday afternoon within the commercial part of the town, and An over the counter distribution which meant people had first to come over here this lost of part of the town, before knowing there was a play. The resources were dim, and not allowing too much extravaganza on this parameter. Henri discovered straight the inside power of having a team around to sort it all out properly. Of course, actors, Justin and the place owner, were fitting perfectly in this team. But this latter was too small for the promises Henri got in his mind at the end of his two-month preparation. Over expectations, and an under-selling, a paradox, and an odd couple that did miss the ceremony one has planned in his mind perfectly, in this place not perfectly. Looking around, Henri felt like a salesman in a clothes store. He designed some new suits, and found it difficult to adapt it to its customer base, if a customer base existed. So they put another plan in action for the next performances just one week

---

⬅️ Extrait précédent | Extrait suivant ➡️

🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

to pour in his hears. Some actors, some readers, some place where to do this stuff, more in details. He fitted in change like a bee on the verge of getting her throne. Gosh, one nice comment, and another one, and he had to quickly escape these fake illusions, keeping fighting hard for what was in front. Yes backlash as well, ensuring everything went to order. Fortunately, they were as different as the layers of earth, and came one negative criticism, and another one, and another one. Morning after the mourning, this nice situation where he met some interested people in the play, and faced criticism of his writing, of his play, of his directing. Well everything wasnt fixed, and everything wasnt meant to be all in place. More on the contrary. 23 Left to the right The first rehearsal done, more confusion came than a clear final plot in mind. During his browsing time, to kill some minutes that were spent too fast, he went on the net, and inputted the whole text in one search engine to check for possible references. From cinema, to arts exhibitions, to other writings, his text was a mere patchwork from another view, of course, still, a mere patchwork. As time went on, and lines were stacking up through a series of white paper, ideas, style of writing, were something he felt personal. Still, taking the time to read around, he could see he didnt invent anything, he didnt create anything. Who would it be to think so? Reading through books found by luck in a library, and by luck, he didnt mean he was in a library, he just left his eyes through the shelves as soon as entering, and here came a quest he enjoyed a lot. Browsing around, speaking altogether, he discovered some new and new books. And gosh was it his culture that was framed through the long education he has carried out. At every corner of a book, he would find something linking to something else, linking to what he personally thought, and hence reflected in his own writings. How would copyright stand at a time where everything is shared? Would it be a limit to creativity? Well he didnt know, and values a highly expected: What the hell If it was already done, so it was, still he had to do it. An inner voice spoke to him: Come on man, you are just reinventing the wheel there, whats worth??? At least, I am inventing something, am I? Perhaps you are rethinking it through another point of view, still wont go as far as reinventing the wheel. Ok Nothing new in what you wrote Nice Just the spectrum of what you see from what youve read, messed up with lines of emotions you personally fell True, I am always falling for emotions Still, are they true? He couldnt stand speaking to himself even more. He joined the patio, and just took a break from any thoughts, any thoughts at all. The house was planning to have a barbecue, perhaps time for him to add his stone to the life of this house. Joy of the life in the UK, supermarkets were opened even on a Sunday. So he joined Justin and the flat mate to go over the shopping list. As soon as the car parked, he took control of driving the shopping cart, and from there on, he was the unique meeting point around the supermarket, meeting point of two other electrons meeting him the alleys with a pack of stuff pouring into the cart, every time. He just let his mind drift, when he saw the composition in colors, in writings, in categories, lying in front of him. How to get lost in a supermarket? Might be another play he always had a dream since he was a child of being lost a night in a supermarket. Still, there, we werent at night, and the alleys were crowded by people hurrying between shelves of various products, always going for what they were looking for, at least an idea. And came the time at the cash machine, and the loading in

---

⬅️ Extrait précédent | Extrait suivant ➡️

🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59

surprising O, with no N, to the French M, to the L, to the key, waving to Jay, to the I, leaving the H, to the gee, the blossoming F, and its He, to what did you say, ok lets see, ride the Bi. *** Henri was consumed by this evil inside worm, common disease of our modern times, he kept giving advices. Good he should, given he is now directing a play. Still, he missed there some guidance, somebody who could help him to blossom along the inside thoughts he had and put in frame a full realistic map taking its root in the present. Listening, he was. Filtering what came to him, it was even more. 22 The morning after Yo lo busco, te lo envió. What? Burp. So, Thats life, thats a game???? Henri will see through the very first performance he would set up. They were now quite close to the premiere. They did set up a performance with friends and mates, a normal rehearsal planned to check if everything was ok Act I went smoothly, an unsettled breeze going through the mind of each of the audience. Something strange, certainly trying to tie it to some experiences in the past. But as soon as they were drawn in the game, they witnessed the actor leaving the scene as dead. Shivers through the audience, or at least a slight disbelief with regards to the realism of this story. Seeing this passive audience, attentive but passive, and once again, not a negative criticism in all extent. Henri left the booth he was stuck in and joined the scene midway between Scene 2 and Scene 3. Ladies, Gentlemen, thanks for coming, I, and the team, really appreciate. It s a dream coming true and I am really thankful for you dedicating the time to some rubbish I wrote, feeling quite inspired. One clap, before he continued So now, yes weve seen Romain dead walking to the end of the game, and I would like to try one thing, might or might not be in the final performance, I would like you, yes you all, to contribute. Silence in the crowd, dubious of what will be next, or they just didnt care. It pointed them with a finger, not this one: YOU are my inspiration. In fact, I am a thief, a ghost writer of the lives I am witnessing all around, looking to bring one side on paper So who wants to go on stage? You know the rules, you know the game, time to feel the flow. Silence Come on One voice, more a whisper, started to build a phrase somewhere in the audience. I feel unpowered to do so. I am deeply congested through an iceberg of emotions that stops me from moving, realistically and physically moving. The play bends us too soon into these humanistic question. Why didnt you continue to relax the atmosphere and set that event in scene 4? Good, anybody else, express yourself, I give you the dices. Game officer, come here and please give me your cards. Two spectators stood up and came to the scene. . Another look, different eyes, and a setting fitting the scene in unsettlement of the whole situation. Scene three, four and five went as, well he couldnt remember, he was deep in writing again some other thoughts, still everything grasped by what he hoped was surprises. One of the spectators on scene was especially good at picturing emotions and made the whole audience shiver. She couldnt stand with the flow scene 1 and 2 set up, and she challenged any single moves the play was. Well that was it. Did he intend to put a play on scene and to play a board game directly with the audience? Maybe time to find more cards rather than focusing on putting words in mouth of others. Back home, he put the draft onto the net. A pretty catchy one. He didnt know more, neither was he aware of whom to send it to, just a general burp that might make the buzz on the electronic net of the utterly sensible internet. Both from the online and the offline community, feedbacks started

---

⬅️ Extrait précédent | Extrait suivant ➡️

🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59