Hi, I’m Lee.


I’ve always been drawn to the intersection of systems and stories. My first web design project was in middle school in the late ’90s, when I built a Redwall-inspired literary role-playing website that grew to more than 400 members at its peak. From there, I kept designing on the side—creating websites for college literary magazines and post-collegiate community projects—long before I had the language of “user experience” to describe what I was doing.

Professionally, I spent nearly twenty years working with independent bookstores around the country, where I led operational, training, and customer experience initiatives in independent bookstores nationwide. I built tools to automate inventory management, created training programs that scaled nationally, and improved workflows that empowered staff, strengthened community connection, and helped put the right book in the right person’s hand at the right time.

Those years taught me that design isn’t just about creating a product or service—it’s about crafting experiences that give people the tools and the narrative to shape their own story, while also making them feel seen, understood, and connected to the communities around them.

Today, I bring that same approach to UX, learning, and service design. I map journeys, analyze complex systems, and collaborate to make experiences easier to navigate. I create experiences that connect, empower, and foster a sense of belonging, just like a great bookstore.

Books remain central to my life. I live in Seattle with my wife, a mental health counselor who reads more than any bookseller I’ve ever met. Our love story unfolded in the stacks: we had our first date at Ada’s Technical Books and were married at King’s Books, an event later featured in the book Bookstore Romance.

I co-host LitUp, a quarterly meetup for book industry professionals that’s been running since 2018, and before that I co-created and produced the Drunk Booksellers podcast, which interviewed booksellers from across the country.

Outside of books, you’ll find me riding my motorcycle along Lake Washington, cross-stitching elaborate Frog & Toad scenes for friends’ babies, having deep conversations with my cats, or learning to whittle (poorly).

At heart, I’m still that middle schooler who loved building worlds where people could gather, share, and belong. That’s the spirit I bring into every design project: creating systems that foster connection, make space for people, and maybe even spark a little joy.

Professional Journey