Chunks

There’s something interesting about the way this page works. You’ve already seen it in action. But let’s try it out some more. Scroll down.

Do you see? This essay – or whatever it is – is written in short paragraphs. And when you read it, you only ever see one chunk of text at a time.

What does this do?

It paces the reading experience.

It prevents you from skimming and skipping.

It forces you to stop and read.

Stop.

And.

Read.

And, perhaps more importantly, writing something that will be read this way forces you to pace your writing. You automatically write in a more conversational tone – as if you’re speaking to someone.

And that’s my point! The whole thing starts to feel much more personal. As a reader, you have to actively and physically engage with the text. And as a writer, you have to think about how your reader will experience your words in concrete physical and temporal terms.

The interaction becomes way less abstract.

Do you get it?

Do you feel it?

Hello there!

Now, this isn’t my invention. It isn’t even very new.

Robin Sloan pioneered the form more than a decade ago. And more recently, Robin Rendle used a similar format for an essay on newsletters.

I’m a big fan of both Robins' work. But both of their essays are a little meta. They’re about new forms of writing and reading, using a new form of writing and reading. This essay is no different, of course. And perhaps that is all this slide-like format of ‘reading in chunks’ is good for. But…

I have a strong feeling that it’s not.

So I want to start experimenting.

For instance, I’m curious to see what this form could do in education.

I’m a teacher. I teach. I want to explain things to my students. But they don’t listen to my lectures. And they don’t read my explanations very well, either.

If only there was a way to make them stop.

And read.

And to do that in a way that feels personal. Not some dry online textbook, but a sort of personal lecture. Something like a sit-down with your teacher.

Where you go through things step-by-step.

Where it’s possible to repeat things.

To slow down for important points.

At a time and place that works for you.

This could be that!

But it’s not just about the convenience. Or about tricking you into not skipping half of what I wrote. It’s the fact that this form carries over something essential from a great lecture: that it’s an experience.

Memorable experiences have a rhythm. A flow. This has that, too.

(A little, at least.)

For the same reason, swiping though text like this feels like it brings something of the video essay to written text. There’s an element of delivery to the lines. Again: this makes the words feel more personal and alive.

(At a fraction of the bandwidth, emissions, and production effort of a video!)

There are many possible problems, of course. The format is less suited to long form text. And it’s not for looking stuff up. It’s only for reading start-to-finish. But I feel it’s worth exploring.

I’ll be collecting my experiments with this format here. Will you let me know what you think?

Ok, bye!