A Rant (Part 1 of X)

Irvine Welsh, the author of Trainspotting, is said to have hailed the internet as the death of the novel. Makes me wonder what he thinks of movies, given I’m sure more people have seen the Trainspotting movie than read the original book, to say nothing of all the people led to his books on the power of the film. Maybe he doesn’t consider that a fair comparison since the internet, despite the rise of short-form audio-visual content like TikTok or Instagram, is still largely a text-based affair. It's been argued that we’re reading less and less as time goes on, but the reality is that people are reading as much as ever, they’re just reading things other than books, magazines, and newspapers.

To build on Mr. Welsh’s assertion, if there’s one singular iota of beef I have with social media sites such as Twitter and Facebook, it’s that they’ve almost singlehandedly killed blogging. Microblogging offers a conciseness and brevity that’s simply easier to digest in short, controlled bursts of scrolling. I remember an English teacher telling me about how the Industrial Revolution lit a fire under the short fiction market because people were simply too busy to read a full novel, preferring instead a tighter narrative that could be read in a sitting.

This is not me complaining about any shrinking traffic to my own blogs; they were never that high to begin with. Rather, my complaint has to do with the way too many people are using social media to share their thoughts. Essentially, they’re trying to jam the round peg of long-form blogging into the square hole of microblogging, and it’s frustrating that people aren’t more upset about it.

Here’s what I mean: In the latter years of Twitter, before the Elongated Muskrat came along, there seemed to be an uptick in people posting multi-part tweets to get around the character limit. Specifically, after the death of TotalBiscuit the Cynical Brit from bowel cancer, a certain user made a very long chain of Twitter posts about his axes to grind with the former vlogger (complete with an image of several axes leaning against a wall). I don’t remember if he was a journalist or a game developer, and I don’t care to dignify his display of pettiness with a check, but all I could think when I was scrolling through it to see how many replies to his own Tweet he needed was, “Why doesn’t he just make this a blog post and put the link to it in a Tweet?” People can still reply to what he said below the Tweet; they can just go to the blog, read it, and then come back with their thoughts on it.

Look, I can understand when you need a little more room to say what you want to say. Even the most generous character limits can be frustrating to work within. If I see someone posting a reply to their own post to finish their thought, that honestly doesn’t bother me. If it’s a reply to their own post giving some additional context, or reacting to the general vibe of the other replies they’re getting, I have absolutely no problem with that. Sometimes, we don’t choose the right words and we need to add some qualifiers. It happens.

What does make me angry is when you’ve essentially taken a long form blogpost, chopped it up into sentences, and then posted them one at a time to a microblogging site, just hoping that people will be able to navigate the thread amid all the other replies from people responding to it. Seriously, if you need that much room, get a blog.

The sad reality of why this is happening has many roots, the first of which is that some people simply like to keep their online presence more centralized. They’d rather focus on one site than micromanage a thousand different pages, leading to at least one inevitably being neglected. Secondly, it may simply not be worth it for them to set up a blog just for that one especially long stream of consciousness. Thirdly, and most tragic of all, is that social media users are creatures of habit. Many don’t feel like following a link to an external site, even if the URL clearly shows where they’re going and isn’t potentially some kind of trap.

On that note, remember TinyURL and Bitly? On paper, it sounds like a great way to put web addresses in Tweets so you wouldn’t use up as much of the character limit. In practice, it’s absolutely awful because all you’d have is a string of numbers and letters. You could have been getting sent absolutely anywhere and the internet is a dangerous place. Nowadays, more sites offer shortened versions of their URLs for this very reason. You now know for sure you’re clicking on a link to a YouTube video or a Twitter post or a Wordpress blog. Also, social media platforms have gotten better at integrating URLs without it eating up half of your character limit. You may even get a little preview window of what you’re going to see.

Before I go, I should address another use of social media microblogging, and that’s using it to publish fiction. There’s two approaches this takes. One is a more traditional method that builds on what we’ve talked about with people trying other shoehorn longer form writing into a format that favors succinctness. An example of this is Ratha’s Island by Clare Bell, which was essentially “serialized” to Twitter one sentence at a time, one post per day at roughly the same time. The other form of “Twitter fiction” is a modern take on the literary genre of Epistolary fiction. Epistolary fiction is a subgenre of fiction that presents its story in the form of letters and other documents written directly by the characters in the story. Bram Stoker’s Dracula is the go-to example of this that most people are probably familiar with. In the case of Twitter fiction, sometimes called “unfiction” due to the interactive quality of using social media, An account is made “in character” and it is that character relating events in their life as though they were posting to social media as anyone else would. A good example of this is a horror story called The Sun Vanished, about someone waking up in a world where the sun has been inexplicably blocked out, among other odd goings-on. The only problem with this approach is that social media platforms don’t make it very easy to read posts in chronological order from the beginning. Also, unless each post is labeled as part of a greater work of fiction (which is immersion-breaking), it’s more than possible to mislead casual readers into thinking they’re interacting with a real person’s journey, especially if it’s of the less fantastical variety.

The reason why I like the “in character account” better than the piecemeal presentation of a novel is that the former takes advantage of the medium and conforms to its inner workings, whereas the other is an old dinosaur trying in vain to adapt to the new world.