Mark Bernstein has a long post collecting various thoughts and questions about writing with links. In the longest segment of the post he takes a basic component of most narratives–a passage of dialogue–and then proposes a few seemingly minor transformations that someone writing a hypertext narrative might be expected to do: break the sequence into pieces, resequence the pieces, link to create an opportunity for one sequence to return to the other.
His post arrives as my summer days are dwindling and when I should be finishing up last bits of planning for my courses. But it also made me curious about what these transformations might look like behind the scenes and what would it take to actually do them. So last night I sat down and wrote up something just to see.
To get started, I jotted down ten notes that together made a short conversation/conflict. I then resequenced that conversation twice: once to work from the middle backwards with a possibility of either returning to the original chronological sequence or of continuing to the end more quickly, and once to create a completely independent, achronological version.
A Limitation: No Off Switch
All the links in the dialogue are web links and are always on. But not being able to control for repetition is a problem. Yes, repetition can be expressive. It might highlight the looping, unordered manner we speak to one another. In other words, a sequence with possible repetitions might offer an image of “conversation,” the genre of casual spoken exchange between people.
But I wasn’t much interested in that. I wanted to represent an actual conversation and that seemed to mean limiting possible repetitions as I made links. To manage this, I created every note in triplicate and linked from each version sequence separately. Doing this, I began to wonder to what extent it’s even useful to try to create the option of moving between versions mid-stride in a text that doesn’t aim to be a game narrative.
Weren’t the most meaningful choices made at the outset when a reader set off down one of the three available paths? What does the option to switch paths before the end of the convo add? (Note: not rhetorical questions)
Putting together this dialogue, I worked against expectations I derived from the linear printed book. Reading the dialogue online though, I began to wonder if the relevant expectations–maybe the most important even–actually derived from the web.
I’m struck by how differently the text in TBX and the text on the web read. (I had the same experience with Faulkner.) The web naturalizes disorder. So much so that I find it hard to recognize the achronology of the jumbled versions of the conversations when reading online. Without trying to, I smooth out the problems and jumps. Yes, there are a couple off-tune transitional words that clang badly, but they are easy to delete (because they’re unnecessary).
Overall, I think it’s hard to notice or track differences between the versions. It’s a strange effect.
…or is my dialogue just not very “hyper-textual”?
Back to work, alas
And that’s it. This dialogue was maybe a bit of a throwaway exercise, but it was an interesting one to. And also a nice distraction as school obligations begin to pick up and take over.