It’s far from perfect, but that’s fine. It’s my first stab at this kind of writing and I wrote it as an experiment. I wanted to discover what was involved in writing something that 1) could be read in various sequences, 2) by someone sitting at a computer. I also wanted to find out 3) if I could, at the end, when the writing was finished, produce something that could be posted online. Or was that all-important final step beyond me?
Importantly, none of these had anything to do with Faulkner. So why choose him as a subject? Well, because I already had a text close at hand. Working with it, I expected I’d be able to focus on the three concerns above right away without worrying too much about the basic writing problems involved in going from nothing to something.
As it turned out, this choice had one additional advantage: I know what it took to pull material from so many different sub-field of research into a coherent, linear structure. I remember the difficult choices required and the pattern I struggled to develop and then to work within. Making the hypertext involved breaking that pattern, undoing those choices in order to create a different structure. The difference was vivid as I worked, sometimes to the point of being overwhelming.
What I have online right now is not in the end what I expected and my worries are not those that I had anticipated. Still, it’s a first ever attempt to do something like this and I’m fine with it.
My concerns? The hypertext is incomplete if by complete, I mean “containing the information in my dissertation.” I did have dreams early on of having everything, but it was a waste of time to work toward that. I could lose my life rewriting and reordering a text I was done with (concretely and intellectually) years ago. Then a few days ago, I realized I was avoiding number three above: export. Deep down, I didn’t expect to be able to come up with anything usable from my Tinderbox file and that was going to be a crushing blow. I was avoiding the moment when it would hit.
So I bit the bullet, cut materials, linked back from dead ends where I found them, left quite a few long notes I’d planned to break up whole, and then last night (less than 24 hours ago!) sat down to see what I could get out of my Tinderbox file.
It was a revelation.
Tinderbox’s export is jaw-droopingly, amazing. I have never written HTML to create a web page, much less a site. Yet with an HTML/CSS book at hand as reference and few hours work Tinderbox spit out the pages currently online. Are they beautiful? No. But that’s me not having any sense of web colours and fonts (because zero practice, duh). And better yet, export is so easy that revisions of the site are no big deal. I made several before going to bed.
All of which means I now know that I can write in Tinderbox, and Tinderbox will give me sturdy, legible pages to post when I’m ready. That’s a game changer!
Source v. Hypertext
I’ve noticed that the hypertext makes the contribution I offer in my dissertation implicit rather than overt. For my project, I didn’t discover a lost text or dig through a trove of recently discovered letters or manuscripts. I took three marginal segments of Faulkner studies coordinated their linked parts and set the whole within its biographical and historical context. The result was a clarification of how an important but misunderstood part of his development as a writer worked.
Here’s the thing: the hypertext links I created often replaced the transitional material I had used to explain and coordinate material. As a result, what had been a slide show became a room with various things on separate (but related) display. Illustration was in a sense replaced by collage. That’s interesting but leaves the hypertext feeling a bit obvious to me.
I do, now that I’m done, have some concerns about the scholarly apparatus of the hypertext. I adapted my dissertation text with an eye to learning about hypertext, not because of a burning need to create an online Faulkner resource for the globe.I tried to play nice with quotation marks and citations, yes, but I’ve realized that some citations have disappeared in pages I worked on in the early weeks. There are probably others I haven’t noticed, and so, I’ve felt compelled to point out in the hypertext that the dissertation is the scholarly statement not the web site, a hedge but one I can’t live without.
- Clicking through things last night, I realize that I agonized over structural questions as I was putting this thing together but that on the web, structure is hard to make present. For the moment, the posted text feels like a “resource” rather than an “argument” to me. Perhaps this is inevitable given that as I created possibilities for where to go next, I had to create links for those who arrived without info they needed and I couldn’t assume they had. The result is a link structure that feels very flat to me. The “hubs” I’d created, which allowed me to assume that, whatever path readers took to get here, beyond this point they know at least x, y & z, are largely non-operative. I’d like to think that’s a product of the last few days rapid link-building aimed at closing down the loose ends, but it may not be.
- The hypertext reads online as much smaller than it is. Shockingly so. This is exciting—because it means there is more space than I imagined to write within—but also, I feel stunned: how much do you have to write to create work that feel large?
- What I have now, feels readable and navigable (not to be confused with interesting or useful!), which makes me very happy. Until last night I had no idea that I would ever get to the point where I had something I could post a link to.
So yes, I’m very very happy. The experiment is done. I now know that Tinderbox HTML export is unbelievably, mind-blowingly easy and effective.
And so I feel free to sit down and write for real.
Wow. I’m going to say that again: I feel free to write. What a great day.