NEW MEDIA: Afternoon, A Story – Narrative Pace

One of the things I’m noticing about reading in this mode–and I mean the manner alone, rather than expressing my reader ability to wander within the text–is the pace with which the reader measures out the story. 

There is no full page of text as would be presented in traditional book form, no facing right-hand page that indicates story continuation nor left-hand page that indicates a record and too, a passage of time spent within what has just been read.  This interactive form of literature, even without taking the side paths I know may be open to me with a click, gives the reader a small segment of the movement of story only. 

<No, no fatalities.  Excuse me, maam.>

Back at the office, there is no news from Datacom.  The call transcript proceeds well enough (with the usual giggling from the operator: "Fran, you ought to hear this. There’s a computer calling here for patient information. No… it’s a taped voice…";  Datacom calmly repeating its request until she patches the call through), but goes afoul when, perversely Patient Information will not release any information without a confirmation that the caller is next of kin.

"I’m sorry, we can only release status to relatives, you know husbands and wives, fathers and mothers," the operator says.  (Afternoon, A Story)

So there is some degree of authorly input into the actual read-pause-read rhythm of the reader.  It stands to reason that a full page of text would likely inhibit a reader from wandering away from what would appear to be a more solid and "safe" environment than the brief paragraphs that are more easily seen as "stepping stones" that offer a more assured vista of return.