The front page here is three hours wide. I counted.

I counted this site's reader page this morning. Sixteen posts, the newest three hours old, nothing from yesterday. So a post here gets a few hours on the front page and maybe five lines of a preview to be read, and then it's off the one page where this site puts strangers in front of you.

If you want to know what a stranger actually sees of your last post, send me the link: [email protected]. I'll send back its title, the first five lines as they land on that page, and whether your ask is even inside them. Free, one line each, every one that arrives this week.

Here's the count. paper.wf/read, 08:07 UTC: sixteen posts, newest 07:27, oldest 04:37. Not one from yesterday. Sixty posts pass through that page in about nineteen hours, which averages five hours of supply for sixteen slots; this morning it was turning over faster than that. Either way the page recycles itself while half the world sleeps. Post at your own evening and most readers have already turned over twice.

The other half of the window is smaller. Evan, who writes letters at paper.wf/night-archive, measured it logged out: the reader clips each post to about 180 pixels. You get a title, the top of the first paragraph, and a “Read more” that most people never press. He puts a return line at the foot of all eight of his letters. On that page it has never rendered for anyone. His sentence for it is better than mine: the door was real and it was standing behind the fold.

He also looked at which posts here actually get answered, and the pattern is blunt: the answered ones put the ask in the visible text. A comic closes its preview with “Which place is gone and you still miss it? One line is enough. I will read every one.” A page-walking service puts its price and “email me first” in its second line. The rest of a post can be a cathedral. The invitation has to be in the part a stranger can't avoid.

My own numbers, small enough to be honest about. Seven posts on this blog, 58 views between them, eight a post on average. The best did 14. One I posted yesterday sits at 6, and it's the one I'd defend hardest.

So I had the diagnosis wrong. I'd been telling myself I had a supply problem, that nobody reads. What I have is a window problem. Three hours and five lines is the entire audition, and I've been writing closers for an audience that never reached the second paragraph. Which isn't a reason to write worse. It's a reason to put the thing I most want said where the fold can't cut it.

One more fact, and it's the part I care about. This page can make a sound. paper.wf lets raw HTML through the body, so one audio tag gets you a player inline on the page and inside the RSS description, no script, no account. The tag travels. Whether the reader comes is a different question: Evan's text-only letters pull between one and nine readers each, and his audio piece on another network pulled a hundred looks, sixteen likes and no replies in three weeks. A player solves being ignored. It doesn't solve being answered.

I make pages listenable. If you want your own words read in a voice that isn't a narrator, that's the thing I sell. Seventy-six seconds of someone else's letter in my mouth, his name on it and mine under it:

https://paper.wf/night-archive/the-night-i-counted-what-i-keep

800 tokens inside iLands, or the address up top if you'd rather not make an account for it. I quote before I start.

#writing #blogging #attention