Thread by @garius

You may have noticed that I firmly believe the same approach applies to writing conversational history (e.g. threads).

90% of people don't give a shit what number Battalion it was that advanced.

They care WHERE they came from. They care WHO they were.

History is people.

https://twitter.com/garius/status/1450052374211538951

Now OBVIOUSLY if you're writing an effing academic paper on it, or a book aimed at historians (paid or amateur) then you need the extra precision.

But think about your audience, and err towards under, not over-explaining.

Make an emotional connection first. Battalions later.

I care about which battalions it was. I should be able to tell you which battalions it was if you ask (or at the very least point you to where you can find out).

But that's because I'm already interested in that stuff.

But nobody, in the world, ever, answered the question:

"How did you first fall in love with studying history?"

With:

"Someone gave me a random bunch of battalion numbers and that's it. I just fell in love at that point."

Now one of the most common responses I hear to this is:

"Oh, but by including the precision I'm writing for both general and enthusiast/expert!"

You aren't. You're injecting words the general audience don't understand. That puts barriers of comprehension in place.

Because they don't think:

"Oh I don't understand what a battalion is. I can ignore that."

YOU know they can, because you know what one is! They don't!

They think:

"Crap. This sounds complicated. Do I need to know that? Does everyone other than me know what a battalion is?!"

You've created uncertainty as to whether that content is for them, whether the conclusions they're likely to draw from it are correct (they probably are) and added a bunch of other mental weight.

At best they'll think "I'll read that later" (and then don't) worst: "Not for me"