Joe Craig, a British writer and children's novelist, just demonstrated his mastery in adapting long-form copy to the medium of Twitter ... by recounting the apparently true tale of a very awkward moment in his life.
The whole thing could have been condensed into one tweet, but where would the fun have been in that? No, Craig shows us that it takes a master writer to keep 'em hanging on your every short, sweet, character-limited messge.
Here's the story, with some notes on craft below.
A thing happened to me last night & I think you'll enjoy it, but I'll tell you later. Not suitable for lunch time, but remind me later.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 27, 2016
I think it's probably late enough now. Do you want to hear the thing that happened to me?
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I was walking my dog round East Finchley, late, two nights ago. Chasing foxes, that kind of thing. And I heard a noise.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I heard muffled screaming & saw the boot of a car rattling. Oh no, I thought - someone's trapped in the boot!
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
It was a small hatchback. A renault clio, I think. But still big enough that someone could conceivably be trapped in the boot.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
(The boot of the car is the trunk, for my American compadres.)
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Couldn't see inside the car cos it was dark but as I got closer I was sure that there were screams coming from the boot. Urgent screams.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
My rushed up to the car, pulling my dog with me. The whole car was rattling. "I have to set this person free!" I thought. BUT...
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I have to do it quickly in case the person who's trapped them comes back. This is DANGEROUS but I am A HERO. My dog is too. Both heroes.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
In a swift, dynamic movement I flung open the boot of the car. The boot light came on. I was staring into the face of a woman!
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
The woman was naked.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
On top of the woman was a man. Also naked.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
They'd put the back seats down & were lying the full length of the car, heads in the boot.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
The woman was clinging on to the boot, rattling it while she screamed. For very different reasons than the ones I had assumed from outside.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Except now she was no longer screaming, because she was looking up at me, horrified. As was the man. I was holding the boot open.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
What does one say in that situation?
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I'll tell you what I said. I said: "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought you were trapped. Like a hostage. Because of the screaming and...
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
...the rattling. But I see now you don't need my help. Either of you. And that this is the good kind of screaming. Sorry. Do carry on."
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
It was words to that effect, anyway. I admit I babbled a bit. I didn't want them to think I was just a weirdo pervert bursting in on them.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I also wanted to offer a little encouragement.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Then I started to close the boot - carefully. I didn't want to trap anything. Unfortunately, my dog is very well trained...
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
And my dog loves car journeys.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
So before I could close the boot, Harpo (my dog) did what he's been trained to do when someone opens the boot of a hatchback.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
My dog jumped into the boot. Sort of next-to (but mainly on-top-of) the faces of the two copulating strangers.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Now it was too late to close the boot. There was more screaming - but not the good kind.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Obviously I can't undo Harpo's training, so I said, "Good boy."
Which I think gave the wrong impression.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
After that I made a swift exit. I remembered to take the dog with me. I didn't wait around to hear more screaming & rattling.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
And THAT is the funny thing that happened to me the other night, with my dog, in East Finchley.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
I should probably have mentioned he's a very large dog.
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
Oh, the things this poor boy has seen/done/sat on/tasted. #harpopic.twitter.com/NOE4MFy5bp
— Joe Craig (@joecraiguk) January 28, 2016
The beauty of the whole thing is how Craig uses breaks between tweets to create dramatic tension. For example:
"The boot light came on. I was staring into the face of a woman!"
"The woman was naked."
"On top of the woman was a man. Also naked."
Instead of stringing those into one tweet (there was plenty of room), he keeps up the tension and keeps us in the mind of his character—a hero rescuing a trapped woman—until the last possible moment of realization: He is actually ruining "happy fun times" for some poor couple who are so desperate to bang that they have laid back the seats in a Renault Clio.
And when we think our protagonist has reached his lowest point, that surely his awkward embarrassment cannot be exceeded, his dog makes things worse by jumping into the boot with the two naked strangers—an act which, in his efforts to avoid confusing his pet and muddying its training, Craig actually rewards.
What's key is dropping all those details at their own pace, taking a tweet pause where he would have taken a real pause if addressing a live audience, and giving us time to wonder in between. It isn't hard to see that, by following this method, you too can turn Twitter into a storytelling medium par excellence.
