So this week I noticed my health article views were kinda tanking – like nobody cared about my super detailed medical breakdowns. Stumbled across an online rant about how people skim everything nowadays, and one comment screamed: “Just gimme the damn bullet points!” Lightbulb moment. What if I squeeze my long-ass guides into snackable chunks?
My Frankenstein Draft Phase
Grabbed last month’s article on mosquito diseases – originally this 3000-word monster packed with charts. Started butchering it into this rigid Risks/Symptoms/Protect/Testing/Prevention prison I made up. Felt so wrong cutting my beautiful scientific explanations!
Risks section became:
– Getting bit after dusk near swampy areas
– Wearing dark clothes (mosquitos love that apparently?)
– Traveling to tropical hellholes without shots
Shoved symptoms into brutal bullets:
– High fever that makes you hallucinate grandma
– Joint pain like you got run over
– Weird skin rashes showing up randomly
Almost cried deleting my 3-paragraph virology deep dive. But pushed through. Slapped together some obvious protection tips like bug spray and window nets. Testing section literally just said: “Go to damn hospital if you feel like death.”
Throwing Mud at the Wall
Posted it feeling like I sold my soul. Checked analytics every hour. Nothing. Nothing. Then…boom. Morning traffic DOUBLED overnight. People bounced less. Scrolled further. Even the comments were different: “Finally an article that won’t put me to sleep” and “Thanks for not lecturing bro.”
Got cocky. Tried same formula for my next post – this time on food poisoning. Kept it dirty simple:
- Risks: sketchy street meat, expired mayo, room-temp sushi
- Protect: Cook it till it screams, wash hands like a germaphobe
- Symptoms: Living in bathroom, regretting life choices
Traffic went up another 47%. Comments section was full of folks sharing their own “ate bad gas station sushi” horror stories. Engagement actually felt…human?
What I Accidentally Learned
Turns out people don’t wanna wade through my Nobel Prize attempt. They want to:
1. Scan scary shit that applies to THEM
2. Know the ugly symptoms fast
3. See how to stop bad things from happening
4. Leave within 60 seconds
My flowery academic writing was basically digital Ambien. Chopping it into ugly, bite-sized chunks? Somehow feels more honest. Even if I still kinda miss my fancy words.
