Avoiding the Infodump through Depth of Field

Infodumping is a little like doomscrolling: a dysfunctional relationship to information that does more harm than good.   For those fortunate enough not to have encountered either one, an infodump is when a writer compulsively piles information on information to the point of overwhelming the reader.  Doomscrolling is when you do it to yourself, compulsively scrolling online feeds of the world’s limitless supply of awful news, again to the point of overwhelming the reader.

As a writer, editor, and book coach, I can’t really help you with doomscrolling, though when scrolling impedes writing I recommend tools like Freedom or Brick.  I can, however, give you a solid solution to the problem of writerly infodumping, and it comes straight out of the art and science of photography.

photo via Unsplash

Before we get there, though, it’s important to understand why infodumping happens. In my experience there are three primary reasons writers end up infodumping.  All are problems of focus.

Writers may believe they are obligated to share as much information as possible with the reader.  The impulse is laudable, but misunderstands the heart of the nonfiction writer’s job, which is to provide reliable information filtered and organized for relevance.  What’s relevant in any context is always a subset of the information that exists: the difference between all and some is focus. 

In nonfiction as in photography, subjects should be tightly focused, surrounded by things that provide immediate context. 

Writers may also infodump in an attempt to preempt all possible questions, objections, or exceptions related to their writing.  This desire is exacerbated by social media, whose discursive nature sets up the untenable expectation that any given reader can introduce a quibble, tangent, exception, or query at any time.  The urge to try to control this is understandable, but it’s a fools’ errand: reader responses aren’t actually within writers’ control.  More importantly, writers already have a job to do--see above--and trying to preempt readers’ responses isn’t it.  

In some cases, infodumping may correlate to neurology. While neurotypical minds tend to deploy a common range of information filtering strategies that have come to be considered customary in the writerly world, not all minds work this way.  Some neurospicy folks’ minds focus on information collection much more than filtering. Filtering information is a mode of focusing it.

Because focus is the common denominator here, the photography concept of depth of field is very useful. A camera can only focus at one distance for a given photo, which means objects that are either closer to or further from the camera than that will be blurred accordingly. Depth of field is the range of distances in which objects in a photo appear “acceptably focused” to viewers.  The subject of the photo is located in the place of greatest focus. Whatever visible objects are acceptably focused because they exist near it, within the depth of field, are what give the subject its immediate context.

In nonfiction as in photography, subjects should be tightly focused, surrounded by things that provide immediate context.  If you’re writing about wooden pencils (to pick a topic I nerd out about) the immediate context won’t include typewriters or laser printers even though those are also used for writing.  It might include other pencil types, though, for the sake of comparison.  If the focus were on prestige or collectible wooden pencil brands like Blackwing, though, only a few varieties of pencils would fall within the field. 

The central problem to be solved, again, is not a problem of information but a problem of focus.  If your subject is well focused, you have an easier time determining what information has a sharp, unblurred relationship to your subject and falls within its depth of field.  

In writing, a defined depth of field provides coherence.  If you are able to remember that your job is to provide reliable information filtered and organized for relevance, it will help youl worry less about the information that doesn’t fit.  Sure, it’s possible that your reader may end up wanting more details than you’ve provided.  But part of the pleasure of reading is the pleasure of finding your curiosity piqued, and it’s rarely a misstep, as they say in showbiz, to leave your audience wanting more. 

To learn more about how to focus your nonfiction, check out our courses here.