The Atavist

In late October of 2009, the freelance journalist Evan Ratliff invited his editor at Wired, Nick Thompson, over to watch the Alabama-Tennessee game at Ratliff's Brooklyn flat. The two got to talking over what fun they had had working on a two-article serial about what it takes to disappear in an age of ubiquitous digital traces. Ratliff had actually attempted to vanish himself, goading his readers into a digital manhunt, and Ratliff chronicled the story in a characteristic that Wired permitted to run considerably longer than the typical 4,000-word fare constrained by magazine page counts.

"I brought upwardly the thought," Ratliff tells Fast Company, "that you have a digital medium that should allow you to do things at whatever length you want." Magazine space-constraints limit the feature well; while the economic demands of the publishing-industry all but dominion out the short book (people want their $25 worth, when ownership a hardback). E-readers, though, should upend this logic, opening a whole new province of novella-length non-fiction. What'south more, the digital medium would allow a suite of multimedia extras to enhance the story. Thompson got excited almost the thought, and looped in a designer named Jeff Rabb, who had designed the website for Thompson's book, The Militarist and the Dove. In that moment, The Atavist–which launches adjacent calendar week across several east-reading devices–was conceived.

The Atavist is, in the words of its website, "a boutique publishing house producing original nonfiction stories for digital, mobile reading devices." On the 26th, 2 stories will be available equally $ii.99 in-app purchases on the iPad and iPhone (less tricked-out editions will also be coming out for Kindle for $1.99, and somewhen for the Android and Nook). Download the app, which is itself free, and an elegant checkerboard blueprint launches. Unlike stories are represented by tiles, which y'all then touch to sample or purchase for download. The commencement ii stories, each running in the 12,000-word range, are by Ratliff and Brendan Koerner, a friend and fellow Wired regular.

Last weekend, Ratliff gave me an early on look at the app, walking me through the two stories on his iPad. He launches the Koerner piece, Piano Demon, virtually an African-American jazz pianist named Teddy Weatherford who became a sensation in Asia in the 1930s. A bit of honky-tonk piano, the story's "soundtrack," begins playing (it's silenced with the press of button, if yous prefer to read without the ambiance). Ratliff shows me how the story is divided into several "capacity," each of which is manifested in a single, scrollable folio. Attain the end of the chapter (the bottom of that page), and an unobtrusive pointer signals that you tin swipe to the correct for more. Sometimes, navigating to the correct will first bring you to an interpolated image related to that moment in the story; swiping over again will bring you to the next chapter. "The Atavist is a hybrid between magazines and books, and we're trying to reflect this in the design," explains Ratliff.

Atavist stories also feature "in-line extras"–substantially a back-channel of opt-in multimedia content, whose availability is signaled by faint gray arrows in the margins. That piano solo Koerner is describing? Press hither to have a listen. Yet another place name you forget whether you've encountered already (since Weatherford was a worldly man who criss-crossed the globe)? Press to go a look at a map, or a "smart" timeline that traces Weatherford'south steps–without spoiling parts of the story you haven't nevertheless reached. Ratliff's own piece, about a heist in Sweden, begins with a "prologue" of security-camera footage of the team making off with the loot. Every story besides has an audio feature where you tin listen to the author read the story; the text scrolls all the while, keeping stride with the author's vox. (For a Q&A with Rabb on the Atavist'due south design, click here.)

And so it looks pretty, has the "cool" gene, and might actually deliver on some of the innovations in reading that devices like the Kindle and iPad have been promising for a while. But how will it make coin? Atavist'due south overhead is very low, says Ratliff; editorial and design meetings tend to occur at a Brooklyn Heights pub. And the pay scale is one that, as in book publishing, is depression-risk, rewarding performance. Rather than pay a per-give-and-take rate, the venture offers interested authors a minor fee ("Information technology has iii zeroes afterward it, not two," says Ratliff. "It'south not an honorarium.") Writers also make a percentage of the sales–something just shy of 50%, promises Ratliff. If your story is a delinquent viral striking, and manages to sell 20,000 downloads, y'all're looking at a squeamish fee to rival anything a tiptop magazine would take fetched you. Even if you don't strike it rich, writing for Atavist is a take a chance for authors go to identify that 12,000-discussion slice that no one else will have, that isn't quite ripe for a volume, or that got killed at another magazine for being too long or not topical enough.

The publishers, like Amazon or Apple tree, have a 30% cut; Atavist itself as well takes a share. "The large missing thing in profitability is that we tin can't work for free forever," says Ratliff, referring to himself and Rabb. Only the two have disinterestedness stakes in the company that they hope will pay off over time; a aureate-star panel of occasional advisers are similarly compensated with a stake in the venture. "Nosotros recollect this can be a sustainable and profitable venture on its own equally a publishing thing," says Ratliff, adding that he and Rabb will also be licensing the software Rabb has developed for app-edifice, meaning another revenue stream.

Asked what makes Atavist a "boutique" publishing venture, Ratliff laughs. "'Boutique' tin exist interpreted as some sort of euphemism for non having any resources," he says. "But actually we're using that word to evoke an thought that we're being very conscientious most what we choose." Ratliff has had coffee with some 30 top writers, he says, and chatting on the phone with about as many more than. A select few stories are in the pipeline, including three that he thinks are in very proficient shape and should probable exist available presently.

And how about the name, Atavist? For years, world wide web.atavist.internet was Ratliff's personal and professional person website; he but liked the word (an atavism is a biological trait that reemerges subsequently laying fallow). Afterwards hashing out countless other possible titles for the new venture, Ratliff, Thompson, and Rabb decided that the URL Ratliff had been sitting on all the while was perfect–since hither was a new sort of writing that harkened dorsum to something older.

"The closest affair would probably be chapbooks," says Ratliff, referring to a small-book class popular in the late 19th and early 20th century. "Nosotros idea about calling these non-fiction novellas," he muses. "Just that was either besides pretentious or too confusing."

For more than on Atavist'southward design and an interview with Jeff Rabb, click hither

Update 1/26: The two kickoff Atavist stories are being offered as function of Amazon'southward new "Kindle Singles" store, which launches today. Says Amazon, which had announced its intention to sell Singles final autumn:

Each Kindle Single presents a compelling idea–well researched, well
argued, and well illustrated–expressed at its natural length. From an
elaborate bank heist in Lifted, to Congolese rebel camps in The Invisible Enemy, to Jodi Picoult's moving portrayal of family in Leaving Dwelling house,
they offering nuanced journeys of both fact and fiction. This outset set of
Singles was selected by our team of editors, and includes works past Rich
Cohen, Pete Hamill, Darin Strauss, and Ian Ayres. Nosotros promise you enjoy
reading them as much equally we have.

The cheapest Single runs for $0.99; the virtually expensive (for now) at $2.99. The Atavist stories run $ane.99. Kindle Unmarried versions of the Atavist stories but contain text and some images–none of the additional video content.

Ratliff met with the Kindle Singles people a few months agone, and was delighted by the consonance of their views and ambitions for long-form digital journalism. "Nosotros got together and talked…this was the rare meeting where it was like, this is perfect."