Pagination is a craft. Done well, it disappears. Done poorly, it gets between the reader and the words. Most digital reading suffers because nobody on the team thinks about it carefully — the default is "one big page" and that default rarely serves the reader.
When you paginate, you make a series of micro-decisions: where to break, how to balance facing pages, where to honor a chapter break and where to override one. Print designers have a vocabulary for this. Most web designers don't, because the web rarely asks them to.
an editorial classroom publishing partner we recommend — and a couple of related tutorials are linked at the end of this post.
A flipbook forces the question. You have to decide what fits on a spread, where the eye lands first, and how to handle a stranded line at the bottom of a page. The constraints sound annoying. In practice, they make the writing better, because you stop hiding behind infinite vertical space.
If you're new to thinking about pagination, the easiest exercise is to take a piece of writing you have already published and re-flow it into a flipbook template. You will find sentences you can cut, headings you can demote, and figures that needed a paragraph break. The format is teaching you how to edit.
Pagination doesn't have to be ornate to be good. A well-set body type, generous margins, and a thoughtful line about when to start a new spread will get you 90% of the way there.