Prompt Engineering
Message Too Long — the Fix That Doesn't Butcher Content

The "message too long" error has a structural fix: split at paragraph boundaries into sequenced chunks with wait rules, instead of pasting fragments and hoping.
Overview

Everyone improvises the same bad fix for "message too long": cut somewhere near the middle, paste twice, and hope the model connects the halves. It usually doesn't — the second paste reads as a new document, and the answer covers half the content. The chunked package fixes the failure structurally: paragraph-aligned chunks, an explicit "this arrives in N parts" preamble, per-chunk acknowledgements so nothing is silently lost, and a final-chunk announcement that tells the model when the content is actually complete. This setup loads the classic case — running prose just over the limit, split clean in two.
Workflow

Stop improvising the cut
The engine finds the paragraph boundary; you stop guessing where the safe middle is.
Let the parts announce themselves
"Chunk 1 of 2" plus wait rules — the model knows more is coming and acts like it.
Trigger the answer at completion
The final chunk declares delivery complete; the answer covers everything, not half.
Why This Works

Structural delivery rules fix what re-pasting cannot
Acknowledgements catch lost chunks before they corrupt the answer
Completion announcement ends the answered-too-early failure mode
Best for

Chat users hitting message limits occasionally
Content slightly over the limit (2–3 chunks)
Anyone whose split content got answered piecemeal
Not for

Predicting the error before it happens — that's the Context Window Estimator's avoid-limit territory
Content vastly larger than the whole window — see the feasibility warning and the Handoff Builder
Use cases

Fixing the paste that just exceeded the limit
Stopping the model from answering after half the content
Replacing improvised two-paste splits with a contract
Customize This Resource

Opens this scenario in Long Prompt Splitter. Split to get the full chunked package — then adjust the chunk size and delivery mode.
Open in Long Prompt Splitter
Prompt Template

CHUNKED CONTEXT PACKAGE

DELIVERY INSTRUCTIONS
- Send each chunk below as ONE message, in order, starting with Chunk 1.
- Wait for the model's acknowledgement ("Received chunk i of 2") before sending the next chunk.
- Do not edit the chunk contents — the markers and the content are designed to travel together.

CHUNK STRATEGY
- Content: 23,322 characters, ~5,301–6,479 tokens (Prose).
- Target model: Claude Sonnet (200,000-token window; verified June 2026).
- Chunk budget: ~4,000 tokens (14,400 characters max per chunk) → 2 chunks.
- Delivery mode: Standard Split — Standard multi-message delivery — the model reads, retains, and responds at the end.
- Boundary quality: 0 section breaks, 1 paragraph break, 0 line-level breaks, 0 hard cuts.

===== CHUNK 1 of 2 =====
- This content arrives in 2 parts because of message size limits. The parts form ONE continuous document, in order.
- Read each part and keep it in context. Do not treat any part as a complete document on its own.
- After reading, reply ONLY: "Received chunk 1 of 2." Then wait for the next chunk.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.


----- END OF CHUNK 1 of 2 — do not respond yet; chunk 2 follows -----

===== CHUNK 2 of 2 =====
- Chunk 2 of 2 — part of the same continuous content. The earlier rules still apply.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

The lighthouse keeper kept two logs: the official one, ruled and stamped, where weather and shipping went to be remembered properly, and a second one, unruled, where he wrote what the sea actually said. In forty years the two had agreed exactly once, on the night of the great calm, when nothing happened in either book and both pages stayed blank in a way he later described as the only honest entry of his career. Visitors asked about the light, always the light, and he answered politely about lenses and oil and the rhythm of the beam, while privately holding that the lighthouse’s real work happened in the dark intervals between flashes, when the coast had to be taken on trust.

===== ALL 2 CHUNKS DELIVERED =====
- All 2 chunks are delivered. Treat them as one continuous document, in their numbered order.

TASK
[Describe what the AI should do with the full content]

NOTE
- Chunk budgets use character-based token estimates, not tokenizer output; model windows verified June 2026.
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