So, in my last post I went on a bit of a rant about how I dislike how much quip humor is overused in today’s media. So, maybe you’re wondering what kind of comedic writing I do like. Well, lucky you! That’s what I’m here to talk about today.
In all seriousness, comedy is a great way to develop and humanize characters. We use humor in all situations, including dangerous ones. It relieves stress, it helps us relate to each other, and it can lighten a grim situation. Most everyone has a sense of humor. And you know what? Nobody’s is exactly the same. So what happens when two people pit their humor against each other? Well, sometimes a black eye, but in most situations you get the normal, casual banter that marks so many conversations in real life. And as in real life, writing banter can reveal a lot about what people are really like.
Banter is defined by Dictionary.com as “an exchange of light, playful, teasing remarks; good-natured raillery.” While I doubt anyone uses the word “raillery” in casual conversation anymore, this definition gets the point across: Banter is a two-way (or more) street. It is dialogue, and it is reliant on character interaction. Where two characters interact, you get development and characterization. You also get exposition explained in a palatable way. You can get plot progression, foreshadowing, romance, conflict, and all sorts of other things. Why? Because it is dialogue. Because it is character interaction. Because, unlike quipping, banter relies on sharing the spotlight with someone else.
Good-natured ribbing is a form of camaraderie the world over. Inside jokes and bad puns and the playful critique thereof illustrate the history of a relationship more succinctly and beautifully than a full paragraph detailing the backstory. Verbal sparring is fun to read or watch and can be laden with subtext that delivers multiple messages in a single conversation. Just check out movies and books with great dialogue. Well-written banter makes characters feel like real people.
And quips … well, people do quip in real life, but it’s a lonely game to play. It’s a one-trick pony. What happens when people get tired of one-liners? Banter is more flexible. People throw different types of funny at each other. To quip is to play golf: You hit the ball and off it goes. One and done. Banter is tennis. You hit the ball back and forth, leaping and twisting around to catch it and keep up the rhythm.
I promise my blog won’t turn into a campaign against types of writing I don’t like. I don’t despise quipping. But I do prefer variety and versatility in writing. Banter simply offers more options and has more applicability. Not everyone talks in one-liners. But everyone enjoys a spot of teasing and ribbing. Want to flesh out your cast? Add some banter.
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
We live in an age of quips. Quipping has gripped modern entertainment. Quick, glib, clever one-liners are all the rage nowadays. You see it in blockbuster movies, television, comic books, and general writing. Pithy turns of phrase to sum up a situation, shove humor into it, or just to show off how clever the writer is.
And like anything in excess, people eventually become tired of it. One-liners aren’t bad in and of themselves, but I feel that overexposure to any style of writing can sour people against it. Like eating ice cream and pizza three meals a day for a month, something you originally enjoyed now just leaves you feeling sick and disgusted.
Humor is very important. Without it, a story can feel lifeless and dull. But humor comes in many forms, and we aren’t limited to the simple quip. I’m not saying that quipping is bad in and of itself. James Bond can get away with his cheeky one-liners all day long. But variety is the spice of life. More importantly, not every story needs that type of writing.
Maybe I should start from the beginning. What is quipping?
Dictionary.com defines “quip” as “a clever or witty remark or comment” or “a sharp, sarcastic remark; a cutting jest.” And that pretty much sums it up. Quips are one-liners, punchlines, and statements to show off a character’s biting wit. They can be used to characterize and flesh out the tone of a story, but modern writers, especially in film and television, have become obsessed with this one form of humor. What happens when you’re exposed to one, and only one, type of funny for ten years? It becomes boring.
What’s worse, writers can fall into the temptation to constantly strive to outdo themselves and each other. Stories lose their focus and become quip-a-thons. What wacky thing will the hero say next? And how will it completely disrupt the otherwise somber tone of the scene? Because that’s what a poorly used quip can do: It destroys the mood. Too often, I watch movies that are afraid to end on a quiet note. The tone needs “lightening up” with some funny, silly observation. And suddenly, the characters aren’t taking anything seriously. And if they aren’t, why should the audience? Main hero in mortal danger? He makes a quip, and it’s just a big joke, no reason to be on the edge of your seat. A scene of exposition establishing the stakes? Sum it up with some pithy, self-aware remark that illustrates the characters are more concerned with pointing out cliches and proving how clever they are than getting the job done. Guess the audience shouldn’t care, either.
Can you tell I really don’t like this style of humor?
I used to. I enjoyed Marvel movies. I liked Arnold Schwarzenegger’s cheesy one-liners. But overexposure soured me against quips. No, let me revise that statement. It soured me against every main character in the story using quips. That’s the biggest gripe I have against the style, because it makes every character basically the same. Oh, sure, they might have different motivations, different backstories, different personalities, but they all sound the same. Same remarks, same puns, same tendency toward glibness. They all react the same way to a situation. And that is, I emphasize again, boring.
That being said, there are stories I enjoy where quipping is used. I like The Dresden Files, and the protagonist’s tendency toward wise-guy remarks. And I don’t mind James Bond’s use of hilariously callous puns after killing someone. Heck, I enjoy the Marx Brothers’ old films, and Groucho Marx is a machine at quipping. A bona fide master. And you know why I can tolerate these examples? Because they are the only characters in the story who rely on quipping for humor. They stand out because of it. Other forms of humor are used by other characters. Rather than being the default fallback for extracting humor, their smart-aleck words are used to define their character and place in the story. It’s part of who they are.
What’s that old saying? If everyone is special, nobody is. I don’t know about that, but I do think that if everyone is funny in the same way, than nobody is funny at all. Put some variety into your story’s humor!
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
I’ve never done one of WordPress’s daily prompts before, so I thought I’d give it a shot and see how things turn out.
For all the great drinks out there, my answer is really simple: Water.
Water isn’t exciting or fancy or showy. But after a long, hot summer day, nothing tastes better. After a vigorous workout session or a whole day without a chance to drink something, a cold cup of water is the sweetest thing you could ever hope to taste.
There’s something pure about water. It’s guilt-free pleasure. It’s not a cesspool of chemicals like soda, or sugary like juice or lemonade. It’s just water, simple water, and it is the stuff of life running through our veins.
I also realize that every drink of water I take is a privilege and opportunity not everyone has. Here in America, we don’t have to worry about waterborne illness or contamination the way that many other nations do. Heck, we don’t have to worry about not having any water at all. All I have to do is turn a faucet, and voila! Fresh water fit to drink, every minute of every day.
It’s simple. And that makes it very precious, indeed.
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
The eternal pressing question: What is art? What defines it, what is its nature, how is it differentiated from the common dross, and how do we recognize it when we see it? What. Is. Art?
Ask a hundred people, and you’ll get a hundred and one different answers. Nobody can seem to decide, though everyone, from the working joe to the professional critic, seems convinced that they know exactly what art is. The artistic merits of literature, film, paintings, and even video games are debated again and again. Is it art? But can we know, when the definition of art is as fluid as the fresh paint dripping from a canvas?
Maybe we’re asking the wrong question. Maybe we should instead ask what isn’t art.
Can this process of elimination help answer this great question? Consider the humble spoon. Is a spoon art? Well, most people would say it isn’t. You use it to eat soup and cereal. It’s a mundane thing. It has an everyday utility. It isn’t art.
What about a car? Is a car art? Well, it also has a mundane use: transportation from point A to point B. But look at car commercials and car shows. Cars boast aesthetic pleasures and pleasing design. They are promoted based on appearance, performance, improvement, and flashy lights. People collect cars. People analyze cars. Are they art? Or are they merely utilities passed off as art? And how do we know, unless we can define what art is?
This is getting complicated.
Why do Jackson Pollack’s paintings get hung up in museums but a two-year old’s paint smears don’t? What’s the difference? Aren’t they both paintings? And aren’t both paintings art? Well, the latter obviously isn’t art art because nobody cares except the parents. But everyone must care about Sydney Pollack since he gets public exhibits.
Nobody cares about spoons unless they try eating soup with a fork. But everyone cares about cars, one way or another. They’re both a fact of life, but one is just plain more noticeable than the other.
Nobody cared about the pipe until René Magritte put up a picture of one alongside the words, “This is not a pipe.” A pipe is just a pipe until it isn’t.
Maybe that’s all there is to it. Maybe art isn’t art until you decide that it’s art.
Until you care whether or not it’s art.
If enough people say that something is true, does it become true? No. No matter how many people say you can fly by flapping your arms, you can’t. But it sure is easier to think you can.
Is that all that art is? A shared belief? A social construct? Just the idea that if we belief something has merit inherent in its composition, construction, appearance, and intent, it rises above the mundane to become something with social significance?
But what about your two-year-old’s paint splatters? Is that art? What loving parent would say, “No”? To them it’s art. It’s more precious than everything in the Louvre.
Maybe art is more than just innovation, messages, and composition. Maybe it’s something more personal than that. Maybe art lies in how much it is valued by the individual. I happen to think cars all look the same and are basically just glorified boxes on wheels. I don’t see the appeal. Cars aren’t art to me. But to others, they are masterpieces.
Critics say something is art, and so we believe them. They must know what they’re talking about, right? Then, a hundred years later, the great art of the time is depreciated. It’s not as important. And new art replaces it. Tastes and preferences change. The definition of art changes based on what we think is important.
A spoon can be a piece of art. In some ways, it is by default. “Art” is a relative of the word “artifice.” Artificial. Manmade.
Maybe everything is art. But if everything is, than nothing is art.
Oh, to heck with it. Art is whatever you want it to be.
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
Don’t let the title scare you away. I’m not talking about specific politics or social issues. Rather, this is about how fantasy can be a tool for analyzing society undercover. That is to say, the fantasy genre gives authors a knack for talking about real life without actually talking about real life.
Now, the fantasy genre isn’t real, obviously. That’s kind of the point. However, fantasy’s detachment from reality can give it a very unique perspective on the world we do live in.
This comes, I think, from the fact that the fantasy genre can be used to observe elements of our world by substituting real groups, issues, events, or locations with fictional analogues. These same analogues allow readers to perceive them more objectively than if they were the real thing. Real-life issues tend to get our defenses up, consciously or not, and we let our own biases color our lenses. Fantasy equivalents are, well, fantasy, so we don’t view them in the same way, even if they are equivalent to the same social issues that otherwise get our hackles up. It’s a bit of a literary trick, really.
Whether or not a writer gets their message across to the audience depends on two things: One, whether the readers recognize the subtext, and two, whether they connect the subtext with the correct issue. Yes, we must trust our readers to infer what we want them to infer. And sometimes, alas, they don’t. All writers reach a point where their authority dies, and their readership draws its own conclusions independent of the author’s intent. So, you might very well have been writing a hard-hitting social critique using elves and pixies, but the audience comes away thinking it was about the virtues of natural conservation rather than the consequences of war.
On the other hand, maybe your story has no message. You just wanted to write something fun and light. Yet, for some reason, readers are convinced there’s a hidden meaning buried in your writing. Tell me, dear reader, what is the message of Little Red Riding Hood? Is it just a story about a girl and her grandma who are eaten by a wolf, then saved by a woodsman, end of story? Or is it about:
The dangers of nature
Man’s triumph over nature
Listen to your parents
Pay attention to the task at hand
Don’t trust strangers
Rebirth from death into a better person
A metaphor for puberty
A metaphor for sexual predators
A metaphor for rape
A metaphor for how people read sex into everything
Axes are useful for killing animals
If you think a wolf looks like your grandmother, you really should buy glasses
And so forth.
Maybe we don’t really know for sure? Maybe there is no analogy, but there is applicability. Applicability is a very different animal. It is the reader’s independence of the writer and ability to view the story through their own lives and beliefs. In short, they see the story as matching their own notions.
Or maybe, we’re just thinking too hard about it all.
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
Real life is hard. Can we all agree on that? Real life is really hard to deal with. If it’s not the troubles and calamities of real life intruding on our status quo, it’s the dreary monotony of everyday activities. Going to work, washing the dishes, walking the dog. Sometimes, we just hit a rut. What to do?
People are imaginative, and there’s nothing better at firing up the creative juices then boredom.
There are people out there prone to daydreaming. They come up with whole worlds in their heads. The really ambitious ones commit those worlds to paper. Voila! A new fantasy story is created.
Fantasy helps us cope with the real world. It is a form of escapism that gives us a few precious moments away from humdrum reality, a chance to catch our breath and maybe let out a couple screams, then return to the grind. A little fantasizing is good for our mental health. Relaxation and rest is a good thing, and fantasy is a form of that. A jaunt into a made-up world where heroes always win, good triumphs over evil, magic can make food and water out of nothing, and we can fly on winged horses is just … fun. That’s the point of fantasy. Just like some people like car racing or hiking or painting or math (such people do exist), so do some enjoy fantasy because it’s just plain fun.
To deny ourselves recreation is to trap ourselves inside a metal box at the bottom of the ocean. We can’t move, can’t escape, can’t even see the light. We suffocate under the inability to exert ourselves. Our minds along with our bodies atrophy from the lack of exercise. And from the lack of challenge. Fantasy is a challenge. Fairy tales and epics challenge us to see the world in a new way and ponder how these stories match up against our own experiences. And they let us see something new, period. Don’t we humans crave novelty? Why go on vacation, if not to “get away from it all?” And what are we getting away from? The ordinary and the familiar.
Fantasy is all that writ large. It is the unfamiliar and the extraordinary. A chance to wonder: What if?
And at an even more fundamental level, fantasy taps into that all-consuming human urge to create. We all want to create something. We tinker, we write, we draw, we brainstorm, we organize, we build, we muck about. We like to make things, whether things concrete or things abstract. Fantasy is creation. It’s a powerful impulse, the urge to create, and making fantastical worlds is the perfect outlet for what, I believe, is a basic human need.
Does fantasy matter? Absolutely. We can’t resist it’s siren call. To get away from mundanity, to satisfy our basic natures, to keep ourselves sane. Fantasy is very, very important.
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
Let’s be honest. With a question like that, and the fact that my blog is subtitled “Writer of Modern Day Fantasy,” you can pretty easily guess that the answer is, “Yes.” But, hey, did I catch your attention? I did? Good. Let’s dive into it, then.
Fantasy is an important genre. Myths and legends have existed for almost as long as humankind has. There is an almost natural urge in people to invent and make up lands, species, events, and other such things that don’t exist in nature. The urge to create things that defy natural law: flying carpets, giants, dragons, dryads, genies, wishing stars, talking puppets, elves, hobbits, fairies, people the size of your thumb, people as tall as a mountain, alien worlds, life on the moon, and so on and so on. The earliest myths probably were meant to explain phenomena that man couldn’t yet fully understand, like the weather or earthquakes. But even after science has offered its explanations, the fantasies endure. Do old habits die hard? Or maybe we need fantasy in our lives.
Consequently, fantasy is a versatile thing. At its heart, it is the telling of things that not only don’t exist, but can’t exist. There are no elves in the forest. There are no genies trapped in bottles. There is no Fountain of Youth or cities at the bottom of the ocean. But the stories are still told.
For a long time, though, there was a problem.
For the last century or so, fantasy got a bad rap. It was viewed as this sort of nerdish subject that is impractical and of no relevance to “real life.” Dungeons & Dragons was the epitome of loser geek culture for decades. It was a “loser” subject because, in part, it was something that wasn’t real – but people took it so seriously! Why make such a big fuss over the unreal? Why obsess over the rules for a game about fighting made-up creatures? If you’re going to obsess over statistics, at least apply that obsession to football and baseball, not orcs and hobgoblins!
For many people, deriving so much enjoyment from something made-up is just plain childish. Oh, when we are children, it’s fine to enjoy stories of knights versus dragons. Fairy tales are quaint little things that amuse us when we’re young. Then we grow up and enter the serious real world where we need to be interested in grown-up things. Like cars and sports and art and the latest celebrity gossip. You know, important stuff.
That association with the immature has been a stain on fantasy’s reputation for a long time, as well as its sister genre, science fiction. The dominions of nerds and other people who can’t handle reality. There were exceptions, of course. Star Wars, for example, was a major blockbuster in 1977. But by and large, fantasy movies and books and games were strictly niche. There was an audience, but a highly specific one.
Then things changed.
I think the Lord of the Rings film trilogy in the early 2000s was the big turning point. Here was a fantasy series with major, respected stars that took itself seriously. It had a big budget, it was being produced by a major studio, it had marketing and advertising out the wazoo. The critics liked it. It was art.
Suddenly, fantasy lost its stigma. It wasn’t so bad to admit you liked the genre.
Others followed. Game of Thrones was a biggie. And there was Stranger Things, which proudly wore its 1980s nostalgia on its sleeve. And what was big in the 1980s? Yup, Dungeons & Dragons. Speaking of which, a Dungeons and Dragons movie released last year was warmly received. Oh, how the tables had turned!
The fact is, there are lots of people who like the unreal. They like to step away from reality for a few hours. It is called escapism. Personally, I think part of fantasy’s bad reputation is that escapism is confused with retreat. One is the willingness to step away from your problems or worries for a little while to refresh yourself. The other is an ultimately selfish choice to ignore one’s real-life obligations in favor of never leaving the fantasy. But many non-fantasy fans view the genre strictly through the latter lens. A bunch of guys and gals without jobs living in their parents’ basements reading silly books about silly people in silly lands. Fantasy is for the weak, for people can’t handle their own responsibilities.
It’s not fair, really. J. R. R. Tolkien wrote fantasy, after all. You know, the highly respected scholar and linguist? A man with a very productive and well-balanced life? And it gets more unfair.
So, fantasy has hit it big, as I just mentioned. And why did it hit it big? Well, a few successful movies certainly helped. But also, you know, the average person finds out that people like Henry Cavill and Joe Manganiello play stuff like D&D and Warhammer 40,000. Hey, they’re not nerds! Fantasy must be cool!
Sometimes, the best way to get people to take something seriously is to find the right spokesperson. All this time, fantasy just needed better PR.
It worked. Fantasy is widely accepted now. People aren’t ashamed to say that they like it. Nerds aren’t social pariahs. Heck, most of them are running major corporations. And the people writing those hit fantasy movies? They’re nerds, too. That’s the other big shift in the fantasy genre in mainstream culture. Four, five decades ago, fantasy films and TV shows were mainly being written by people who saw it as harmless, inconsequential fun. But the people who grew up with those shows and films, the people who fell in love with them, are the ones calling the shots now. And their beloved childhood is anything but inconsequential. Fans tend to pour their hearts into their work, and the quality of the product (hopefully) goes up. The bigger budgets certainly help.
By and large, fantasy has found public acceptance. Fairy tales aren’t just for kids anymore.
But the question posed at the beginning of this article is only half-answered. Does fantasy matter? Yes, yes it does. Financially, socially, culturally, it matters very much. But why does it matter? And in what other ways does it affect us besides providing something to do on a Saturday night?
Stay tuned …
If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
Jake W. Powell 