We as human beings don’t like to hear about “limits.” We want to do our own thing without anything holding us back. But consider the breadth of human imagination and all the choices you have as a writer and ask yourself, “How do I even know where to start with my story? Where do I go with it? How do I keep it organized?”
The truth is, stories need boundaries. That’s the difference between a story and rambling. Stories have a point, and they stick to that point. Telling a story about shopping at the grocery store is not going to include what your kids did at school that day. And a story about grocery shopping isn’t going to take as long to tell as, say, the history of Great Britain. Different stories have different limits. But they do need limits.
Some of us like to meander. We have so many ideas and we want to shove them all in. It’s fun to type away at your computer and watch the words flow. But knowing when to stop – ah, there’s the rub.
Here’s a metaphor for you: Imagine your story is like the human body. It’s made of many different complex parts. But all those parts are able to stay together and function properly because of the skin. Skin covers the body and keeps it in place. If we didn’t have skin, we’d just sort of … ooze all over. And who wants that?
It’s the same with writing. You have an idea, or two or three. Great! Now stop. Organize those ideas, don’t add to them. Stories have a beginning, middle, and end. A triggering event, rising action, climax, and epilogue. In other words, stories have structure. And structure, by its very nature, is defined by boundaries and restrictions. They aren’t bad things. They’re necessary for anything to make sense and have form.
Outlining your story ahead of time is a great way to know what your story is about, to know what to put in and what to hold back. Yes, things will shift and change as you go through drafts. But don’t keep adding and adding and adding. Know when to stop and refine what you already have. Put a skin on your story.
If overwriting is a major problem for you, then put a limit on your word count. Something miraculous occurs when you suddenly have a ceiling you can bump your head on.
When we are deprived of the freedom to do everything, we discover a new well of creativity. We choose our words more carefully. We find focus. Words matter more, so we experiment until we find the right ones. We cut away cumbersome paragraphs and sentences. Knowing there’s a cap on our writing makes us pay extra special attention to dialogue, plotting, pacing, and everything else.
Limits are good. They force us to be better writers.
Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
Let’s assume for a moment that we’re talking about a story featuring classic good versus evil. There’s a hero and a villain. They struggle with each other for victory.
What makes the story good? Lots of things, but interest is a biggie. We like interesting stories. Inversely, we avoid boring stories. What makes an interesting story? Conflict. The hero has to struggle to reach her goal. She must overcome obstacles great and small, and in so doing display character growth and maturity. At the heart of that struggle is their nemesis, the story’s villain.
Good villains go through their own struggles. Does that surprise you? The hero isn’t the only one who must overcome. After all, the best villains are the heroes of their own stories.
Like heroes, villains have goals. These goals run directly counter to the hero’s, hence why they clash. Now, a villain may be stronger than the hero, or smarter, or generally more intimidating. Which is great! It makes the hero’s victory all the sweeter. But if the villain always wins and succeeds in all their schemes right up until the last hour when the hero finally, conclusively defeats her opponent, well … It’s not a bad thing, per se, but it’s a tad predictable, and rather repetitive.
But what if the conflict becomes a ping-pong match?
The hero wins one round. The villain wins the next. They trade blows and barbs; they’re evenly matched up until the last. Now that’s a good story! It keeps the audience on their toes. You don’t know what’s going to happen next. You’re dangling in delicious suspense. “What if?” you ask yourself. What if this story doesn’t end happily? What if the bad guy wins? After all, the villain is a match for the hero. It’s just like ping-pong, which can get really intense if both competitors are skilled.
Okay, we know that good overcomes evil 90% of the time, but the illusion of doubt is introduced. Disbelief is suspended. We are caught up in the moment of the story.
Meaningful conflict is driven by a question that any good story should prompt in the audience: What happens next? It doesn’t matter if deep down we know the answer. The question should still be whispered on our lips.
Many thanks for visiting my blog. 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 friends and family know I’m a writer. They know that I’ve published one book and am currently working on a second. That arouses interest, and it invites a question. It’s a question I never feel I can adequately answer:
“How’s your book coming along?”
What do I say? Do I delve into the complexities of plotting and characterization or explain exactly how the story has evolved in the writing of it? Do I describe the process of drafting? Maybe we could have a chat about beta readers or commissioning cover art? Or perhaps I just jump into a lengthy spiel about how writing is so darn fun, the thrill you get when your ideas come together and your vision is realized?
It’s … hard to talk about my work with non-writers, not because of some elitist viewpoint that only writers can understand other writers, but, because I don’t have anything to show for my work until it’s done. That’s the weird thing about writing in the modern era. There’s no physical measure of progress.
I’m no artist or sculptor, whose progress is apparent from glimpsing the picture being painted or the block of stone being carved. I’m not an architect whose building people can watch being built day by day. I don’t even live in the era of the typewriter, when authors ground out their pages and stacked them into a pile. That’s progress you can see. But in this time of computers, all of my work is invisible. It’s in the hard drive, unseen and untouchable, and what isn’t there is in my head.
So, when people ask how my book is progressing, all I can really say, “It’s going good,” or “I’m on track.” Unless they want to be a reader reviewing my work, there’s nothing I can show them. The answer to their simple question – the full, glorious answer of what is going on inside a writer’s colorful mind – takes more than a quick word to fully portray. Microsoft Word documents aren’t glamorous. The writing process itself isn’t glamorous. You don’t see people lining up for tours to see authors at their desks. It isn’t fancy or visibly interesting. All the fun goes on in the writer’s imagination, unseen and unheard. It’s the result that grabs people’s attentions, and only the result.
Cal it a writer’s lament.
How’s my book coming along? Just fine, thank you for asking. But I can’t truly show you until it’s done.
Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
Submitting your book to beta readers can be a daunting prospect. What if they don’t like it? What if their suggestions mean you have to overhaul your entire book? What if the book is no good at all? Writing for the public is always underpinned by a certain amount of nervousness. But we can prosper from reader feedback, both positive and negative. Responding to how other readers view your work, as opposed to what you see through your own eyes, requires a willingness to adapt, but it also offers a broad range of new opportunities.
Every reader is a different person with different experiences. That means that everyone has different ideas about the same thing. The point of hiring beta readers is to gain an understanding of how your book is perceived by others. We as writers tend to get too close to our own work. It’s our baby, and we coddle it. It’s not that we overlook flaws or plot holes, but rather that we don’t even realize they’re there. Having them pointed out to us can be painful, sometimes.
But once we take a day or two to mull over the feedback and start our next draft, a whole new world of possibilities opens up. Weaknesses in the story can be turned into new strengths. Filling in plot holes unlocks new avenues for the story and new directions for character development. Glorious opportunities to make your story even better, to develop themes and plot points that never even occurred to you.
None of us are perfect writers. We’ll never be perfect writers, and we won’t see every shortcoming in our work or the chances to capitalize on half-formed ideas. We need an extra set of eyes to see what we ourselves cannot, both the good and the bad. A little encouragement and a kick in the pants to sharpen those details that don’t sit right with readers.
Every book we publish will be better than the one before. Your first book might be hot garbage. Your second book is a slight improvement. You third is a breakthrough in quality. And so forth and so on. Can’t do it without listening to constructive opinions, though. No writer is an island. If you plan on publishing your work, you’re going to need to listen to your readers. And often, they have a lot of worthwhile things to say.
Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
I like dark stories. I like stories that are grim and violent and seemingly hopeless. I like stories where the heroes are battered, bruised, beaten, foiled, and know great loss. I like stories filled with injustice and overwhelming evil trying to smother out the good.
I don’t like the darkness for its own sake. It’s true that I enjoy battle scenes and war stories and am not averse to violence. But I don’t enjoy the blood for its own sake, either. And I’m no masochist who watches bitter stories simply to sit alone later on and feel bad about the state of the world.
I like dark stories because the lights in them shine all the brighter. The sun is easily ignored on a sunny day, but it makes itself known when it breaks through the storm clouds. Moments of compassion and hope are all the more meaningful in a story filled with sorrow and cruelty.
We know what good is when it is juxtaposed against evil. We know what heroes are when they stand in the face of the impossible. We know what hope is when it defies despair.
When a writer understands that a dark story can still be uplifting and not merely a means to rage impotently against the wrongs they have known in life, then that story can be something great. We learn that life can be cruel, but we don’t have to be.
Did you like what you just read? Are you a writer, or just looking for fun content? Do you want more, but are worried about missing new posts? Please 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.
It hasn’t gone anywhere, and it won’t anytime soon! 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 – plus with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths of old never went away, they just moved on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
It’s the worst insult you can toss at a writer. It’s the deepest cut, the ultimate condemnation.
This reads like bad fan fiction.
Amateurish, incompetent, dubious, self-indulgent, outright moronic – these are the connotations those six words carry. Fan fiction is the respite of those who cannot write, but insist on doing so. Taking what others have already made and twisting it into their personal playground of poorly conceived plots. The refuge of the untalented.
Except it’s not true. Well, mostly.
Stories written by fans about their favorite movies or books or other franchises have garnered a collectively dismal reputation. They’re just a means for disgruntled people to “fix” stories they felt were ruined by the original creators or a way to make up romances between two characters that they happen to like. Now, these types of stories aren’t necessarily poor quality, but they tend to be made purely for the author’s own self-gratification. Consequently, quality isn’t an issue, only that the author gets what they want out of the story without regard for whether others will enjoy it (which beggars the question why it is posted online).
On the other hand, there is fan fiction that is comparable to published works, displaying not only raw talent but an understanding of plot structure, characterization, and reader engagement. Some of them are indeed so-called “fix fics” and romances, but just as many are original ideas, what-if scenarios, unofficial sequels, and other creative content. There’s the bad, the good, and the exceptional.
I wonder how many fan fiction writers could become successful mainstream authors if they so chose.
But what does this matter to you or me? What can aspiring writers who seek to publish, whether independently or through traditional publishers, find of worth in the world of fan fiction?
To put it plainly, writing fan fiction is really good practice for a writer.
I’ve written fan fiction. I wrote fan fiction before I published A God Walks Up to the Bar specifically to cut my teeth on writing for an audience. Fan fiction sites don’t require author names. You can make up any username or web appellation that you want. Anonymity can motivate shy writers, among whom I can be counted. The boldness inspired by a sobriquet can finally push you to take the plunge into getting your work out to the world. Plus, you get your first taste of criticism, good and bad, and develop the thick skin you’ll need and the ability to discern between worthwhile critiques and meaningless heckling.
If you’re a serious writer, fan fiction isn’t an exercise in self-indulgence. You want to tell a good story, and sometimes, building off a preexisting idea can be just the spark you need to flex your storytelling muscles. You can explore freely, experiment with writing styles to see what works for you and what doesn’t, and most importantly, you get to write. Practice, practice, practice. That’s how you improve as a writer.
And just as important, it’s completely free. The barrier of entry is even lower than for an indie publisher. No need for a budget to pay editors, beta readers, and cover artists. No need to maintain an author’s website. No need even for a business license! And the marketing is free, too. Fan fiction, by its nature, is about something already popular and well-known, so your writing can possibly attract more readers than your other, original works. Which is, well, not really fair, I suppose, but let’s try to stay optimistic here. More readers means more criticism means more improvement. Writing fan fiction is a fantastically low-risk method of developing your writing. It’s a great way to discover your own identity as an author without worrying about finances and other aspects of publishing.
All of which is to say, if you’re interested in getting into professional writing and feel you want to practice your skills and test the waters of public reception, fan fiction is a great starting point. And as someone who loves things to come full circle, I’ll just end by saying that someday, you may look back on these early experiments and chuckle … because now people are writing fan fiction about your work.
Did you like what you just read? Are you a writer, or just looking for fun content? Do you want more, but are worried about missing new posts? Please 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.
It hasn’t gone anywhere, and it won’t anytime soon! 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 – plus with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths of old never went away, they just moved on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!
We engage in dialogue every day. We talk with people face-to-face. We type emails, send letters, conduct Zoom meetings, send messages via social media. We even talk with ourselves. Any conversation we hold is a dialogue, and wherever there are two or more people (or you and the voice in your head) there is conversation.
Since dialogue is such a vital part of real life, it is reasonable to assume that it is also important to writing. And this is true. Characters talk to each other, and the manner in which they speak and communicate is important. Everyone has their own voice, their own mannerisms, accents, affectations, slang, tone, rhythm, and personality. Most stories are going to have dialogue of some sort. They tell the reader who the characters are, how the world works, provide information about the plot, and so forth.
But unlike the real world, where two people can keep a conversation about absolutely nothing going for four hours, writers need to be choosier about what their characters say. Every piece of dialogue carries weight. And it can serve several purposes that can improve and flesh out your story.
So, what does dialogue do for a story? What point does it have? Well, I respectfully submit three here for your consideration.
Characterization
We know what people are like through the way they speak. The things they talk about, how they talk about them, and what they don’t talk about all tell us who they are. People reveal their personalities and values through their words. Actions may speak louder than words, but words still count for something.
Is a character brooding and moody? Witty and optimistic? Intelligent and thoughtful? Brash and shortsighted? The narrative can describe a character as such, but their dialogue should carry through on that description. Different people talk differently. Just consider all the people you know. Do they all talk the same? Do they all respond identically to any given situation or topic? How do their background and experiences influence their words?
Furthermore, characters change over the course of a story. Consequently, their dialogue changes. Perhaps a rude character becomes kinder, and his words are sprinkled with more empathy and compassion. Someone may become obsessed, and her dialogue slowly becomes fixated on a single focus.
Or a character surprises. The stoic deadpan warrior cracks a joke at a key moment, demonstrating he’s not as humorless as he appears. The comic relief offers heartfelt insight that inspires others to action.
Worldbuilding
“You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?” “Should I have?” “It made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.” – Star Wars: Episode IV
“The Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough, but there’s no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed.” “I’ve heard of one. Supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable. The Black Pearl.” “There’s no real ship as can match the Interceptor.” Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
What is the Kessel Run, anyway? If you’ve only seen the movie, you’ll never know. But it’s a challenge for space pilots to navigate, apparently. And there’s the subtle implication that the speaker is a no-name making empty boasts.
The Black Pearl apparently is a fairy tale among sailors, setting up the supernatural overtones of the Pirates of the Caribbean film franchise. Also, the British Navy has some really nice ships and isn’t to be taken lightly in this setting.
Do people explain everything when they talk to each other? Do they launch into a five-minute expositional speech whenever they mention something the reader or viewer doesn’t know about? No, they generally don’t, unless it’s in an appropriate context. People in real life make offhand references to stuff all the time with the assumption that their conversation partner understands. Sometimes they do, sometimes not. But that kind of dialogue in a fictional world makes the setting feel more real. There are things that characters take for granted, for instance, and there are legends and folklore that have seeped into the culture.
Explanations aren’t always necessary. Characters talking about this or that thing that’s never followed up on is more like a real conversation than prefacing every explanatory statement with, “As you know…”
We may not know, but the characters do. And as long as it isn’t vital for us to understand, it makes for a fun bit of worldbuilding.
Story Progression
Amazingly enough, characters tend to take action when someone tells them something. Shocking, isn’t it? The king commanding his loyal knight, the messenger arriving with bad news, the lovers making plans to escape to a new life, the villain announcing his diabolical scheme to his archnemesis … Dialogue moves the story along.
Character motivations shift and change as people learn more about each other. Alliances are made and broken. Riddles are solved and treasure maps deciphered. The plan to take down the evil empire is concocted. Plot revelations are, well, revealed.
A story can’t move along without communication. Dialogue is a bit like a meandering river. Each interaction is a journey downstream from one point to another. It can take a while, and there are plenty of sharp turns, and the destination can be radically different from the start.
Sometimes, all a story needs to get going is a quick and innocuous chat. Things have a tendency to snowball from there.
And these are just three ways in which dialogue is vital to telling a good story. There’s plenty more out there. Feel free to share any that come to mind in the comments. After all, what is the comments section, if not another way to have a conversation?
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!
Tricksters are fascinating to read about and to write about. They’re the weirdos who exist on the fringes of polite society. They’re the ones who can get away with what other people can’t. They’re stick their tongues out at the world and make the rules work for them, rather than working according to the rules.
Tricksters are fun. They’re fun because, deep down, don’t we all enjoy seeing someone willing to say what we’re all thinking and doing what we wish we could? Tricksters are escapist characters. They pay back the jerks and the bullies, outwit the corrupt authority figures, and flout senseless and silly rules. We all enjoy our Robin Hoods and B’rer Rabbits.
Writing tricksters is fun, too. Writing the character of Hermes for my books has let me see the world from a different point of view. I suppose writing any character gives you such insights, but seeing the world through a trickster’s eyes …
They’re a surprisingly philosophical bunch. As characters whose primary role is to push boundaries and alter the status quo, they are naturally prone to questioning the point of things. Why are things the way they are? Why should (or shouldn’t) they change? Tricksters are the ones who can call out others for their actions and make the rest of the cast pause and think. And that makes for interesting writing. The archetype can fill all sorts of niches, whether the villainous anarchist, the secret mentor, the voice of reason, or the snarky smart aleck who gets all the best lines.
And then, of course, there’s the trickster as protagonist. Tricksters can carry a story all by themselves. By their very nature, they’re proactive. They get things done. The can save the day (or ruin it – protagonist doesn’t mean hero). Since the archetype is almost always transgressive in some way, he or she gets to give society a kick in the pants, usually by acting so outrageously or cunningly that nobody knows what to expect next.
Speaking of cunning, writing tricksters has also taught me a bit about plotting out, well, plots. I sometimes feel like we live in an age of fiction where schemes and trickery must be excessively complex. Writers like to create grand conspiracies, when a trickster is just as likely to tap you on one shoulder while standing on the opposite side. Committing a trickster like Hermes to the page has shown me that deception can be much simpler. Tricking people doesn’t really seem to be that hard. Often, it’s just a matter of reading people and playing up to expectations. Or remembering that most people just want today to be the same as yesterday and aren’t expecting to be hoodwinked. Then again, written characters also behave according to how the author has plotted them to behave, so maybe I’m just blowing smoke.
So, tricksters upend the social order. They slip into different roles with ease. They’re many things to many people. What they aren’t is moral, upstanding role models.
But …
What if a trickster tries to be moral? Is such a thing possible? Trickery is lying, and lying is immoral. Can you reconcile the trickster archetype with the hero archetype? Transgressing social values and upholding them? Can the two be melded? A liar with a moral compass? Can a trickster follow right and reject wrong? Can anything truly good come from trickery?
Very interesting philosophical musings, indeed. I’m still messing about with such notions in my writing. My version of Hermes is developing as I go, revealing new facets of his personality as my works progress. Tricksters aren’t simple characters, after 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!
What makes a story a story? What’s the fundamental element that every story has in common, regardless of genre, author, era, or medium? What is something that every, absolutely every, story must have in order to be a complete and whole narrative?
The answer: It ends.
“Oh, well done, Jake,” you might be thinking. “Congratulations, you jumped online to state the mind-numbingly obvious.” Well, yes, it is obvious. So obvious, in fact, that it curves back around to becoming easy to forget just how important it is that stories have conclusions. And, in fact, a lot of people nowadays seem to have forgotten that it’s important for the quality of any story, whether a book, a comic, a movie, a video game, or whatever, that it eventually comes to a stop.
Every narrative has a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is the basic structure. So, unless you’re going for something avant-garde, this is the way that every story is written. You start at the beginning, work your way to the end, then stop. Obvious.
Why is this so important? Because a story that never ends ceases to be a story.
Endings are important. Maybe they’re even more important than beginnings. Endings wrap up the plot. They give closure to the characters’ arcs. They tell the audience that that’s all, folks. Whether or not they satisfy us, endings close the loop. They give a story its shape, like how our backbones keeping us humans from being floppy, wiggly things squirming on the ground. A writer works her way toward the ending. And when she gets to the ending, she knows that there’s no more. There’s a boundary there, a limit that gives focus to what she writes, because she knows that she shouldn’t go beyond the finish line. Writers need their stories to end.
One of my favorite pieces of fiction is the newspaper comic Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson. It’s just fun, brilliant writing and art. It was also very successful. So successful, that Watterson could have kept it going for a long time. But you know what he did? He didn’t. When he felt that he had told every story he needed to, he chose to end the comic. Isn’t that something crazy? To end an ongoing serial at the height of its popularity? Not many people have the courage to do something like that. But the final Calvin and Hobbes comic is something special. It sums up the spirit of the work and ends on a high note. Waterson knew that his story needed its conclusion.
He was tapping into something ancient and mythical, believe it or not. All the great sagas of the ancient world have endings. The epic of Gilgamesh ends with the hero’s profound growth as a person. The tales of the Norse gods end with a world-ending bang in the form of Ragnarök. The Trojan War didn’t go on forever – it reached its climax in one final, bloody battle. In more recent times, J. R. R. Tolkien tapped into that same epic tradition with The Lord of the Rings. It’s a doorstopper, but it does have its finale. He understood what the ancients did – a saga isn’t truly a saga until it’s all over. The fates of the heroes and villains are fulfilled, and an era is finished. The world moves on.
If a story goes on forever, eventually it ceases to be a story. It’s just a never-ending spewing of words and scenes that melt into each other and lose all meaning and purpose. The story falls apart. The narrative goes astray, and the characters lose their very nature simply due to existing for too long. There is no tale to tell, just a desire to keep a dying horse trotting forward for as long as possible, and it becomes painful to experience.
Well, now, aren’t I getting melodramatic? Maybe it’s time to end this post. Before I do, here’s one last thought: Consider a franchise or story arc or series that went on too long. I’m sure you can all think of at least one. It had an end … but then it kept going. It’s still going, perhaps, and shows no sign of stopping. But you wonder why. Why doesn’t it just stop? It’s past its glory days, and you recall its height with bittersweet nostalgia. You may not even enjoy it anymore. It’s not the same. It’s lost the spirit and tone that made it fun in the first place. It’s clearly a walking corpse kept going by sheer inertia – and maybe by the creator’s desire to milk as much money out of it as possible. It should end. It needs to. But it didn’t and suffered for it.
The best stories are the ones that know when they’ve reached their stopping point.
What do you think? What are your thoughts on stories and endings? Feel free to share!
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!
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!
Jake W. Powell 