Writing Banter & Flirting

 Notes from a Reddit thread about writing Banter between Characters

 

My personal rules:

1. Banter should never happen as dialogue for its own sake. You may think that by doing so you're giving your characters richness and depth, but what's actually happening is that they're having fun swapping in-jokes while your reader twiddles her thumbs. This relates to:

2. Banter begins when someone takes a dig a someone else, or tries to antagonise, poke fun or trick them, in the course of talking about other things. These 'other things' should be relevant to the story. By all means have the banter grow legs and derail the conversation.

3. Pay attention to where and when you use banter: it can serve you in several ways:

Prior to a sudden calamity, to enhance the impact.

During a calamity, to show the characters trying to bolster each others' spirits even if they know it won't work.

To distract the reader while you slip in an important clue or piece of information that they will kick themselves for not spotting later.

To end a conversation or scene that otherwise has no clear off-ramp.

To introduce the reader to a genuine point of tension between two characters when one oversteps the mark. LOTS of value here, with all manner of different shadings depending on how they and their other companions handle the overstep.

4. It's not necessary for characters to have a lot of history together before they can engage in banter, but in that case the character who STARTS the banter is revealing themselves to be cocky or seeking to dominate the conversation. Again: lots of value here since it puts the relationships between the characters on an ambiguous footing, creating space for them to grow together or apart as the story continues.

5. Whatever else you do, for the love of God DON'T banter about things the reader was not there to see. Banter is not funny to an outsider; it actively makes them feel excluded. So I guess there's an exception: if your intention is for the reader to feel the MC's isolation and exclusion or inexperience, drop in some banter that neither they nor the MC understand. But don't overdo it. Fair game for banter are events or character traits that the reader has already witnessed for themselves. In a real pinch you can reference a past event not witnessed by the reader in order to expose hypocrisy and puncture an ego that way, but try try try to avoid it if you can.

 

 

Banter can be written easier when you as the author know way more about the characters than the readers. I'd recommend you free write backstories attributes for your characters in order to help shape them into more dynamic personalities.

I'll also say that the banter I write in stories is necessarily connected to what's happening in surrounding events--or used intentionally to display some attribute of a character that I can't display otherwise.

 

 

There's really only two rules I can think of.

First up, don't have your guys break character just for the sake of delivering a good line. Not everyone is witty, not everyone has the same sense of humour, and not everyone cracks jokes in inappropriate situations. If you're doing banter and repartee all over the place you run the risk of erasing your characterisation and ruining the tone and drama of your scenes (I'm looking at YOU Girl Genius).

Second up, and this applies to comedy in general: it takes a shitload of time and drafts and rewrites.



How to avoid "Telling" when your character is expressing their inner thoughts?

You can't avoid it entirely, but as a general rule, compare something like "This made me feel angry" to "In that moment, I wanted to slap him." Both are just telling you how the character feels, but the less direct method feels better.

Give the reader bits and pieces of their inner monologue, but not the whole thing. A fun thing to do is play around with the contradiction between their inner thoughts and their actions.

You prick, you utter arsehole, I hate you so much thought Sam, as he shook the man's hand and said "Lovely to finally meet you" with a smile.

vs

Sam hated the man but he shook his hand and smiled because he knew it would be a bad move to upset them.

'narrate vs. dramatize' is that you narrate scenes that are better told and dramatize scenes that are better showed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5neBuGANxIk&t=291s

 

I like to break down flirting into two styles:

Compliments: This is when someone says something that's generally positive. It can be 100% genuine and kind or it can have more edge (ex. sexual comments about someone's body or behavior) or it can even be compliments disguised as insults.

Insults: This is when someone says something that's negative. It can range from light-hearted teasing to actually mean. The way to temper insulting style is with body language. Sort of a "forget what my mouth is saying and look at what my body is saying" thing.

You can have a bunch of different combinations of flirting (with book examples):

• Person A and Person B say things that are positive/complimentary/genuine (Autoboyography by Christina Lauren)

• Person A and Person B say things that are teasing/negative/insulting (Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, The Hating Game by Sally Thorne)

• Person A uses compliments and Person B uses insults (White Hot Kiss by Jennifer L. Armentrout, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green)

• Person A uses either compliments or insults and Person B is oblivious (Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson)

• Person A and Person B like to mix things up (Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston is sort of an example. The characters flirt one way in the beginning and shift over time)

Obviously, you need to mix things up to keep it interesting, but I think people generally have a flirtation style and it will depend on your character. If you are doing the last one, with one oblivious character, it makes sense that Character A would try a bunch of different things to see what gets a reaction.

People that are genuine, open, confident, and kind will be more comfortable doing the compliment flirting. People that are defensive, cautious, contrary, and snarky are more likely to use the insult style flirting.

I think of flirting as having a push/pull interaction. When someone says something flirty the goal is to either push the other person off-balance (to catch them off guard) or to pull them in. Compliments and insults can be used both ways. While most people will generally stick with one style of flirting (compliment or insult), they will almost always do a combination of pushing and pulling to keep the other person engaged.

Also, I don't think you should focus solely on how their flirtation works in the first meeting. Flirting is a way a couple communicates, so it builds over time. It also creates a nice sense of anticipation for your reader, so if you can keep your love interests flirting, but not actually getting together for a while, you can string along your readers longer and create some great tension.

 

Couple Great Poems

 

Sometimes a Wild God  by Tom Hirons

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

Your dog barks;
The wild god smiles.
He holds out his hand and
The dog licks his wounds,
Then leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say
And give him the worst of your food.
He sits at the table, bleeding.
He coughs up foxes.
There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,
You close the door and
Tell her it’s fine.
You will not let her see
The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey
And you pour a glass for him,
Then a glass for yourself.
Three snakes are beginning to nest
In your voicebox. You cough.

Oh, limitless space.
Oh, eternal mystery.
Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.
Oh, miracle of life.
Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,
Expectorate the snakes and
Water down the whiskey,
Wondering how you got so old
And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag
Made of moles and nightingale-skin.
He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,
Raises an eyebrow
And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.
Otters rush from the darkness.
The snakes pour through your body.
Your dog howls and upstairs
Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.
You dance with the sparrows.
A white stag pulls up a stool
And bellows hymns to enchantments.
A pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.
Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.
Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.
The hills echo and the grey stones ring
With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,
The house takes off from the ground.
Clouds climb through the windows;
Lightning pounds its fists on the table
And the moon leans in.

The wild god points to your side.
You are bleeding heavily.
You have been bleeding for a long time,
Possibly since you were born.
There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’
Asks the wild god and you say:
‘I was busy surviving.
The shops were all closed;
I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and
The snakes in your arms and
The wren and the sparrow and the deer…
The great un-nameable beasts
In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.
A cacophony of dissent.
The wild god nods his head and
You wake on the floor holding a knife,
A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.
Your wife is stirring, far above.
Your cheeks are wet with tears;
Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.
A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine
And brings the dead to life.

 

 

 

SIBLINGS             by Patricia Smith
Hurricanes, 2005

Arlene learned to dance backwards in heels that were too high.
Bret prayed for a shaggy mustache made of mud and hair.
Cindy just couldn't keep her windy legs together.
Dennis never learned to swim.
Emily whispered her gusts into a thousand skins.
Franklin, farsighted and anxious, bumbled villages.
Gert spat her matronly name against a city's flat face.
Harvey hurled a wailing child high.
Irene, the baby girl, threw pounding tantrums.
José liked the whip sound of slapping.
Lee just craved the whip.
Maria's thunder skirts flew high when she danced.
Nate was mannered and practical. He stormed precisely.
Ophelia nibbled weirdly on the tips of depressions.
Philippe slept too late, flailing on a wronged ocean.
Rita was a vicious flirt. She woke Philippe with rumors.
Stan was born business, a gobbler of steel.
Tammy crooned country, getting the words all wrong.
Vince died before anyone could remember his name.
Wilma opened her maw wide, flashing rot.

None of them talked about Katrina.
She was their odd sister,
the blood dazzler.