Enjoyability over all else
Brilliance is not a requirement for positive reception or blockbuster success, but enjoyability just might be.
My husband and I like to have the radio on as we clean up dinner. Something about background music makes dishes more tolerable.
A few nights ago, Hook by Blues Traveler came on and I instantly started humming along. “Have you ever listened to the lyrics of this?” my husband asked me.
“Yes,” I started to say, but then paused. I knew the quirky breakdown bridge by heart, thanks to an 8th grade field trip to Washington, DC, during which my seatmates and I played the song on repeat on someone’s Disc Man for what felt like the entire bus ride. But the rest of the lyrics? I typically sung along to Hook in the same way I had mindless sung along to Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind for most of my life, yet another song from my childhood whose lyrics I did not truly process until I was an adult. (Who knew such a peppy song could be about drug addiction.)
“He’s basically saying the lyrics don’t matter,” my husband went on. “They can be completely nonsensical and if the melody is good enough, you’ll be hooked.”
I listened. I looked up the full lyrics. That is indeed what John Popper is saying.
Here’s the first verse:
It doesn't matter what I say
So long as I sing with inflection
That makes you feel I'll convey
Some inner truth or vast reflection
But I've said nothing so far
And I can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don't matter who you are
If I'm doing my job then it's your resolve that breaks
If at this point your brain has already jumped ahead to 🎶because the hoooook, brings you baaack,🎶 you’ve helped proved Popper’s point.
The whole encounter that night over dishes reminded me of an episode of Netflix’s This is Pop that I’d recently watched. This episode suggested something similar: the feel of a song—its general catchiness and melody and ability to get stuck in your head—matters more than any of the lyrics.
The writer of Britney Spears’s Baby One More Time shared that the lyric was supposed to be “hit me up on the phone one more time,” as in, give me a call, let’s talk one final time before this ends. But that was too wordy and didn’t work within the framework of the chorus. So what do we have? “Hit me baby one more time,” which on its own, doesn’t make a ton of sense. But hey, that song is a bop and it is still fantastic all these years later.
The Backstreet Boys also came up in that episode. I want it that way. What way? What is “it”? It really doesn’t make that much sense when you think about it too hard. But again, that’s not the point. The song was (is) a hit and everyone loved it. It’s catchy. It’s fun. It’s 100% enjoyable.
How does this relate to writing fiction?
Obviously songs and fiction are very different beasts. In many ways, a song IS its melody. Great lyrics are merely a bonus, whereas good words are definitely important in a book.
But I think there is still something to this idea of enjoyability trumping everything else. If a novel (or movie or TV show) is not enjoyable, all the ways in which it is brilliant don’t really matter. Because who is going to read/watch something that is a boring slog? Boring just doesn’t succeed. Neither does any story that leaves a reader/viewer indifferent. But if they enjoy themselves—if they have a darn good time hanging out with the characters and experiencing their world…? That is a story that can grow legs.
When I think about about all the blockbuster novels I’d read in my life, every last one of them has a level of enjoyability that is undeniable. Some were also brilliant, but brilliance does not seem to be a requirement for blockbuster success. 1
Writers naturally want to put their best work into the world. And I’m not advocating for anything but. If you’re not happy with your novel, definitely work to make it stronger and only share it when you are truly proud of it. But I do think we may (sometimes) take ourselves too seriously. We set the bar far higher for ourselves than most readers might.
I firmly believe that the average reader DOES NOT CARE if there are minor inconsistencies in a plot so long as the story is a joy to read. (🎶it doesn’t matter what I sayyy, so long as I sing with inflection🎶)
They DON’T CARE if something small is nonsensical so long as they can’t wait to find out how things resolve. (🎶It don't matter who you are, If I'm doing my job then it's your resolve that breaks🎶)
They DON’T CARE if the story is perfect so long as it’s entertaining. (🎶When I’m feeling stuck and need a buck, I don’t rely on luck, because the Hook brings you baaack🎶)
Don’t believe me? Let’s look at some examples…
Does it really make sense that a bunch of immortal vampires would choose to spend their days attending high school? (Twilight) No, not really. But millions of readers didn’t care because they were too invested in the will-they-won’t-they romance.
Does it make sense that Buzz believes he is truly the Buzz Lightyear but Woody, who knows he’s a toy, has no knowledge of the Roundup bunch and his own history? (Toy Story) Not really. But millions of viewers didn’t care because the movies tugged at their heartstrings and were clever and entertaining in the process.
Could a lot of war and loss been avoided if the eagles simply flew the ring to Mordor? (Lord of the Rings) Probably. But again, no one cared because the adventure was so compelling.
This isn’t to say that people won’t grumble or ask questions. I’m simply saying that if the story is enjoyable enough, people will forgive a lot—even minor plot holes.
So what makes an enjoyable story?
Before I continue, I want to point out that in the context of this post, “enjoyable” does not mean fun/light/fluffy (though a story with any of these qualities could indeed be enjoyable). I’m talking about the experience of reading the book. An enjoyable read is one that you do not want to put down, that you fly through (or savor), that you are enthralled by, that leaves you with a book hangover when you turn the final page.
By this definition, terrifying horror novels can be enjoyable. Dark thrillers can be enjoyable. Tragedies can be enjoyable.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to From the Desk of Erin Bowman to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.