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Overusing a symbol
Jun. 5th, 2010 11:29 amShoshanna and I tend to have dinner in front of the TV at the end of the day so we can wind down. Inevitably, whatever show we end up watching contains a scene with someone vomiting. Doesn't matter whether that's a logical part of the plot (e.g., in House, M.D.) or whether it's really, really not.
It's become enough of an "in" joke that while watching an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer, Marge, and Bart end up inside the stomach of a large model of the human body in a museum (for reasons that don't bear going into), I turned to her and observed that our streak of dinnertime barf jokes was about to continue uninterrupted. As it happens, things worked out differently, and in the interests of good taste, we'll draw a discreet veil over the... ahem... ending.
What seems to be happening here is that TV writers have latched onto a new symbol they can use to grab our attention. Having a character lose their lunch is graphic (important when you only have between 20 and 40 minutes to tell a story), visceral (ahem), and much easier than actually thinking about what you're trying to communicate. As a result, it becomes part of the grab bag of tricks writers use when they can't be bothered seeking a more relevant alternative.
As writers, we have to find ways to resist using such symbols purely because they're convenient. There are times to use such symbols as a kind of writerly shorthand, and times when no other symbol will do, but more often than not, we can find another way to hook the reader (or viewer). And if we can't, maybe we should simply move through the scene cleanly and efficiently until we reach a different scene that offers a more interesting way to hook the reader.
It's become enough of an "in" joke that while watching an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer, Marge, and Bart end up inside the stomach of a large model of the human body in a museum (for reasons that don't bear going into), I turned to her and observed that our streak of dinnertime barf jokes was about to continue uninterrupted. As it happens, things worked out differently, and in the interests of good taste, we'll draw a discreet veil over the... ahem... ending.
What seems to be happening here is that TV writers have latched onto a new symbol they can use to grab our attention. Having a character lose their lunch is graphic (important when you only have between 20 and 40 minutes to tell a story), visceral (ahem), and much easier than actually thinking about what you're trying to communicate. As a result, it becomes part of the grab bag of tricks writers use when they can't be bothered seeking a more relevant alternative.
As writers, we have to find ways to resist using such symbols purely because they're convenient. There are times to use such symbols as a kind of writerly shorthand, and times when no other symbol will do, but more often than not, we can find another way to hook the reader (or viewer). And if we can't, maybe we should simply move through the scene cleanly and efficiently until we reach a different scene that offers a more interesting way to hook the reader.