Banter is one of those skills that can make your book addictive. The kind of page-turner that your readers can’t put down because there’s always something going on (even if the action is gone).
Banter can make your characters feel real, compress backstory that can be perceived as info-dump, and even give your readers a reason to stay between big scenes. However, it can be underused outside of romance and is often misunderstood.
What this article is about:
Author’s note ✍
As a writer, the thing I would love to achieve the most with that book I’m writing is to keep my reader entertained.
I’m always looking for advice online and reading popular books more critically to understand how scenes work, and how they keep my attention on the page. I’m sure we’ve all come across a book that we can’t put down, in which “one more chapter” becomes another and another.
But I always ask myself how do I achieve that when there’s backstory to take care of or when the tension subsides in transition chapters?
What banter is
Your banter is dialogue that reveals the relationship between two, or more, characters. It’s more about revealing their dynamic than the contents of the dialogue.
When your reader reads banter, they may not learn much about the plot. But they can instantly recognize how characters interact.
Let’s do a quick example, using again, the overconfident but incompetent master necromancer and his talented apprentice from my previous examples:
The master necromancer flipped one of the pages from the daily newspaper. His feet were up on the counter that his apprentice had scrubbed that morning as usual, and while the day seemed carefree, there was a difficult quest ahead.
“Rope, a vitality vial, a floating brew, food…” the apprentice went through the contents of her backpack, both backpacks, and turned around to face the master. “What else am I missing?”
The master closed the newspaper. “Well, what about—”
“More water,” she said.
“Aha aha.” The master smiled and opened the newspaper again.
“And fire balls. We need those to be able to see inside the cavern.”
“You got it.”
Then, the apprentice dropped the two bags on the counter. “The cavern is two days away and two days back. We need to get the correct bone. One from a 500-year-old fallen hero. Not a year less, not a year more. If we come back with nothing, the client will kill us.”
The master huffed a laugh. “The client will not kill us.”
“The client said, and I’m quoting, I will kill you both.”
“Madame Charmaine loves me. She would never.”
The exchange is quick, but it tells us a lot about the characters. The master is half-present and half-listening. He agrees with the apprentice but does nothing, and he knows the client, but he’s used to charm his way out of things.
The apprentice is trying to get everything ready for the trip. She’s used to taking responsibility… for both of them. And even though she doesn’t say it, she trusts her master enough to bring him along.
Their relationship is clear.
What banter actually does for your story (more examples)
Banter does a lot of important things in a story. It gives you character work, relationship work, and pacing work.
What could’ve been a boring morning getting ready to go to the cavern, where the master necromancer and the apprentice need a bone from a 500-year-old fallen hero, became a layered scene.
But banter can do more than that.
1. It compresses backstory
Just think about it. Instead of giving your reader two pages of backstory to establish their relationship and how much they trust each other, you can just… show it.
Here’s another example:
The first reanimated skeleton lunged at the apprentice. She threw one of her best concoctions to paralyze it. But she had to force herself to use the femur she had just stolen from said skeleton to take down the second and third that lunged at her.
“You touched something.” The master positioned his back against hers.
“I didn’t.” She swung the femur at another skeleton.
“Explain this then.” The master gestured with his hand and then puffed grave dirt at four skeletons that were coming at him. The skeletons collapsed.
“Fine.” She swung the femur at two other skeletons. “I grabbed one of the rings.”
“Why do you think a precious object from 500-year-old dead person is so expensive in the market?”
“You don’t pay me enough.” She took down three more skeletons.
Here, we can see that they have fought together before. The master positions his back against the apprentice. They fight together, and he trusts that she’s capable of defending herself.
This scene also tells us that the apprentice is the kind of person who is resourceful. She’s fighting with the femur she just stole from one skeleton.
2. It controls pacing
After, for example, an action scene, your reader may transition into a scene with lower stakes. Not much may happen, but you can make your reader want to stay if not for the action, for the characters’ musings.
Next example:
The apprentice gulped down half the vial of vitality she had packed and offered the rest to her master.
“No, thank you.” He waved a hand toward the vial. “I didn’t use much of my vitality for magic back there.” He smiled, satisfied with himself, and crossed his arms.
The apprentice raised both eyebrows, shrugged, and drank the rest.
“We should keep moving.” She rose from where she was seated. “We can get to the inn by nightfall if we—”
Thud.
Something or, well, someone had fallen face-first onto the ground. Her master, as she suspected, had stopped being… vertical. So, she walked towards him at a slow pace and crouched by his side.
“Master?”
“Mm?”
She uncorked a fresh vial. “Do you need a vial?”
Silence.
“Master?”
“...maybe.”
Not a lot happens here, but this scene may endear the characters to your reader. The master necromancer may be annoying because of his overconfidence, but he’s human and makes mistakes. The apprentice doesn’t worry much, and she’s being slightly petty, but still helpful.
3. It builds subtext and makes characters feel more real
Real people joke around. We don’t want our characters to just share information cleanly. We want them to make the exchange interesting.
In romance specifically, banter helps characters flirt while they pretend they’re not (oh, but we know they are!). What they’re not saying is doing all the work.
Now, to our last example:
Madame Charmaine unwrapped the bone as if it were a present. She was, as always, two heads taller than any other man she’d met. Probably stronger too.
“Oh, you brought it back so quickly. And a strong bone. A femur nonetheless.”
“It is a very strong bone. I can attest to that,” said the apprentice.
“I’m impressed.” Madame Charmaine looked back at the master.
“You shouldn’t be.” He leaned against her counter and smirked. “You know my work.”
“I know your reputation.” She batted her lashes.
The apprentice, who was standing behind her master, exhaled. She just wanted to go back to the shop.
“You and your apprentice look tired.” Madame Charmaine smiled, and two very long canines glinted with the light of the lamp. “Perhaps you should stay here tonight.”
“Perhaps I should.”
“I have a room you’ll like.”
“I’m sure I will.”
The apprentice cleared her throat. She didn’t miss the glint on those fangs. “We should go. We have other clients.”
In this scene, the master flirts with the client, Madame Charmaine. And while the banter is nice, the apprentice seems protective of her master, or at least aware that things could go very wrong.
To recap, banter is about two people playing with each other, not just a skill one character has. The same character can have great banter with another character and be completely stiff with another.
What banter is NOT
Banter isn’t a style tag (like being “witty” or “clever”) or a personality tag for your characters (“he’s the witty one”). It’s a function in the story as we explained above.
Banter is NOT:
Not sarcasm. Sarcasm is a tone while banter is structure. You can banter without sarcasm.
Not jokes. Banter and jokes are different. A good joke can land, even if there’s no relationship dynamic between characters.
Not a personality trait. It’s a property of the relationship, not about the individual.
Now, the thing is, while these things may not be banter. They can definitely work in banter. Banter is the playing. Everything else is what the characters are playing with.
You only fail to banter when:
There’s bickering, in the sense that the playing stopped and resentment is taking over.
There’s bullying, one person was never playing, and the other is the target.
There’s just information delivery or info-dumping for the reader’s sake.
Which brings us to the last thing worth clearing up.
Why banter isn’t only for the rom-com and romantasy aisle
While I was doing research, I saw that banter is heavily associated with the romance genre. There were a lot of keywords as I did research around the lines of:
“how to write flirty banter”
“how to write romantic banter”
“how to write couple’s banter”
“how to write fliry banter”
And one that surprised me was “how to write political banter”.
All of that is fine. Banter is almost foundational to romance. The enemies-to-lovers need to be flirty without flirting and rom-com dialogue often demands it.
However, banter isn’t just a romance tool. It’s also a dialogue tool.
It works anywhere two characters have a real relationship. Which is basically every story that has more than one character in it.
You can still build banter between siblings, enemies, parents and their kids, long-term friends, and well, a master and his apprentice.
And scene
If you made it this far, you’re probably one of those readers who 100% their book. So, thank you for bearing with me until the end :)
If you found this article helpful (either as a writer or a lurker), consider following along as I figure out how to actually write that book.
And if there’s a writing topic you’d like me to write about, drop it in the comments.
How’s your banter game? Are there any books that you genuinely enjoy because of banter?
Take care and keep writing. ✍️
In my current book there's a lot of banter between the MC and her sister. So fun to write! Nice article, Jesse!
Ahhh, banter is one of my favorite things! 😍 Having grown up with seven siblings, I'm not usually fast enough to be in the thick of it, but I've been so steeped in it that it naturally works its way into my writing. (Although I do have the advantage of being able to take several hours to figure out the line that my character snaps off in half a second.) 😄
In my superhero serial, Dash and Car are the absolute masters of snarky banter, but if you broaden it out to dialogue that conveys history and relationship, there are so many more! Here's another favorite example from a pair of enemies turned reluctant brothers-in-law:
“Can’t be helped.” He threaded trembling fingers through his hair. “If we hadn’t met that scouting party—they’ll report back. The army will be on its way at daybreak. There’s no time.” He rested a hand against the wall and paused to gather his strength, but a moan from the pallet pulled my gaze around to see Rolfe struggling to a sitting position, his face like chalk in the lamplight. Eben growled. “Lie down. You’re under orders.”
“So are you.” Rolfe hissed the words through gritted teeth, his utter stillness a clear indication of the pain pulsing through his head and likely churning his stomach. “If you can defy her, so can I.”
“One of us has to make it back.” There was a barely concealed quiver in Eben’s voice, and Rolfe swallowed hard.
“Let it be you then. The army needs you more. Only a handful of people even care if I live or die.”
“That handful counts more than all the rest, and you know it.”
“Eben.” Rolfe forced his eyes open, and fire sparked in them beneath the pain. “This was my mission first. Don’t expect me to lie here if you won’t.”