Comedy is Dead: Writing in the Shadow of a Giant
I sometimes say that my relationship with writing can be explained by the three Terries. As a child, one Terry made me think, “I want to write fantasy.” The second Terry made me think, “If people read this guy’s books, surely mine have a shot.” The third Terry still makes me think, “I shouldn’t bother. I’ll never be this good.” I’ll let you guess who the first two are, but Terry Pratchett is the third. He was a powerhouse of comic fantasy. His Discworld series, in a lot of minds, is comic fantasy. His are the books that other authors are compared to. He’s both the benchmark and the impossible goal. No one can live up to him and it’s futile to try.
To quote a review of one of my novels, “Not Terry Pratchett by any means, but fun nonetheless.”
And it makes sense. I personally idolize the man and his work. This was something I posted on reddit when I reflected on finishing reading the Discworld series about two years after Sir Terry’s death:
“Pratchett had an extraordinary insight into humanity and societies. He wrote about this uniquely cynical version of humanism, where being good is different from being nice, where goodness is a constant struggle, and where if any time we fail in that struggle, we open the door to injustice. But he never gave up hope. Gaiman is often quoted about how Pratchett’s humor is fueled by his rage, and it’s easy to believe. When Pratchett looked at the world, he was disappointed in us for failing that struggle. We need more people like Granny Weatherwax and Sam Vimes in the world and it’s a damn tragedy that we lost our only Terry Pratchett.”
As much as I admire the man and his work, I’ve always had this sense that I was writing in his shadow. I’ve internalized that feeling that I’ll never compare to him. How do I convince the world to give my comic fantasy books a chance when there are 41 Discworld books written by the master of the genre? Worse, I occasionally see this attitude that comic fantasy as a genre lived and died with Sir Terry. Is comic fantasy dead?
Well, no. I don’t think it is. Comic fantasy has always been a small genre, so it was easy for one man to dominate. I think an apt comparison is J.R.R. Tolkien's legacy. Just like Pratchett with comic fantasy, Tolkien defined the modern conception of epic fantasy. There was a time period when he was untouchable, when every epic fantasy novel was compared to him, when every publisher insisted that Middle Earth be the template for all new novels, and when readers both craved clones of his work and resented fantasy authors for trying to re-capture someone else’s magic.
I think comic fantasy is in that same place today. Sir Terry published his first Discworld book in 1983 and thirty-five years is plenty of time for his influence to start shining through with a new generation of comic fantasy authors. Obviously, most of us are influenced by Terry Pratchett. His integration of humor into plot lines that showed both the light and darkness of humanity without missing a chance for a quip has penetrated the genre. He showed us how to make comic timing work in prose. He sniped all the best jokes about fantasy tropes. But if comic fantasy authors can’t let go of our reverence for the man, we set ourselves up for failure. There will never be another Terry Pratchett, but that doesnt mean comic fantasy is dead. It just means that we can’t and shouldn’t let ourselves write in another author’s shadow. We need to learn what we can from the master and find our own voice, our own style of comedy, and hope that readers will laugh along with us.
To quote a review of one of my novels, “Not Terry Pratchett by any means, but fun nonetheless.”
And it makes sense. I personally idolize the man and his work. This was something I posted on reddit when I reflected on finishing reading the Discworld series about two years after Sir Terry’s death:
“Pratchett had an extraordinary insight into humanity and societies. He wrote about this uniquely cynical version of humanism, where being good is different from being nice, where goodness is a constant struggle, and where if any time we fail in that struggle, we open the door to injustice. But he never gave up hope. Gaiman is often quoted about how Pratchett’s humor is fueled by his rage, and it’s easy to believe. When Pratchett looked at the world, he was disappointed in us for failing that struggle. We need more people like Granny Weatherwax and Sam Vimes in the world and it’s a damn tragedy that we lost our only Terry Pratchett.”
As much as I admire the man and his work, I’ve always had this sense that I was writing in his shadow. I’ve internalized that feeling that I’ll never compare to him. How do I convince the world to give my comic fantasy books a chance when there are 41 Discworld books written by the master of the genre? Worse, I occasionally see this attitude that comic fantasy as a genre lived and died with Sir Terry. Is comic fantasy dead?
Well, no. I don’t think it is. Comic fantasy has always been a small genre, so it was easy for one man to dominate. I think an apt comparison is J.R.R. Tolkien's legacy. Just like Pratchett with comic fantasy, Tolkien defined the modern conception of epic fantasy. There was a time period when he was untouchable, when every epic fantasy novel was compared to him, when every publisher insisted that Middle Earth be the template for all new novels, and when readers both craved clones of his work and resented fantasy authors for trying to re-capture someone else’s magic.
I think comic fantasy is in that same place today. Sir Terry published his first Discworld book in 1983 and thirty-five years is plenty of time for his influence to start shining through with a new generation of comic fantasy authors. Obviously, most of us are influenced by Terry Pratchett. His integration of humor into plot lines that showed both the light and darkness of humanity without missing a chance for a quip has penetrated the genre. He showed us how to make comic timing work in prose. He sniped all the best jokes about fantasy tropes. But if comic fantasy authors can’t let go of our reverence for the man, we set ourselves up for failure. There will never be another Terry Pratchett, but that doesnt mean comic fantasy is dead. It just means that we can’t and shouldn’t let ourselves write in another author’s shadow. We need to learn what we can from the master and find our own voice, our own style of comedy, and hope that readers will laugh along with us.
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