3 Writing Lessons From “The Simpsons”
The Simpsons is one of the most popular shows of all time, and a personal favorite of mine. Yes, even the newer seasons with their decline in quality. There’s just something about the titular family and their friends in Springfield. It makes great background noise when I’m working on something and is also good for a laugh or two if I need a break. I’ve even got it running on the background as I write this article.
As one of the longest-running television shows of all time with 32 seasons currently and another two announced, there are numerous lessons you can take away from The Simpsons. Not just writing lessons, either. It’s quite interesting to see how a thirty-year-old show approaches some topics that are still relevant today. There’s true wisdom hiding in the exploits of this middle-class nuclear family and its wry social commentary.
Of course, you’re here for the writing lessons. These three are not comprehensive nor the only lessons you can take from the show by any means. They are useful, however, and don’t just apply to fiction writing but are lessons you use any time your pen meets paper (or finger meets keyboard).
1. Be Honest and Connect With Your Audience
What makes a good episode of The Simpsons? It’s not flashy action or exotic locales or contrived plots that take half an episode to get going. Good episodes are built upon simple, human connection. The Simpsons is meant to portray a normal family that often finds itself in abnormal situations such as learning you have a filthy rich half-brother (and bankrupting him).
Just as often, however, classic Simpsons finds itself exploring an average situation. One episode might find Homer managing an up-and-coming country music star while another presents Lisa with a substitute teacher that exposes the flaws in Homer’s fatherhood. Both these episodes are filled with true character moments that allow us to connect with the characters because there’s a little bit of us somewhere in those episodes.
Connecting with your audience, and doing so honestly, keeps their attention and helps create a memorable article or story. It allows readers to see themselves in the text, and that’s what keeps them thinking about your writing for days to come. Assuming that the story says something, that is.
2. Substance Over Spectacle
One distinct flaw of modern episodes of The Simpsons are elaborate plots that don’t always go anywhere, or do so in a superficial manner. There are exceptions, of course; the recent episode “Diary Queen” is a great example of a modern episode of The Simpsons that treats its characters as well, characters rather than a means to distribute a wacky plot that sends the titular family to Japan or maybe follows Moe becoming a judge on American Idol.
This ties in with the previous lesson; those example stories are filled with substance and they really go somewhere. You don’t need wild plots to create a great episode. One of the most iconic episodes of early Simpsons is Season 3’s “Dog of Death.” The episode is about the Simpson family struggling with the cost of a very expensive surgery their dog, Santa’s Little Helper, needs and the consequences of their decision.
“Dog of Death” isn’t fantastical in any sense of the word. It’s a very mundane story, and that’s why it’s such a powerful episode. It looks at the Simpsons family in a the relatable scenario of a family without much money who comes across a very sudden expense with the lives of their loved one on the line. “Dog of Death” takes a substantial storyline that primarily happens in the familiar pink house to make one of the strongest episodes in The Simpsons’ 700+ episode run without flashy settings or guest appearances.
3. Say Your Piece and Move On
As I said before, The Simpsons is one of my favorite TV shows. Even so, I wish it would end. The time of the yellow inhabitants of Springfield has, in my eye, come and gone. In the eyes of many viewers, that time is long past.
This is the last, but potentially most important of these lessons. You’re unlikely to hold the audience’s eye if you wind on and on and on and on and on and — see, I bet you skipped over part of that, didn’t you? I don’t blame you, I zoned out while typing it. A story or article should come to a succinct close for maximum impact.
This final lesson works with the other two quite well. It’s hard to connect with your audience when only one out of every twelve lines has any meaning. Any substance to your story is like to be spread incredibly thin if you pad the story out with meandering paragraphs that go nowhere.
Think of this lesson in personal terms: Would you rather read a thousand words of purple prose that look pretty but fail to say anything meaningful? Or an emotional charged piece that clocks in at a mere 250 words, but hangs around in your head for the next week? The choice is yours.
