Tension and Humor in Queer Romance: The Sweet Spot

I love a good laugh while I’m reading. It’s humor that often breaks the tension between two or more characters. Sometimes, though, tension is sacrificed in favor of that humor. The humor may even be sacrificed to keep the tension high.

The characters aren’t taking themselves or their relationship seriously enough. Sometimes they take things too seriously. Going to either extreme can yank your reader out of the story. They’ll argue, “Nobody jokes this much!” or “Goodness grief, do they even like each other?”

Scott Francis advises authors that “each scene needs some sort of tension” to keep a reader’s eyes on the page. Readers need to feel as though the obstacles the couple faces are truly insurmountable. Their growing attraction—physical and especially emotional—rides on how and when they overcome those obstacles to get to their happy ending.

Now, while Francis’s words may be true, Leigh Anne Jasheway has a stronger point:

Sociologists, linguists, and biologists say that our ability to laugh and desire to do so isn’t all fun and games, but actually serves two essential life functions: to bond with members of our ‘tribe,’ and to lessen tension and anxiety.

As you can see, trying to decide when and where to use humor in fiction can be frustrating, especially in the early drafting stages. If you’re anything like me, you want that first or second draft to be perfect. (Reminder to the both of us: That’s. Not. Possible.)

Let’s get into the principles of tension and humor as they relate to queer romance. I’ll follow that up with some advice on creating the perfect blend so readers will fly through the pages even as they never want your story to end.

Tension is at the heart of your queer romance story. A woman in a pink hoodie throwing her hand back while a woman behind her in a blue knitted sweater yells at her.

Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels

Tension in Queer Romance

Firstly, let me clarify the difference between tension and suspense in the realm of fiction writing.

  • In her craft book Create Story Conflict, Eileen Cook describes tension as “that moment when you know something may happen at any time, but it hasn’t happened yet” (p. 43).
  • Suspense, according to Jane Cleland in Mastering Suspense, Structure, & Plot, is when “your readers know something is happening, or might happen, to characters they care about, but they don’t know what that is” (p. 4).

Put another way, tension is about something that hasn’t happened, but you know it’s coming. Suspense is not knowing what’s coming. Even in queer romance, tension and suspense weave in and around your protagonist’s internal conflict. That’s what has your readers up in the middle of the night screaming, “I don’t need sleep! I need ANSWERS!”

Notwithstanding these minor differences, it’s vital that you keep your characters emotionally at odds until that climactic moment. For ninety percent of your novel, readers should wonder if these two (or more) folx will actually get themselves together. Readers should wonder if the obstacles are just this side of too much for your characters to overcome. Jordan Rosenfeld calls this “psychological danger” (also referred to as “emotional danger”).

[Emotional danger] is when a character stands to gain or lose a person’s trust, respect, love, affection, etc. When another character has the power to affect your protagonist’s marriage, livelihood, or standing in the community, you’ve entered the territory of psychological danger.

How to Write a Page-Turner: Craft a Story Your Readers Can’t Put Down (p. 13)

It bears repeating: Readers know the protagonists will get together. The question you need to answer for them is how that happy ending will come about. Tension puts their relationship at peril. It gives characters something to lose—their relationship. So, yes, pull them apart at key points in the story, keep that distance and conflict ramped up in those moments, and make readers think the whole thing is about to blow up in all their faces.

Humor in Queer Romance

Whether you’re a pantser, plotter, or plantser, humor isn’t easy to pull off in fiction, even in queer romance. Some authors try to force it, and the jokes or wit falls flat. Any kind of humorous dialogue or comedic faux pas should happen naturally, based on who your characters are and what they’ve experienced in your story.

I can’t tell you how to write humor. It’s as much a science as an art (like most creative forms of expression). Jayne Ann Krentz warns that “if you find yourself trying to force the humor in a scene, that’s a bad omen.”

Using humor in your queer romance also depends on what subgenre you’re writing in. Romantic comedies have different reader expectations than a romantic suspense, which has different expectations than a BDSM-themed book. To that end, knowing your own brand of humor “will help you create plots, landscapes, and characters that work well with [them].”

I’ve always had a dry sense of humor. Word play, dad jokes, really bad puns. My neurospiciness gives me a better look at the subtle meanings behind different types of jokes and humorous events. Thus, this scene from my WIP. Character A requested Character B provide him with an evening drink and some chatting.

I hadn’t seen him in a little over a week, though I did get home a couple days later to find two beers in cozies at the edge of my porch. Each had a sticky note: “Hi” and “Bye.” An index card leaning against them read, “There’s your conversation.”

I cackle every time I read this. It’s one of my favorite moments in the WIP thus far. Humor doesn’t just provide readers with a unique insight into the inner lives of your characters. It shows readers a little bit of who you are as well.

The Perfect Blend

Entertaining readers isn’t just about making them laugh. It’s using the protagonists’ entire spectrum of emotions and showing them through what’s said and not said. Character and scene sketches give you some wiggle room to experiment along that spectrum. Your queer romance story’s tension serves as the ocean crashing against the shore of the characters’ relationship, with themselves and each other, moving higher up the beachside with each influx.

Those waves represent a character’s resistance to change, the internal and external conflict they deal with in trying to accept that change, or the injustice of the change as a whole. They were just fine before this person came along, so if things don’t work out, they figure they’ll be just as fine after. “[Your task] is to build a believable attraction between your protagonists,” says Anne Gracie. “Then create believable obstacles to their pursuing that attraction.”

Next month, I’ll be covering structural framework choices and how you can use structure to work in your story’s favor. For the purposes of this blog, remember that romance stories (queer or otherwise) are usually two steps forward, one step back.

When you use realistic turning points, the story’s back-and-forth ride won’t give your readers whiplash. They won’t necessarily know exactly what’s coming (suspense) or even when it’s coming (tension). Lean into the kept secrets, the implied friction, especially if it means using humor to sub all over that text.

Humor and tension make your queer romance’s happy ending all the sweeter for your readers. Person in red-and-white checkered shirt and black pants holding hands with person in blue denim dress and white t-shirt.

To Sum It All Up

Personally, I love a smart-ass character. Give me humor, wit, or outright comedic buffoonery. At the same time, I want to read with bated breath when and how these two (or more) protagonists are going to overcome the tension that bleeds into their every interaction, for good or bad.

Humor and tension are equally important in your queer romance. Use the former when you want your readers to let go of some of the anxiety and fear they’ve carried over the past chapter or two. After all, Leigh Anne Jasheway makes it clear that “one of the major reasons [people] laugh is to let go of anxiety, tension, and fear.”

In other words, entertaining your readers isn’t just about making them laugh. The entire spectrum of emotions is there for you to explore—through dialogue, setting, and sensory details. Emotions keep your readers engaged and committed to seeing your characters get the happy ending they’ve fought to achieve for 300 or more pages.

That happy ending, though, is the key to the whole process. Make the journey worth it, for both your characters and your readers.

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