What UX writers can learn from comics and graphic novels
A look at some of the things that comic book writers have in common with UX writers and content designers.
“A successful writer is a master of both text and visuals and understands how to manipulate the reader’s imagination by carefully modulating both elements.”
—Mark Kneece, The Art of Comic Book Writing
When I tell people that I’m a UX writer, they usually react in one of two ways: confused or disappointed. The role is still quite new and goes by many names depending on the company you work for, so I get why people are confused. And I also get why they might be disappointed, because what they want to hear is that I write novels or those amazing pieces in The New Yorker they never get around to reading. Writing for products, even if millions of people use them every day, isn’t exactly the sexy kind of writing you see in movies. I mean, I’m no Joan Wilder (IYKYK).
I like to remind myself that those of us in UX aren’t the only writers who don’t always get a lot of credit for what we do. There’s another form of writing that I often hear dismissive comments about, and that’s comic book writing. I’ve loved comics since I was a kid when I swiped my brother’s superhero classics and begged my mom to buy me the latest Archie as we stood in line at the grocery store. I was introduced to the incredible world of graphic novels in university when I studied Ghost World for one of my English lit classes (kudos to that prof). But not everyone is a fan. Case in point: you still hear people questioning whether graphic novels are “real books”.
Recently I was reading Alan Moore’s From Hell for the first time. At some point, I noticed that following his words from panel to panel on the pages of the graphic novel was similar to following the words in a product flow. Eyes darting from one balloon to the next, taking in art and text at the same time and deriving meaning from both. The similarities between UX writing and comic writing had never occurred to me before, but there are many. Someone writing for comics would be expected to understand how narrative and art are connected in the same way as someone writing for products has to understand how design and content are connected. Also, comic writers have to deal with the constraints of the pages and panels of the book, while UX writers are constantly dealing with constraints, everything from software functionality to localization guidelines.
Recognizing that I probably have a lot to learn from people who write for comics, I signed up for Alan Moore’s BBC Maestro class on Storytelling. Within the first few minutes, he said something that assured me I’d come to the right place: “Whatever kind of writer you want to be, you can improve yourself immensely by trying other forms of writing.”
I’ve taken classes focused on almost every type of writing, from science fiction and picture books to copywriting and technical, but never writing for comic books or graphic novels. In addition to the six hours I spent with Alan Moore online, I also made my way through a stack of books about writing for comics. At the end of it all, I came away more inspired by the craft than ever before. These are some of the ideas from comics and graphic novels that I’ll be taking with me on my journey as a UX writer.
Know your limits
One of the highlights of Alan Moore’s class was when he showed us his workbooks where he sketches out his words along with pictures. He adds a word count for each caption and feels that writers should know the maximums that they should be aiming for. As an example, a six-panel comic book page should have no more than 35 words per panel. This is so that the “artwork isn’t being squeezed”, as Moore says. I do a version of this in my work too, though it doesn’t involve cool sketches. Instead, I work in Figma, where I can see the content in context and understand right away if it makes sense with everything else going on, and also if any of it is “being squeezed”. In Strategic Writing for UX, Torrey Podmajersky shares some helpful limits to get comfortable with, like keeping button text to 3 or fewer words and chunks of text to about 3 lines each.
And limits aren’t just useful for character and word counts. I’m a big advocate for limiting ideas or concepts to one per screen. Here’s my logic: if someone is taking the time to read something so they can understand or accomplish something, I don’t want to take advantage of that time by including information that isn’t relevant. The content should stay focused on that one thing they want to know, not on the list of things we want them to know. In The Art of Comic Book Writing, Mark Kneece offers similar advice: “Beware of writing scene descriptions that call for multiple actions within a panel. Each panel should focus on one main action.”
Know when to use words…
In Making Comics, Scott McCloud makes the point that words can give even the vaguest image some meaning, because “they bring with them an unparalleled level of specificity.” He mentions that of course stories don’t need pictures to be told well, but when it comes to comics the two things have to work together “seamlessly enough that readers barely notice when switching from one to another.”
A big part of being a UX writer or content designer is knowing when a concept would be easier to understand with words or something visual. If you’re writing a short story and you want your reader to understand that your main character is happy, by all means, show that character living their joy instead of telling the reader how they’re feeling. It will be more effective. But if you’re working on a banking app and want your customers to know where to find their bills, it might be better to use the actual word “Bills” rather than some cute icon that they’ve never seen before.
In The Art of Comic Book Writing, Mark Kneece says something that I swear I’ve quoted verbatim in design reviews: “Words clarify things. Attempting to avoid words can be as disastrous as having too many. A balance has to be struck between too many words and not enough.”
…and when to get out of the way
“There will be occasions when the artwork does its job so well that the dialogue seems redundant or in the way. My biggest compliment to an artist occurs when I look at the page and say to myself that my dialogue is just in the way.”
—Brian Michael Bendis, Words for Pictures: The Art and Business of Writing Comics and Graphic Novels
Despite the many hours that I spend researching, writing, rewriting, and testing content for apps and websites, I love it when people don’t notice what I write. If I’m doing my job, the words aren’t getting in the way of what that person wants to do. They either understand what I wrote or the experience is intuitive enough that they don’t even have to read it. Either way, I’m happy. Some of the designers and product managers I work with are surprised when I drastically reduce the amount of copy or cut it entirely. Shouldn’t a writer want the words to be there? Don’t get me wrong, I definitely want to see words when they’re helpful and necessary, like in a well-crafted error message. But if the words are self-congratulatory, quirky or delightful at exactly the wrong moment, or full of jargon and complicated language, they need to go.
I think about what Scott McCloud says in Making Comics a lot: “For as long as people have been telling stories to one another, storytellers like you and me have wanted two things from our audiences. We want them to understand what we have to tell them, and we want them to care enough to stick around ’til we’re done.” That’s pretty much how I feel about my role as a UX writer. I want the person interacting with the app or website that I write for to understand what’s going on as they move through the task they came to do, and maybe even enjoy it enough to come back and do it again. If you work in UX and have never looked at a graphic novel for inspiration, give it a shot. You might be surprised. At the very least, you’ll get to read one hell of a story.
