Episode 154

Graphic Narratives: Storytelling in Panels

Comics, manga, and graphic novels combine image and word to tell stories in a way prose cannot. In this episode, we examine what actually changes when storytelling moves into panels, and why many writers struggle when they approach the form with prose habits.

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Overthinking Couch Topics:

  1. What defines a graphic narrative?
  2. How do readers construct meaning across panels?
  3. What changes in dialogue when images are doing part of the work?
  4. Who is in charge of the story: the writer or the illustrator?
  5. What does it take to excel in this genre?
  6. What common mistakes should you avoid?

Music licensed from Storyblocks.

Transcript
Rosemi Mederos:

If you have plot bunnies coming out of your plot holes, it’s time for a writing break.

Today we’re talking about graphic narratives: comics, manga, and graphic novels, and more specifically, how storytelling changes when images carry as much weight as words.

Many writers are interested in writing graphic narratives and would likely be great at it, but they don't know where to start or they approach it with habits they learned writing prose. Sometimes the writer and illustrator are one in the same, but when they're two different people, what is the writer's role when it comes to the illustrations?

Graphic storytelling is a medium with its own narrative atmosphere, logic, constraints, and demands. A comic script is not just a shorter form of fiction, and the visual component won't solve problems the writing has not solved. If you want to write well in this space, you have to think visually, structurally, and collaboratively.

The Writing Break cafe is open, so let's head inside to talk about what graphic narratives are, what they do well, and how writing changes when the story is divided between image and text.

The first big difference for writers when working on a graphic narrative is that the story they are writing will not fully exist until the illustrations are complete. Description, dialogue, and pacing play off both the words and the images, and it can take time to get a feel for what belongs on the page and what needs to be left off.

Unless the writer is also the illustrator, graphic storytelling is not a solitary art. The final effect depends on collaboration. Meaning is carried jointly by the script, the art, the page design, the color, the lettering, and the rhythm of the reader’s eye moving across panels.

From the outside, comics and graphic novels can look simple. There are fewer words on the page, and the reading experience can feel faster. But that does not make the form easier. In some ways, it makes it more demanding because every word has to earn its place and every visual moment has to be selected with care. The page has limits, the panels have limits, and inside those limits, the story still has to feel complete.

Graphic narrative is a broad category that includes comic books, manga, graphic novels, webcomics, and other forms of sequential visual storytelling. A story is told through the interplay of sequential images and language. The key word there is interplay. The images and words are working together to tell a story. Under this broad category, different forms have distinct traditions. American comics have their own histories and expectations. Manga has a different visual language and pacing. Graphic novels often signal longer or self-contained works. What matters here is that all of these forms ask the reader to make meaning by moving through a sequence of images shaped by text.

A prose writer can tell you that a character is anxious, humiliated, distracted, and trying to conceal it. A graphic narrative can distribute that information across expression, posture, composition, distance, silence, and a short line of dialogue.

The reader is doing more than reading words. They are reading spatial relationships, transitions, emphasis, motion, and omission. They are filling in what happens between panels and inferring movement and emotional shifts from what is shown and what is withheld. That is one reason the form can be so powerful. It asks the audience to collaborate with the creators and with the page itself.

Every storytelling form has its native strengths. Graphic narratives are especially good at compression, contrast, and control of time. They can communicate a surprising amount of information very quickly. Environment, mood, social context, and tension can all be established before a character says a word. They are also excellent at managing contrast between what is said and what is shown. A character can claim to be calm while their body tells another story. A caption can frame an event in one register while the image undercuts it.

Pacing works differently as well. In graphic storytelling, pacing is tied to the panel. The size of a panel, the number of panels on a page, and the density of detail all affect how time is experienced. A single silent panel can slow a movement down. A sequence of smaller panels can create urgency or fragmentation. A splash page can create scale or impact, and silence becomes visible. A panel with no dialogue is not an absence of writing. It is a deliberate choice. It directs attention and gives the reader space to absorb what is happening without being told how to interpret it.

When you write a graphic narrative, you are not writing the final object. You are writing part of the final object. That means the writer must communicate enough to guide the story while leaving room for the artist to contribute meaningfully.

Many writers fall into one of two extremes. Some overwrite the script, trying to control every visual detail. Others leave too much undefined, assuming the artist will fill in the gaps. Both approaches weaken the work.

A strong script identifies what is essential. It makes clear what must be visible for the moment to land. It establishes the purpose of the panel and the emotional center of the beat. It signals tone and intention without overwhelming the page with unnecessary detail. The goal is not to describe everything the writer can imagine. The goal is to make sure the story can be seen clearly.

Writers coming from prose often have to adjust how they think about information. In prose, explanation can be part of the texture. In graphic narratives, that same impulse can quickly become excess. When the reader can already see the environment, the posture, and the expression, the writing does not need to repeat that information. This is where redundancy becomes a problem.

If a panel shows a character opening a door, the dialogue does not need to say it. If a character is visibly angry, the dialogue does not need to name the emotion. If we can see that the sun is setting in the panel, you do not need to tell us it’s sunset. Once a writer becomes aware of this, the focus shifts. Instead of asking how to include information, the writer begins deciding where it belongs.

This also affects language. Graphic narratives can support strong prose, but the language has to coexist with the image. Too much text can slow the reader in ways that do not serve the scene. Writers need to develop a sense of how much language a moment can sustain without disrupting the rhythm.

In graphic storytelling, pacing is both temporal and spatial. The reader experiences the story through arrangement. Panel size, shape, and sequence all influence speed and emphasis. This makes transitions especially important. What happens between panels is not shown directly, but it still has to be understood. The reader fills in movement and emotional shifts based on what is placed before and after each panel. If that sequence is unclear, the reader feels it immediately. Panel choice is a structural decision. A moment can be expanded to slow it down or broken apart to create urgency. A reveal can be delayed until a page turn. A reaction can be given space instead of being rushed.

Dialogue has to work within visible constraints. It shares space with the image, which means it cannot carry the entire weight of the scene. It has to work alongside expression, gesture, and composition. Effective dialogue is more selective. It carries voice and interaction, but it leaves room for the visual elements to complete the moment. It does not need to explain what is already clear. When dialogue becomes overloaded, it usually reflects a lack of trust in the visual storytelling. A better approach is to ask what the line contributes that the image cannot.

Graphic narratives expand what storytelling can do. They allow for different relationships between text and image, between silence and speech, and between what is shown and what is inferred. For writers, studying graphic novels sharpens core skills. You need to learn economy, emphasis, and subtext and understand that not everything needs to be stated directly.

Writers who are serious about graphic narratives should begin by reading them with a more analytical eye. Notice how pages are built. Notice how you slow down and where you move quickly. Notice how much is communicated without dialogue. One of the most interesting things I noticed when I first started reading graphic narratives is that the reader is in control of how much information they get from the story. A reader can look at just the images or just the text. They can speed through the whole thing, or they can slow down to really absorb all the details.

It is also worth reading scripts when possible. They show how decisions are made and how writers communicate with collaborators. And practice translating scenes. Take a prose scene and decide what needs to be shown, what can be removed, and where silence would be more effective than explanation.

Now, before we leave, here’s your overthinking prompt. You probably have a sharp imagination, but it might also help to sketch this out a bit. Take a scene you have already written in prose and reduce it to one page of graphic storytelling. Try to imagine the panels, what’s going to be seen up close, what’s going to be pulled back. See how that goes for you. If you do sketch it out, compare that page to the scene that you write.

Writers and illustrators of graphic narratives have to think more about what belongs in a story. Excelling in this genre requires selectivity, structure, and trust in what the reader can see and infer.

And yet once you start thinking that way, it changes how you approach every kind of writing.

Next episode, I promise the news. Nothing but the news. I don’t even know what genre I have lined up next for us. It will be the news. You gotta listen to it. A lot of interesting stuff coming your way. Until then, thank you so much for listening, and remember, you deserved this break.

Thank you for making space in your mind for The Muse today.

Writing Break is hosted by America’s Editor and produced by Allon Media with technical direction by Gus Aviles. Visit us at writingbreak.com or contact us at podcast@writingbreak.com.

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Rosemi Mederos

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Rosemi is the founder of America's Editor, a book editing company.
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