In Defense of Gross-Out Fiction,
or the (F)art of Storytelling

Let’s clear the air…
From the start, let me be clear about one thing. I’m not here to prove that gross-out isn’t gross. It is gross. So, “gross-out” is quite a fitting name for the genre. I’m not lobbying to change it to “bodily function fiction” or “potty humor prose.” I’m just trying to change some of the negative perceptions surrounding gross-out: that it’s stupid, worthless, or will lead to rude behavior — producing a sudden rash of farts and burps that rattles our nation’s morals. I’ll also point out some of the positives, especially the ones that relate to fostering a love of reading in reluctant readers.

Why is this type of humor so strongly appealing to kids?
Gross-out is insanely universal.

One of the bastions of children’s literature tells us that Everybody Poops. This is normal. Dav Pilkey, author of the Captain Underpants series, once said in an interview that the first few years of our children’s lives are about pooping, peeing, and the importance we place on both. Then once they’re potty trained, we avoid even saying the words. Yet everybody poops, everybody farts, everybody burps. Gross-out can make an immediate connection with the reader because it’s so relatable. There’s immediate recognition. You don’t have to explain why Fartsunami is a funny title to a child. Writing about topics that children can relate to will only help foster a love of reading.

Gross…I’m reading!
Once it’s caught a reader’s attention, gross-out can sustain more complex topics and introduce an expanded vocabulary. Certainly, gross-out, if over-used, can dumb things down. However, when used in moderation, it actually fosters the attention in reluctant readers necessary to cover more complicated themes. If other topics are too hard to follow or too hard to understand, lure them in with something relatable and funny. Once the readers are hooked with the farts and barf, they’re more likely to take in a larger word or more complex thought without blinking.

Ick…learning!
I’ve found that it’s a fun entry point into science as well. Throughout the Monster Juice series the kids in the books learn about the chemical composition of stomach acid found in barf and the strange way that schools of fish communicate with one another by farting.

Gross-out is the skin, not the bones.
Monster Juice is a story about friendship and of wacky individuals (whether they be quirky kids, or stinky old monsters) coming together to help save the world, and more importantly, each other. That’s the skeletal structure upon which I layer gross-out and horror.

Gross-out for me is just one element, one ingredient, along with friendship, honor, horror, and humor. It’s harder than you think to maintain the gross-out/tasteful balance throughout six books. You could write about barf all day if you want, but to make an enjoyable story about it takes work.

Gross-out can foster the (f)art of storytelling.
Through writing workshops I perform at schools, I’ve also found that gross-out themes can foster a love for writing as well as reading. Because of the subject matter I cover, when I ask a group of kids to come up with an idea for a story, they usually throw out crazy ideas like POOP ZOMBIE. And I go with it. “But what does the poop zombie do? What happens to the poop zombie?” I ask. Suddenly they’re forced to think about story structure — and then there’s no backing out.

Structuring a story with gross-out elements is the same as structuring any story idea. You have to follow the same structure whether you decide to pursue the zombie poop idea or the next Great American Novel.

Still not convinced?
In the end, whether parents like gross-out or not, we should never discourage any type of reading. Why keep a kid from reading something with potty humor, when other forms of kiddy entertainment — “SpongeBob” and “Shrek” come to mind — use elements of it? Why is it that books are under stronger scrutiny?

Gross-out is like horror, in that some kids can’t handle it. Unlike horror, however, gross-out’s validity is often questioned. Many wonder about the need to include these disgusting elements in books, or what kids could possibly get out of reading about barf. As I’ve explained, there are much more sophisticated things in these books than the sounds, smell, and feel of gross-out. Parents, teachers, and librarians just need to look beyond these things to see the heart of the books and realize that there are many kids out there who can be enticed into a lifelong love of reading with just a few farts and boogers.

The proof is in the pudding.
An 11-year-old girl wrote in to my tumblr page:

My name is Liberty and I really didn’t like to read books until I read Fear the Barfitron … thank you for making reading fun!

I knew of Liberty through her mother, who had previously reached out through tumblr to query me about Lexile levels for the books. I asked if what Liberty had said was true, and she replied:

Liberty is starting to enjoy reading and it’s because your books really got her attention and showed her that reading can be an exciting adventure. Thank you!

(I’d note that neither Liberty nor her mother made a fart joke in their emails.)