THE WEIRDER, THE BETTER

How to write nonfiction that sells by embracing the odd sides of life.

- BY ZACHARY PETIT

This might seem like a strange notion, but we need to rethink weird.

When I was a kid in the '90s, being branded "weird" was about as bad a label as one could get at school ... yet we'd all rush home to tune into Nickelodeon's “The Ren & Stimpy Show,” one of the weirdest kid's programs of all time.

Heck, as an adult, no one wants to be dubbed weird either, at work, socially, or even in politics, as the last election cycle showed. But when we cozy up to the couch at night, we're watching “Severance,” one of the weirdest (and best!) TV shows in years.

Historically, weird has long had a lock on great media at large. While I never had the pleasure of meeting any ancient Mesopotamians, they are responsible for one of the oldest surviving literary works, the Epic of Gilgamesh ... which I would dub one of the oldest surviving (and weirdest!) literary works, what with the angry gods and goddesses, a creature made from clay who turns into a man after a weeklong sex romp with a human, a king on the quest for eternal life. Heck, the DNA of most fairy tales is likewise decidedly gonzo—and yet those stories built one of the most successful media businesses of all time, The Walt Disney Company.

This is all to say, weird works. We may be weird-averse in the course of our social lives, but weird has long been utterly critical to culture. And that brings us to another curious myth at hand that desperately needs busting: that the strange side of life is only the domain of fiction scribes. Nonfiction writers are told to keep things levelheaded, even-keeled, objective, prose in a veritable suit coat (or straitjacket). But the truth is, weird just might be the thing that weirdly takes your writing to all-new heights.

Here's why—and how to begin throwing prose curve-balls that will entrance editors and readers alike.

Know your weird science.