Breaking Funny
By Guest | June 26, 2016 |
photo courtesy Flickr’s luz rovira
We’re so pleased Ann Garvin has stopped by Writer Unboxed today! Ann is the co-founder of The Fifth Semester, ‘where writers are mentored from inspiration to publication.’ She is the author of the forthcoming book I LIKE YOU JUST FINE WHEN YOU’RE NOT AROUND and the founder of Tall Poppy Writers. You can learn more about Ann on her website, and by following her on Twitter.
Want to write funny but don’t think you’re funny? Ann has something to say about that.
Breaking Funny
I’ve been teaching writing for a long time now and I often hear some version of this statement, “I’m not funny so I don’t even try to write humor into my books,” or “My books are about very dark topics and I’m not sure humor would fit in the story line.”
I think the response to both of these statements is to try to infuse humor, even if you aren’t naturally funny, even if you are writing about very, very difficult topics. Here’s why.
I’m going to borrow from my history as a nurse and a conversation I had with a male physician about labor pain. He said, “I’ve never been in labor, but I did have a kidney stone once and I hear the intensity is similar to that of having a baby.” I was both pleased that he was trying to understand but also irritated, as any woman might be when a man compares a microscopic piece of crust to an eight-pound human, but that’s a fight for another day.
Since I’ve had both a kidney stone and two babies I’m going to prove him wrong and work to sell you on trying comedy in the worst of situations.
No argument that pain from a kidney stone is intense. It is like a freight train that goes on and on without relief. The only way to manage the pain is to hunker down and get through it until you get some really good morphine. But, the fact that there is no break from it means the story is just a monotonous phantasm of the same old pain. This is so different from the phasic pains of prolonged labor. Once a labor pain comes and you ride the excruciating wave of it, there is a period of lessoning and relief. In that time of respite, a lot of thinking is happening: “Oh my God, are we done yet? Is there going to be another one? When? When is it going to hit? Can I get to the bathroom before it does? Am I going to vomit again? For the love of God can someone get my husband and his tuna breath out of my face?” (Sorry, that really was from my history.)
This is one of the reasons that people talk about their kidney stone occasionally but women talk about their labor often. It is a much more interesting story.
This is what we are looking for in a novel. We want changes in emotion, anticipation, conflict, pain. Interspersed between these episodes there can and should be quiet, scene development, neutral moments and, if you work hard at it, flashes of the total opposite of angst, which is where humor comes in. Humor is a break of sunlight before the clouds gather again, and though there is great desire for it to last, it never really does.
But, “I’m not funny,” you say. And I would respond, “I bet that’s not true.” I bet you make your friends and family laugh all the time. Plus, I’m not asking you to be Seinfeld here; I’m just asking you to find a moment where the humanity and humor might happen, and take a moment to acknowledge and highlight it before diving back into the drama.
Here’s how:
Tip #1: Be the joke you want to read. Make fun of yourself. I’m pretty sure you’ve whispered a joke to your friend at you’re kid’s school play, about the costume you made. Whisper that one to us; we want to laugh at you too. You have to be courageous about finding flaws and broadcasting them. We love to laugh by proxy.
Tip #2: Home in on details. Details are important in jokes. I lectured a whole college class with a splotch of yogurt on the crotch of my pants right where my toddler hugged me that morning. Yogurt and crotch are funnier than food and pants. Be specific with your humiliation. Readers love the details.
Tip #3: Surprise. Humor almost always surprises. It’s a left turn in a conversation that is supposed to go straight. “Hey Victoria Secret, stop sending your catalogs to my house; we only read non-fiction here.” It’s a small surprise, that tweet, but it’s a surprise nonetheless. It is also making fun of my insecurities in a way that most people understand.
All comedy is about something serious, or nobody would care or identify with it. When we see a video of someone tripping, we laugh because we empathize with his embarrassment. When someone’s dignity is challenged, we take a moment to nod at it and giggle because the stakes are high and we can see ourselves in those moments. Comedy is not necessarily about being funny. Comedy is about acknowledging humanity. It’s when you are in crazy pain, you can’t wait to welcome the child you carried in your body for months, but you also have to pee and you really don’t care if you hit your husband’s stupid shoes with the stream.
How do you inject your writing with humor? The floor is yours.
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
Laughed out loud that you offered us “the floor” right after a pee joke. Actually, smiled and chuckled often throughout this wise essay, so kudos for the self-confirming lesson! Great point about utilizing humility and self-depreciation, too.
Having said that, allow me to now carry on in a less than humble way. ;-) I set my stories in a fairly dark world, but I’ve always liked characters with a dark sense of humor. In my genre (epic fantasy) I consider Joe Abercrombie to be the master of this. I even enjoy giving my antagonists a sense of humor (or at least trying to).
It’s funny (ha!), but in all the years I’ve utilized beta-readers, no one has ever mentioned the humor in their critique… until recently. I’d always taken the “no mention” as indifference, and since it wasn’t mentioned as a negative, and I enjoyed it, I always kept it in.
Then along came my most recent (awesome) reader. She actually took the time and care to highlight everything she found funny. I was delighted to see how many “funny” marks I received. Even if this stuff makes only one other person laugh (besides me) it’s worth it. Thanks for the great tips!
Here’s what I would say to that. That means that your humor enhances the story and doesn’t take the story over. That’s exactly what we want. It’s probably the thing that keeps your beta readers reading without them really knowing why.
I’m glad your most recent reviewer acknowledged it so you can continue to do what you’re good at.
The humor should always enhance the story instead of shout through it. Nicely done.
Vaughn–“Self-depreciation”–good one!
To be even remotely funny in person, I have to be very lucky with timing.
To be funny occasionally in writing – those soft smiley moments you talk about – I am so blessed to have the ability to go back and rewrite, because the timing of the first attempts is funny in itself (but to no one other than me). Anything I get right comes from some quick impulse – and then the rewriting.
Just as comedians have to do the work to make what they do look effortless.
Your post is hilarious. Thank you for the morning belly laugh.
You are so welcome.
You are definitely right. Comedy can take some re-writes to get it correct and the timing is SO IMPORTANT.
I could write a whole post on timing but I’m not sure if I would get it right. Now you’ve given me a really good idea.
Lovely, thank you for my morning writing nudge.
I really enjoyed your article and found myself laughing over kidney stones and labor, remembering my own. I agree a lot of comedy comes from our fallen human condition. Although I don’t consider myself a humor writer, I do find all sorts of things funny, sometimes at inappropriate times, like the time Uncle Bill died and at the grave site my 4-yr-old asked whether he’d come back to life and I said, no, Uncle Bill’s like an annual, not a perennial.
I especially enjoy the way kids view the world and their misunderstandings are charming. The same for immigrants — I’ve been one in several countries and the possibilities for gaffes seems endless.
In my stories, some of the humorous moments come organically due to the character, but some have to be woven in during revision. Thank you for your tips.
An annual not a perennial. That is classic good humor at a perfect time (at least I think so).
I hope someone heard that and it brought them a little giggle of appreciation at the grave site.
That is right, humor needs the space to breath and the way to get it right. It needs a new perspective. I can see how being an immigrant would be the perfect place for that.
Thanks for reminding me that perspective is part of humor too.
Thanks for the article. Many years ago when I first started seriously writing and getting my short stories published, I realized my writing lacked humor. Since then, I always put in some form of humor in my writing. I think it adds another level for the reader to enjoy. I certainly enjoy reading fiction or non-fiction that uses humor.
I agree Stanley, I’m glad you think so too.
I think it almost always adds depth to a piece.
I don’t write with the intent to be humorous, I just write a story that includes ‘adaptations’ of things that happened in real life or bits of dialog I’ve heard before. I’ve been told more than once how funny my stories are but that wasn’t something I was trying for at all. That leads me to believe that sometimes the best humor you can write is when you just tell the stories that are worth retelling; the ones you would relay to family or friends in your own life.
I think that is exactly right and the best stories have lots of dimensions…humorous and otherwise!
Ann,
Many thanks. And I love this. “Comedy is about acknowledging humanity.”
Like many authors striving for the mix of elements, I have overlooked the power of humor. Though some say I’m funny in person, insecurity made humor on the page seem beyond my reach. So like a spoiled boy I’ve castigated it as cheap while secretly harboring jealousy toward those who have it.
Then last year . . . I sent the soberest of WIPs to an editor (ethnic cleansing) and he commented on the great flashes of humor in it.
Looking at the examples he gave, I realized though I didn’t have a sense of humor, the characters did. And by their being true to their humanity, it came out. In order to live with their pain they had to give themselves relief by expressing left-hand turns. Big revelation.
Last week I took a risk and wrote a self-deprecating piece for the local paper as a way of honoring my colleagues in the ambulance world, expecting it to be buried in some lost section. Result: praise from the editor and front page placement, left above the fold. Now that’s funny!
Tom–stop fishing for compliments. You often break funny in print, and you know it. I like what you say about your characters being funny, not you. I would add a well-worn truism on this subject that is still worth repeating: it’s usually the opposite of funny when characters are trying to be funny. The best comic characters are humorless, and this is exactly what makes them so hilarious–the absence of self-knowledge. George Costanza in “Seinfeld” is a perfect example.
That is nothing to laugh about (that is some serious praise)!
You should be aware, however, that the use of humor may be counter productive in a blog post. Like when your reader starts laughing out loud about tuna breath in the middle of the post, and has to stop reading while she wipes her eyes. :)
However, the humor did grab her and she did have to come back and finish reading. Great post!
Ann– As you say, humor is especially dependent on timing, which is one reason why it’s so hard to write about. You write about it very well, and your three points absolutely ring true to my understanding of funny.
“Humor is a break of sunlight before the clouds gather again.” This makes lots of sense. Humor can serve as a reset button, a sneeze that clears the reader’s head and intensifies the clouds that came before, and those to follow. But this use probably helps to explain why there are so few truly successful comic novels. The form lends itself to the essay or short story, not in a sustained way to book-length narratives.
About #3 in your list, “surprise.”
In the novel I’m just now editing, a character has traveled to Florida, and has been frivolously unfaithful to someone she truly loves. He comes to Florida, and she confesses to him,. She then tries to convince him he should forgive her. He leaves without saying anything. Two scenes later, the character is contacted by a third party:
“Hi, Brenda. It’s Noelle Harmon. I tried earlier, I left a message.”
“I was out. Just a second.”
Brenda set the cordless on the kitchen table. She snatched two tissues from the Kleenex box and blew her nose. She got two more, then picked up the phone. “All right, I’m back.”
“That happens a lot down here,” Noelle said. “Sinus problems. It’s the humidity, and chlorine in the pools.”
“What can I do for you, Noelle?” Eyes closed, Brenda had not ever wanted to talk less to anyone.
The reader knows what the caller doesn’t (and it’s worth noting that the caller is a predatory realtor). If this moment works, the reader is both amused, and sympathetic: how many times have we all been in such a situation?
Thanks again for a great post. More often than not, those who write about making funny come off like someone droning on about the nature of happiness. Not so with you.
Barry,
I think I clicked where I should have ‘returned’ or visa versa. Somehow I commented incorrectly. Any way-I shoot for that too amused and sympathetic. Sometimes is an inside joke to the reader and sometimes just a joke for the character. Either way people feel like they are on the right side of the joke.
Thanks for explaining this in such a wonderfully simple way. It helps to know I don’t have to try so hard to be funny.
I didn’t laugh about the tuna breath, though. I felt empathy, as I can only imagine how irritating that would be during labor. And I *like* tuna fish! HA!
SO IRRITATING!! lol
Some people are born with silver spoons in their mouth; I was born with a whoopee cushion attached to my butt. (Meaning, I was born into a family of amateur comedians.) When I started to write, an aunt reminded me to always add humour. And I’ve learned that it’s a lot easier to add humour than to try to write a humorous book. In fact, I’m at awe of writers who can achieve this goal. Yes, Ann, I’m bowing to you. (Or should I curtsy?)
Well, I don’t think I deserve the curtsy or even the bow. The book is funny and sad not totally funny. I tried that once but I just needed a break and now I write both.
Thank you though because I will take any praise available. :)
And my husband just reminded me if you feel the need to explain a joke it’s not funny. So…
Another very good rule!!
I will tell my dad that one. He needs it. lol
Ann, there are a LOT of gems in this post, such as:
“Humor almost always surprises.”
“All comedy is about something serious, or nobody would care or identify with it.”
“Comedy is not necessarily about being funny. Comedy is about acknowledging humanity. “
Spoken like a very funny person. Thanks for sharing these insights!
Thank you so much. I’d hug you but I’d probably inappropriately start to cry or something and then you’d be sorry you said anything. :)
Yeah, plus I might have tuna breath, and that could ruin the whole hugging moment.
“Comedy is about acknowledging humanity” — a great takeaway from this post. Too often humor, especially satire, devolves into a vicious personal attack or self-righteous diatribe. As a reader, few things turn me off faster. That calls to mind another adage/writing tip: “We have our first real laugh when we learn to laugh at ourselves.” Thanks for the post, Ann!
Christine,
What a great reminder for where to start with humor. I know what you mean about that vicious kind of humor. That’s another blog post. I love people and I want readers to feel the love even while I point out what is funny about them. I don’t want them ever to feel I have disdain for people.
Thank you for that reminder.
Tone is important as well as, message.
Ann
Ann, good stuff here. I was born slipping on a banana peel (and gracefully recovered, only to discover I was naked), so I recognize the buoyancy of humor. A good belly laugh is often the best cure for what ails you (and me).
The buoyancy of humor.
It does keep you from drowning doesn’t it.
Better put some clothes on, it’s a jungle out there.
Ann, I just finished reading I LIKE YOU JUST FINE WHEN YOU’RE NOT AROUND. The ups and downs, the brutal truth and the sneaky self-deception, would not work quite so well if the reader did not hear you chuckling in the background.
Humor, I believe is something that spurts out like the mouthful of fountain water that makes you laugh and cry at the same time. I am know by my acquaintances as a quiet, serious person … definitely not stand-up material.
Your story=telling ability is fine, well-honed, delightful, and sometimes poignant. I wrote an amazon review, which you are invited to read if you like.
As for me, I need some more Ann Garvin! Such a delightful, deep, amazing story.
Posted my review of Ann Garvin’s smashing latest novel: I Liked You Better When …. https://www.amazon.com/review/R1O849A277A4Y9/ … This is real life!
Mary Latela @LatelaMary mlatela@outlook.com
Ann, will Poppy Writers be open to an additional writer at some point in the future? I am definitely interested.
Mary!
What a wonderful thing to wake up to this AM. You make my heart sing. Thank you so much.
Wow.
We do take applications and you can apply to be a Poppy. The tab is on the top of our website. We are the nicest group of writers that is for sure.
Thanks again for your lovely words about my words. Let’s find each other online.
Ann
Love, love, love this post. Tweeted a couple of your best lines and will share the link to the post when I finish here. Also added your book to my wish list. Sounds like a terrific read.
I wrote a weekly humor column for 7 years for a Dallas suburban newspaper when my twins were three and I thought I might end up losing my mind if I didn’t find a creative outlet. I took classes with the inimitable Erma Bombeck, and one of her tips has always stayed with me. “Take the reader down a path, then do a quick switch in direction.” That is the surprise element that you mentioned.
I’ve compiled some of those columns into a humorous memoir I call A Dead Tomato Plant & A Paycheck. Maybe I need to polish that sucker and get it out in the marketplace.
I haven’t tried to inject a lot of humor into my other fiction, except for banter between characters, but you’ve inspired me to try to do a little more.
Erma Bombeck is my hero of heros. And you got to take classes form her, I could die. I met her at my college graduation–she did our commencement speech. We was amazing.
We are a sadder world for the lack of her.
Sounds to me like you need to get your articles out there and into publication.
Let me know if I can help.
Also, thank you for the tweets! I saw them. Lovely you.
Ann
I was always a huge fan of Erma Bombeck and had most of her books. I took one correspondence class with her, and bought several of her tapes on humor writing. I learned a lot from her, and, like you, was saddened at her passing.
Thank you for the encouragement for my project. I haven’t looked at it in a while, but I may dust it off. If you would have time and would care to read the draft, I’d be honored.
I love to Tweet things from Writer Unboxed. I learn so much from the articles, I figure it is a good way to pay it forward.
All, best,
Maryann