Excerpt
Introduction
Many years ago, when I first broke into writing, I got some
pretty sound advice from a person whom I�ve always regarded as one of
my best mentors.
�Be sure to make the body round like a circle, then put
a straight line down the right side from top to bottom with a little tail
going off to the right,� Marion Osborne told me. �Good job. That�s
called an A, now let�s write a B.�
Writing didn�t come easy for me back in those days. For
one thing, there was a war going on in Korea and one of my brothers was a
Marine over there; for another, there were big chunks of wood in my writing
paper. I�m not exactly sure if one had anything to do with the other,
but in hindsight I think the Big Chief Tablet Company probably had to sell
us American first graders a lesser quality of paper in their consumer products
in order to support the war effort. Who knows?
The only thing I know for sure was that Douglas MacArthur wasn�t
making things any easier for us Trumans. While my brother and his buddies
fought in the Punch Bowl and Cousin Harry was having his problems with The
General, I was experiencing my own troubles with inferior writing materials.
But with Miss Osborne�s guidance, I persevered and made it through to
the Z�s by Christmas. Harry fired The General, and my brother made it
home alive.
Eventually, the North Koreans and Chinese agreed to a truce
with us and the South Koreans. And to show their good faith, they built a
big fence all the way across the country at the 38th Parallel planting many
thousand land mines between it and us. Then, in a gesture of friendship and
peace, we did the same, or rather the South Koreans did. They scraped the
land clean for several hundred yards between these two fences and staffed
both sides with hundreds of men, guns, tanks, and artillery pieces pointed
toward the other side. Ironically, some fifteen years later, I was conscripted
and sent to help maintain that �peace� along those fences.
But that�s neither here nor there. The point is, despite
all the difficulties I faced, I continued to develop my writing skills to
where I learned - I think it was about the eighth grade - you could actually
put two or more words together to form, what�s called in the trade,
sentences. And further, you could put several sentences together to create
paragraphs, then pages, chapters, and books. Don�t worry about these
technical terms; we�ll get into these later, and it will all start to
make sense.
So what I want to do in the pages and chapters that follow,
is impart to you all the vast knowledge I�ve learned since that golden
day in Miss Osborne�s first grade class at Pershing Elementary about
writing in general and writing humor in particular. We will explore the age-old
questions �Why bother writing humor?� and �What are you
laughing at?� and �Do you really think that�s funny?�
and �Where did I put my car keys?� We will look into the different
types of humor and examine why that is or they are. We�ll also examine
ways to compile, generate, and rat hole funny material so that when those
idiots ask you, �How do you come up with this stuff?� we can smile
condescendingly and tell them.
Finally, we will discuss the nuts and bolts of the writing
game � Developing your skills as a writer, and how to sell what you
write. We might even go into some actual markets where you could possibly
sell your wares. I don�t mean we�ll physically go into these places,
because� well, I don�t have time to meet with you all individually,
but we will go on virtual class field trips, which may or may not require
releases signed by your parents. I�ll have to check with my lawyer on
that. At any rate, I won�t guarantee you�ll make money on everything
you write, but you�ll at least have some brochures in your sales bag.
I�ve been given a lot over the years in my quest to become
a writer� mostly a humor writer, so now it�s time for me to give
something back. Not that I�m any Harry Truman, you understand, or Douglas
MacArthur for that matter. It�s just that I think I should share with
the world what I�ve learned about writing humor. It�s very important
to me that you think I have this wonderful altruism, because then you won�t
think twice about shelling out the price for this book, unless, of course,
you found it in Oprah�s trashcan, or some such.
Therefore, in the finest tradition of Miss Osborne and all
her colleagues who struggled down through the years to get me to quit clowning
around and sit down, I want you to spit out your gum, take those pencils out
of your nostrils, open your books to Chapter 1, and pay attention.
Are You Serious? Why Write Humor?
�I�d like to be funny,�
said Alice.
�Chop down fifty trees in
the forest,� responded the King of Hearts, patting his ample belly.
�Would that make me funny?�
�Oh no, of course not.�
�You are not funny.�
�Why would I want to be
funny?�
�I�m the one who wants
to be funny,� said Alice with a frown.
�See, you are already becoming
funny.�
�I�m serious!�
Alice stamped her foot.
�Of course,� smiled
the king�
Alice in Wonderland �
Lewis Carroll
If you really want to be a humor writer, you should get used to questions like
this:
�Do you ever do any serious writing?�
There are two implications to this question, or those like it. One is the
obvious � humor writing is frivolous, and therefore not important writing.
The second says, if you�re a humor writer, you�re somehow second-class
to the rest of the literati. We class clowns have always been tolerated for
our entertainment value; heck, some people even liked us. But our efforts couldn�t
be put on the same plateau with those who write romance or mystery or drama
or Westerns or� gasp (I�m not worthy, I�m not worthy)�
literary pieces.
It�s like the King of Hearts pointed out to Alice in the literary piece
Lewis Carroll wrote (see Satire, later) about a little girl in a ridiculous
world � before you can become funny, you need to become serious.
I wrote a literary piece once. I even got a magazine to publish it, and they
in turn nominated it for a Pushcart Award. I felt very snooty about that accomplishment
for a long time until someone asked me what I got paid for it and I had to tell
them two contributor�s copies and a nice certificate.
Now I�m not saying you�ll get paid a lot for your humor writing,
but you�ll have a better chance of taking it to the bank than you will
a story about a big white whale named Ishmael and a crazy sea captain named
Mobile Dick played by Gregory Peck. In fact, humor by itself usually has the
following pay scale: Minimum: Nothing; Maximum: Next to Nothing. I ain�t
(serious writers would never use that word) really going to recommend that you
try to become a humor writer in order to make a living. It�s good for
the pure fun of it, but I recommend writing magazine articles and such, which
are in much greater demand, and which pay way better. And remember, not all
magazine articles need to be dead serious. Inject your humor skills into them
and odds are you�ll have a better chance of selling them.
Here�s an example of a piece I did for an e-publication on the topic
of making money as a writer. It�s a humor piece and I made money on it�
not much, but it was more than contributor�s copies.
How I Made
$100 a Year as a Writer
It was 1966. Lyndon Johnson had
perfected the sad hound dog look he regularly sent into our homes via Walter
Cronkite�s evening news, wherein he said (Lyndon, not Walter) something
like, �We cannot allow the spread of Comminist agresshun. Therefore,
Ah will continyuh to send more young Amurican butts to Vee-et Nam [rhymed
with ham], not so much to stop �em, as to git in thur way.�
The spring semester where I attended
college had just started, and I was safely protected from LBJ�s clutches
by a student deferment from the draft.
As an English major, I had to
have a certain number of journalism hours to complete my degree and had enrolled
in a �Feature Article Writing� class. In the first session, the
instructor said, �To make an A in this course, you�ll have to
write and publish a feature article. That�s a feature, not some namby-pamby
story or poem, so all you English majors who signed up for this class because
you think you can write, had better pack up and leave now.�
There existed a great dislike
between English and journalism majors at that college. Journalism students
regarded English majors as effete pseudo-intellectual wimps, and we considered
journalism majors as arrogant unkempt bleepheads.
So with two-thirds of the class,
I gathered up my things and walked out, not because I didn�t think I
could write, but because the instructor was an arrogant bleephead. Withdrawing
from that class changed my life in two ways: 1 - I missed out on learning
skills for writing and selling feature articles, and 2 - by dropping the class,
I fell below the minimum requirement to qualify as a full-time student, so
LBJ�s minions at Selective Service put me on the fast track to the Orient.
Fast-forward twenty-five years.
I had re-kindled my interest in writing. Had even taken a couple of refreshers
on fiction, poetry, and, yes, even feature article writing. I joined local
writers� groups and attended conferences. I wrote and wrote and sent
stuff out at a semi-furious pace, entered contests, composed queries, synopses,
cover letters. I wrote short stories, poems, essays, even a novel. I got many
rejections. Once or twice an editor wrote a personal note, some encouraging,
others sarcastic (journalism majors, I figured). �Keep trying, don�t
give up� came the stock reply from instructors and successful writer
acquaintances when I whined. So I did.
I offered to write humor columns
for local newspapers. A couple accepted, provided I�d do it for free.
For three years I did it for free. One year I won a contest for a short story:
two hundred bucks. Another year a magazine bought a humor piece I did: fifty
bucks. They never published it. Last year I sold an essay to a national magazine,
one with a New York address, for ONE HUNDRED - count �em - AMURICAN
DOLLARS! Then they re-wrote the whole thing and stuck my name on it.
Based on my observations and experience,
here�s how I figure you make money writing:
Be a woman.
If you can�t be a woman,
use a woman�s name.
Write gushy romance (this stuff
really sells).
Tell editors you�re a lawyer
or doctor or both (PhD�s accepted).
Tell editors you�re a woman
doctor practicing law. Tell them you�re anything but a white guy with
a degree in English.
Stay in school and don�t
take drugs.
Learn to write feature articles.
Don�t write humor.
Major in journalism.
Don�t offer to write for
free.
If offered $100 for something
you write that they�ll edit beyond recognition, take it.
I threw that piece in here for a couple of reasons. It�s free writing
I�ve already done, and this is my book and I can put it in if I want,
nyah. And it illustrates several techniques which we will cover in the following
chapters. For example, English majors versus Journalism majors. I�ve already
touched on this, but it�s worth repeating.
As much as I still strongly dislike Journalism majors, I�ll have to
admit they have a point. Yes, it�s true most of them are snotty and arrogant
and uncombed and have horns and vote for Democrats, but when it comes to writing
for money they are more better at it than us English majors. (Extra Credit Quiz:
There are a couple of English teacher Where�s Waldos in that
last sentence. Can you locate them? If so, send me your correct answers along
with $5 cash and I will send you a nice certificate stating that you done good.)
Journalism majors adhere closely to rules 11 and 12 from the piece above,
which essentially say, don�t write for free and sometimes you have to
swallow your artistic pride, especially if it means paying the electric bill.
I hate to admit that makes them smarter than me, but it does on that score.
Again the purpose of this book isn�t to tell you how to write magazine
articles. There are others, much more qualified than I, to do that. But I do
want to emphasize that feature writing and magazine article writing are far
more lucrative than just writing your basic humor. There is no law, however,
that says you can�t include one with the other.
But back to the question about serious writing versus humor writing. Writing
humor is very hard and very serious, and if you don�t believe that, you�re
a dope-smoking journalism monkey. Humor is a subjective quality. The ability
to write so that your readers find it funny on purpose is not an easy thing
to accomplish. It takes practice and keen instincts toward knowing how to use
techniques that can generate amusement ranging from a wry smile to falling down,
knee-slapping, hiccup-generating, snort-inducing, flatulence-forcing laughter.
Writing humor is a skill developed just as much as that of turning a whale
into a metaphor for evil, and a puritanical sea captain into a symbol of your
father that spring night when you were a senior in high school, and you came
in way late with beer on your breath.
Don�t kid yourself� well, you can kid yourself a little if it
means you�ll write better humor, but what I mean to say is, writing of
any kind is hard work. However, writing humor isn�t something anybody
can do. It�s not something every writer can do. There is a certain talent
to it, but like that obscure actor who played Robert Redford�s dad in
The Natural said to the young Roy Hobbs, �You really should see somebody
about that wart on your face.�
No, wait, that was Redford�s agent. The line in the movie was, �You
have a gift, Roy, but that�s not enough.� And just like in baseball,
when it comes to hitting and fielding and spitting and scratching your crotch,
talent isn�t enough. You have to build the skills; you have to develop
the craft. Here�s where I hope I can help you, by regurgitating on you
the meager knowledge I have regarding the subject.
Now I would be the last to admit� I mean, the first to admit�
well, no, maybe somewhere in the middle� that I�m no Roy Hobbs when
it comes to hitting homeruns at the ballpark of humor; I�m no Sundance
Kid when it comes to robbing the banks of laughter; I�m no� whatever
his character�s name was in The Sting when it comes to�
uh� I forgot what my point was� Oh yeah, I may not be the definitive
source for humor writing knowledge, but I do know some things, I have learned
some things, that I don�t mind passing along. It�s like my psychiatrist
says, �Every little bit helps.�
Read the synopsis of this book.
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