I am funnier in person – much funnier – than I am on the page, where I morph into a creature serious, dark, and sombre. I want to change that.
Luckily, Seattle is a UNESCO City of Literature with great writing resources, like Hugo House. So last November, I took a class on writing humor: Welcome to Writing Short Humor & Telling Big Jokes. Being funny on demand is hard! I have a new found appreciation for comedians.
I have also watched a lot of stand up comedy over the past year in an effort to observe and deconstruct. Some of my favorite comedians are Taylor Tomlinson, Ellen Degeneres, Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Bill Burr, and Eddie Izzard, to name a few. There is also this list. They all make it look so easy, the way they move pain through a tapestry of words and timing woven with endorphins that isn’t unlike songwriting (I would think, although what do I know: I’ve never written a song…yet). However, there is a formula to it. An algorithm. A recipe.
Jokes have a mechanical component that can be taught. Very generally, a joke has two parts to it, the set up and the punchline. The set up leads the listener to make an assumption about the outcome. The punchline shatters the listener’s assumption and replaces it with another equally applicable idea that matches with the set up. The surprise of discovering a different perspective is what creates the laugh.
It’s part of why I love comedy — any comedian that makes you laugh is helping you create a particular perspective, then challenging it and replacing it with a different one.
I’ll use a joke I wrote as an example:
“I’m writing a book on monkeys. It’s tough. Monkeys make a terrible writing surface.”1
And David Sedaris, a master at finding humor in tragedy, says this:
“Everything’s funny eventually. [Y]ou should celebrate if you get fired from a job or if your house catches on fire, or you lose a limb that’s not your writing arm. Make the most of it.”2
Humor is actually one of the highest forms of defense mechanisms to cope with pain.3
As I resume my writing practice, thrown off for the past two years by the building of a house and managing Cluster B personalities at home and work through courts and lawyers and conference rooms (these stories of toxic people warrant books by themselves), I haven’t been logging into the London Writers Salon like I used to, but exploring other writing group options instead, like The Narrative Method. I’ve only logged in twice so far, but one thing I really liked about it was the use of prompts for time-boxed, micro writing assignments.
Even the simplest comedy is always at least a little bit meta, making us aware of our awareness. Laughter is cognition examining its own navel.4
Speaking of micro writing assignments, I leave you with these practice jokes:
“What’s not to love about being a woman in tech? The salary is great, you’re surrounded by smart people, and, in order to survive, your preferred pronouns change to “he/him/his” eight hours a day whether you want them to or not. Lean in, bitches!”
Or maybe this simpler version is better?
“What’s not to love about being a woman in tech? The salary is great, you’re surrounded by smart people, and every time you lean in, your pronouns automatically change to he/him/his.”
And this:
“One of the benefits of growing up without a mother is that when my daughter accuses me of not understanding why she hates me at any given moment, she’s right. I don’t. My mom didn’t live long enough to bug the shit out of me.”
Speaking of not living long enough, last week marked the 50th anniversary of my mother’s death. RIP, Nancy Neylan Holmes. May 12, 1928 - January 24, 1974.
Things That Nourished My Writing: December 2023-January 2024
FOOD
Neb Wine Bar. A remake with the best ambience in the city.
Farm fresh eggs from the Ballard Farmers Market, every Sunday morning.
LITERARY
This book centered on trees is so good.
Shouts & Murmurs in the New Yorker.
FILM + TV
We’re obsessed with Fargo.
MUSIC
K Van Petten, a musician I discovered at Song Writers in the Round at the Tractor Tavern.
PLACES
North Beach at Discovery Park.
THINGS
I have a new appreciation for the mechanical simplicity of my Linus Roadster.
How to Write a Joke – Erikka Innes
Yes, rest in peace, Nancy. I know she's super-proud of you, Callie. And perhaps (now that you've brought it to her attention) she can take solace knowing she never bugged the shit out of you!
So happy to see you through your writing. We r moving frm NC to
Denver soon. To be helped and assist the girls w theirs…Lottie 2nd and Celia 1st.
Sarah