I want to make you laugh. But I don’t know who is reading this and what they (you) find funny. Also, I tend to joke by leveraging prior knowledge. Like when I throw out a zinger about something my coworkers and I talked about last week. I can make them laugh because I know what they know and I build off that.
I like to think I’m pretty funny. I crack myself up— not just haha, but the kind where I’m bent over gasping for air, squealing like a seal.
I want to make you laugh like that. But I struggle joking with people I don’t know well.
Which is why some people might be surprised to hear I’m a big jokester. My default mode around new people is earnestness. I need to know my audience before tossing a quip. Maybe I’m too precious about my reputation as a funny person, but I’d be mortified if my jesting didn’t get a laugh.
I’ve got a group chat with some former coworkers, who once said I was the funniest of our bunch, but it’s been a long time since we worked together and the chat is mostly for life updates, so for the past five years I’ve only contributed heartfelt notes. But a few weeks ago I couldn’t help myself and the replies were immediate: Are you being funny? I can’t tell!
I knew my audience, so I knew they’d find it hilarious, but it’s been ages since I’d joked with them so they weren’t sure how to take it. I guess you could say they no longer knew the deliverer. And maybe that matters on both sides?
That’s why I find writing humor tricky. If my reader doesn’t know me and I don’t know them, how do I make them laugh?
In fiction I like delivering humor through voice. It’s less pressure— hey, don’t blame me, that’s my character talking! But I’m currently trying to write a piece of satire, and I feel inadequate, like there’s a code to crack. The secret of what’s universally funny. We know what’s not— jokes that are mean, poking at someone’s expense, particularly if it’s something they can’t control. But what about that person with a mullet sporting a day-glo fanny pack? Are those questionable fashion decisions fair game since the person chose to rock that look? Or is that still making fun of a person, i.e. cruel?
I wanted this post to be funny and come to a nice resolution, but I’m flailing. I feel like the comedian who totally bombs.
I’ve heard standup comedy takes ages to learn, and the best comedians failed miserably when they started. Because the only way to get good at literally anything is to risk being terrible at first. Our mistakes teach us what not to do or say next time. So I’ll write my satire piece and if it stinks, I’m one step closer to figuring out how to be a funny writer. And hey, the hardest part about writing humor is also pretty great: I have no idea if anything I write gets my reader to even smile. (But come on, you did at the horse pic, DIDN’T YOU??)
Reading Recommendations
I haven’t read much aside from my own novel (over and over to the point I’m no longer sure its humor is funny), but I did manage to read this lovely poem by Kwame Opoku-Duku.
And I’m gearing up to read two books I’m excited about:
Sita in Exile by Rashi Rohatgi (out May 2), about a second generation American who moves to the Norwegian Arctic, and “draws upon Hindu mythology in a lyrical exploration of migrant sisterhood and brown motherhood in today’s Europe.” It looks gorgeous and we’ll be interviewing Rashi here in the coming weeks, so stay tuned!
Company (out October 3), is one of my most anticipated books of the year. It’s a linked short story collection, by Shannon Sanders, the 2020 winner of the PEN/ Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. Her work is incredible, and fair warning: I probably won’t shut up about this collection.
The post’s title came from this song:
(Yes, I cheated with the verb form.)
Also! Substack recently launched Notes, which I haven’t tried, but will today as it looks like a fun alternative to social media. You can use it to tell me I’m funny. (I’m kidding, I’m kidding…) Join by going to https://substack.com/notes or finding the Notes tab in the Substack app. Seriously, let’s connect there! We can discuss humor, share songs, and talk about what you’re reading and writing.
I hope you have a great week full of laughter! <3
The random discovery of THAT horse in the woods is the type of coincidence I too find ridiculous also