By Chad Morris
I love to laugh, and I love
it when a book makes me laugh.
Humor is like the frosting on the
cake, or the bacon on . . . whatever. It isn’t necessary, but it sure makes it
a LOT better. C’mon. Who likes cake without frosting? And . . . Oh wait. Check
that. Maybe humor isn’t like bacon. I’m not sure that bacon is optional.
There are many ways to try to weave
humor into your story. One of the easiest and best is to give us a good glimpse
into your main character’s thoughts as they move through your story. The more
we are in their interesting head, the more likely it is that something is going
to be strange or funny. What does a girl think when boys try to show off? How
does a boy feel about chick flicks?
For example, in one of my manuscripts a 14-year-old boy is going to have to discuss a musical in class. You can see the potential from a mile away:
Mrs. Finlinson turned her attention to the whole class. “Today is really quite entertaining. Now that we’ve finished reading Romeo and Juliet, we’ll discuss the similarities between it and the modern day musical West Side Story. Please take notes.”
Jacob was pretty sure he wouldn’t find it entertaining. Whenever he even heard the word musical, he had to fight his gag reflex. Discussing one that was based on Shakespeare sounded like nothing less than torture. The only thing worse would be an interpretive dance of a math lecture.
Another way is to set up a naturally funny character. Maybe one is overly confident, or always says what’s on his mind, or doesn’t get anyone’s jokes. I have one character who calls it like she sees it.
“I’ve done some acting—a few low budget webseries—nothing on the prime sites, but I don’t think that counts.” Carol paused.
“Wow. That’s incredible.”
Carol smiled. “Thanks, but statistically speaking that doesn’t make me more likely to succeed. In fact, it just makes me more likely to eventually have a large law suit against my parents, get a criminal record, abuse prescription drugs, and get divorced more than three times over my life.”
This is your chance to say what
you’ve always wanted to say—just do it through a character. It is an
opportunity to give that great comeback, or like us, have a character think of
a comeback entirely too late for it to still matter. You might point out what
you’ve always found funny (Why do they call the tiny candy bars fun-sized? If I
had to be a size that is “fun,” I think it would be as big as a bus. You have
to admit that would be fun.)
I think the best advisee is simply to
try. There is great humor in all of us. Risk it.
I once had a professor that told us
several times that he wasn’t funny. As he lectured, he occasionally paused and
said things like, “I see some of you are losing interest. If I was funny, I
would insert some sort of joke here, but I’m not, so deal with it.” His
insistence that he wasn’t funny was actually quite hilarious.
Roll with what has potential to be
funny to you. If you think it might make someone smile, take a shot at it and
review it later. You can weed out the mediocre stuff and just keep the best.
If you have tried to use humor
during your writing process, your manuscript might have all sorts funny and
stupid-what-the-heck-was-I-thinking moments. That’s exactly where you want it.
A lot of the work when writing humor comes when revising. Once you have all
your humor in place, ask yourself the following questions.
Is it funny? Did you laugh when you
read it through, or did you wonder what you were thinking? When you send it out
to beta readers watch for their comments on your humor. Is it working?
Does it fit the character? If it
doesn’t fit a character’s personality, it get’s chopped. Would a junior high
kid really say that? Would a mom do that? Character overrules funny—every time.
Does it fit the circumstance? If a
situation is especially tense, most people don’t crack jokes. Now, if that
happens to be what a character does when they get nervous, then full steam
ahead.
Does it distract from the plot?
This one is huge for me. If a whole point of a scene is a joke, then I think
that scene has probably failed (unless it’s a straight up humor book).Weave
humor into the story along the journey through plot points. If it takes the
reader out of the plot, I’d recommend chopping it—even if it is hilarious. I’ve
had to delete some of my best stuff. I keep them in a file, just in case I want
to go back and read how funny I think I am.
Does it do what I wanted it to do?
Is it helping us have a break from the action or tension? Does it help us
relate to a character, or just want to hear more from them? Do we dislike a
character more because of his/her insensitive jokes?
I’ve done sketch comedy with Brandon
Mull (author of Fablehaven and Beyonders) for years. We started in college. In
many ways, the man is a comedy genius. However, when I read his stories I can tell
he lets the story and characters lead. He is a writer first and comedian
second. He focuses on the meat, then he adds the sauce. Of course, the bacon is
also already on the plate.
Brandon Mull does sketch comedy?! I've only met him twice, but I can't picture it :)
ReplyDeleteI love humor in books. For me it's the difference between a good book and an exceptional book.
Mmmmm, bacon.
ReplyDeleteDid you say something else?
Yes, Angie, that was a surprise, wasn't it? I love to see the two of you together, Shelly.
ReplyDelete. . . so, when?
Awesome post! Yep. If you really want to know what goes through my head, my characters are the ones to tell you. :)
ReplyDeleteI love funny books but unfortunately I've never had a clue how to write like that. I guess it's another thing to add to my already long 'Work-On-It' list.
ReplyDeleteYes, Brandon Mull does sketch comedy. And he's really talented.
ReplyDeleteAnd Imogen, I bet you've got more in you than you let on.
So...when reading about your professor, I thought, that's why I teach 6 year olds. I can do slap stick. 6 year olds LOVE slap stick. They also can't get over the joke, "all my teeth are Loose." It's a winner.
ReplyDeleteYou go Kimmie. I would have loved to have a slap-stickinG teacher when I was 6. In fact, I think I would have lived one in college as well. The world needs more slap-sticking teachers.
ReplyDelete