How to Write Funny: Your Serious, Step-By-Step Blueprint For Creating Incredibly, Irresistibly, Successfully Hilarious Writing

by Scott Dikkers

  • The quality of airline food

  • “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  • “That’s what she said.”

  • A big fake laugh that devolves into an unimpressed groan.

  • Illustrating how white people and black people talk differently

  • “You should see the other guy” (when someone is roughed up)

  • Making the sound of a game show buzzer or winning bell when someone gets the wrong or right answer.

  • The taint

  • “I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”

  • The “surfer dude” character

  Such clichés ring like a discordant note in the ear of the sophisticated reader of humor. If you use a clichéd joke, topic or character, your reader will immediately and instinctively know that your humor writing is not very good, and they probably won’t stick with it long.

  Humor-Writing Tip #5: Avoid Clichés

  If you’ve heard a joke or funny phrase before, don’t repeat it. Also avoid topics that have been joked about endlessly, like how men hog the remote control, airline food is bad, or white people can’t jump. These are comedy clichés.

  One of the surest ways to tell an amateur humor writer from a professional humor writer is that the amateur will use a lot of clichés, and the professional won’t. Professionals come up with their own jokes, explore fresh ways of phrasing ideas. They’re always searching for a new approach or a new angle that’s never been written before.

  There’s no surprise with clichés because we’ve seen the joke before. Only fresh ideas, unique perspectives or original thoughts can surprise. Consequently, only fresh, unique and original writing can get laughs. Well, clichés might get laughs from those who’ve never heard them before, but you don’t want laughs from those people.

  That may seem like contradictory advice, given that the goal in humor writing is maximum accessibility, but getting laughs only from to the lowest common denominator actually limits your accessibility. First, unsophisticated audiences will laugh at a lot of things that sophisticated audiences won’t, which means the humor may be accessible to some, but it’s a turn-off for others. You create accessible humor by appealing to the widest possible audience. Second, there’s no reason to use clichés to appeal to unsophisticated audiences when so many other, legitimate tools can be used.

  Avoiding clichés is one of the most important “don’ts” when it comes to generating surprise in prose. More “dos” will be outlined here in great detail.

  CATEGORIES OF PROSE HUMOR

  Written humor comes in five distinct categories. Understanding the difference between these categories can help you get clear about your own writing, and where it naturally falls in the spectrum. Only one of these categories provides the maximum potential for generating surprise, and the laughs that follow. It also offers the largest possible audience.

  These categories exist in a range from the basic to the sophisticated. At the basic end of the range, the humor is simple, and has more narrow appeal. At the other end, the humor is more layered, and has more broad appeal—it also takes more skill to produce.

  Just like visible light and audible sound exist on a spectrum, beyond which humans can’t see or hear, humor also has a spectrum. And just like light and sound have a small range within their perceptible spectrums that produce an effect that’s most pleasing to the senses (for example, a sound of 50 Hz is audible, but not very pleasant—just a low rumbling sound without much definition—but a layered, harmonic sound of 440 Hz, with high-frequency overtones and rich undertones, can be a beautiful note of music), humor produced at the highest end of the spectrum with overtones and undertones that resonate across the entire perceptible spectrum of humor will produce the most hilarious humor.

  Written humor that’s too far outside the sophisticated end of the spectrum on the right, or too far beyond the basic end on the left, won’t make very many people laugh. It will either confound anyone but unimaginably intelligent aliens or futuristic humans on the right, or fail to impress anyone but chimps on the left. But when we produce humor somewhere within this spectrum, we have a fighting chance of making a lot of actual people laugh.

  On the bottom end of the spectrum is Kid Stuff. These are the literary equivalent of a funny face, a pratfall, or other very basic types of humor that appeal to the less-than-intellectual reader. There’s no higher calling here, no complex structures. This end of the spectrum is made up of things like basic discordance, incongruity, and other elements of surprise based on a very limited understanding of the world. When you call a tree a “dog,” for example, or when you pretend to be confused and call a child by the wrong name, or ascribe the wrong age to a child, most 3- to 5-year-olds will find this hilarious. Read a Sesame Street book for very young kids to find a good example of this kind of humor. Kid Stuff isn’t likely to tickle the funny bones of too many adult readers.

  On the upper end of the Kid Stuff category is simple pun-based jokes from joke books, the jokes on Wacky Taffy packages, as well as simple forms of societal-norm-defying Madcap or Shock-based humor like you see in Mad Magazine or the now-defunct Nick magazine, forms of humor we’ll dig into in more detail in later chapters.

  However, as unsophisticated as Kid Stuff may be, these simple things that make a young kid laugh contain the seeds from which more sophisticated humor is derived.

  Next on the spectrum is the Conversational category. This is prose that’s written with the author’s personality laid bare, or “on the nose,” with no attempt to disguise opinions or ideas through another voice or literary device. There is a character here; the inherent character of the writer, but it’s not a comedic construct like a character you might find in more advanced humor writing. It’s merely the reality-based character of the writer. This is the type of writing you might see in personal letters or notes, where writers attempt to play off key character traits for which they’re known, or simply their natural personalities. Dave Barry is probably the most famous purveyor of this kind of writing. David Sedaris is another, though Sedaris uses more sophisticated story structure, veering out of purely comedic structure and into the realm of dramatic writing.

  Very close to Conversational, but slightly more sophisticated, is Snark. It’s a ubiquitous kind of humor writing most commonly found on blogs, magazines that are trying to sound hip, Facebook posts, and a lot of other places, too. Entertainment and sports news often aspires to this style. Extremely popular now, Snark is essentially Conversational, but with the added layer of smart-alecky sarcasm, the wry attitude of someone who’s plugged into the most desirable trends. It’s the classic Archetype, the Know-It-All, but in a very transparent form. This veneer is a literary device that masks the writer, but not very believably. As we will see, concealing the writer and the writer’s true intent—and doing so believably—is one of the secrets to good humor writing.

  Snark is identifiable for its brazen use of clichés borrowed from other Snark writing. Clichés, almost more than the too-hip attitude, are what define this style of writing. Like other humor clichés, those of Snark are cyclical, but as of this writing, “Best. [Insert a thing]. Ever.” (with periods between each word) is enjoying widespread use. Faux-Conversational words and phrases like “Welp,” (as a version of “Well”), “I know, right?,” “Ya think?,” “Hells no,” and “Wow. Just wow” imply a conversation with the reader that’s not actually happening.

  LOL, LMFAO and IMHO are all the spawn of Snark. Intentionally misspeaking, using phrases like “the webs,” or “bad maths,” have become popular since George W. Bush’s famous utterance of “the Internets” during a debate with John Kerry.

  There are too many others to list, and new ones are always forming. Writers of Snark use clichés with impunity because they’re an integral part of the style.

  That said, Snark can be effective (and funny) when done well, and without clichés. One of the problems with the form nowadays is that it’s ov
erused, and therefore writers in this style have difficulty standing out from the crowd. Mike Nelson (of “Mystery Science Theater 3000” fame) has written some very funny essays and books in this style. John Hodgman and Sarah Vowell use the form skillfully, though a lot of their writing hits more sophisticated notes as well.

  The next category on the spectrum is Formulaic Humor. Here multiple layers of humor are employed, and the primary tools of comedy (the 11 Funny Filters, covered in Chapter 6) are used skillfully to elicit laughter. That’s the formula. Formulaic Humor is typically written by professional comedy writers.

  Formulaic Humor is often not in a first-person voice, but assumes other character voices and formats. The writer is no longer the focus, like in Conversational or Snark. Rest assured the writer is driving the bus, but entertaining diversions are placed between the reader and the writer in order to conceal the writer and achieve laughs through any number of comedic facades, things like made-up characters, a parody context and others—all of which will be covered in great detail later in this book.

  In recent decades, the National Lampoon has been a standout in Formulaic Humor, as have Garrison Keillor and the great but short-lived Spy Magazine. Army Man, though extremely hard to find, was a textbook example.

  Formulaic Humor is most often seen on TV and in movies. In these media, the facade of Character is built in, which instantly creates a face that the reader can relate to. It also puts that distance between the writer and the audience. Both of these tactics make for far more engaging writing.

  The high standard of Formulaic Humor sometimes causes it to pop into the next highest category on the spectrum, as is the case with all of the publications listed above.

  The highest category on the humor-writing spectrum is Satire. This is writing that employs tools from all the categories beneath it, most notably Formulaic Humor, and, like Formulaic Humor, is adept at getting laughs. But Satire has one extra, hidden ingredient that the other categories don’t have. This secret ingredient is the one thing that nudges humor writing out of a lower category and into the Satire category. And therefore the laughs it can generate are a lot more satisfying and memorable.

  Satire has something to say—something important—that’s hidden in the literal text. The writer of Satire uses expertly crafted humor, just like the writers of Formulaic Humor and other categories, calculated to make readers laugh uproariously. But Satire does so as a means to an end. In the other categories, humor itself is the end goal. Yes, readers are laughing at Satire, but they’re also getting this secret message. This message makes the material funnier, the laughs more satisfying. Some unsophisticated readers may not even notice the message, or may not care. It doesn’t matter. They’re still laughing. That’s what makes Satire the most accessible category of humor writing.

  This secret message is called Subtext.

  Writing in any category can occasionally achieve a level of Satire (like Dr. Seuss in Kid Stuff or David Sedaris in Conversational). Those who consistently achieve the satirical category in periodicals are The Onion, and occasional writers for The New Yorker’s “Shouts and Murmurs” column, like Ian Frazier, Andy Borowitz and Ben Greenman. In books, Satire’s masters are Kurt Vonnegut, Leonard Wibberley, Mark Twain, Jonathan Swift, and other luminaries of Satire dating back to ancient Greece and Rome. One stand-out genius who only published one novel (posthumously) is John Kennedy Toole, whose Confederacy of Dunces is a masterpiece of English Satire. However, these books all employ dramatic structure. Purely comedically structured satirical books include National Lampoon’s High School Yearbook, Our Dumb Century and “The Daily Show’s” America: The Book.

  Comedic Structure vs. Dramatic Structure

  Comedic structure entails establishing and then escalating a single joke. This simple structure is found in online comedy articles, jokes, one-liners, and TV/web video or movie sketches lasting no more than 5–10 minutes. Comedic structure can produce some extremely funny short entertainment. But if a humor writer wants to write something longer, like a short story, novella, novel or screenplay, comedic structure can no longer be used.

  It’s impossible to tell a compelling, longer-form story in which the primary structure is comedic. Comedic structure falls apart after only a couple of pages or 5–10 minutes. Audiences get bored with it. Only dramatic story structure can sustain audience interest beyond that time frame. Therefore, in a longer work, telling a story becomes the primary goal. Getting laughs becomes secondary.

  This is why even in goofy Adam Sandler movies there has to be a semi-realistic love-interest storyline, and a moment of genuine pathos for the main character at the end of Act II. (The only time you see purely comedic structure in a feature film is in sketch movies.)

  Learning how to structure comedic stories using dramatic story structure is outside the scope of this book. If you want to write funny stories using story structure instead of purely comedic structure, I recommend first achieving competence with the comedy-writing tools outlined in this book. You’ll then find it easier to infuse your longer-form stories with humor.

  In other media, the writers of the “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report” operate in the Satire category. “The Simpsons,” “Seinfeld,” and classic TV shows like “All In The Family” are satirical as well, but they also employ tools of dramatic structure. “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” is the supreme example of modern, purely comedically structured satirical TV writing.

  Humor-Writing Tip #6: Proofread

  Get your spelling, grammar and syntax right. It’s not that hard. Make a solid effort to ensure no typos slip through. For a really important piece of work like a submission for a job, get some help proofreading. Your work might be just as funny as the competition’s, but if you have a few misspellings and bad punctuation and they don’t, guess who will get the job.

  Satirical humor has the potential to appeal to all levels of readers. It freely uses Kid Stuff to appeal to the least sophisticated reader, but employs intelligent Subtext to appeal to the most sophisticated reader. This broad appeal gives it the best chance of any category to connect with the largest possible audience.

  In the next chapter, we’ll delve into how to create great Subtext.

  CHAPTER 4 ACTION STEPS

  1. In your next Morning Pages exercise, try ruminating on these questions: What kind of laughs do you want your writing to elicit? What category has your writing habitually been in? Do you tend to use clichés?

  2. Write 10 one-sentence jokes using no clichés.

  5: SUBTEXT: THE MAGIC INGREDIENT

  Given that surprise is the one ingredient that all humor requires, let’s look at how we can generate it in prose.

  Surprise can come in many forms. We’ve learned ways to engineer surprise by borrowing strengths from other media. You can add a surprising image to your writing to draw readers into it. You can pair your writing with a video in order to introduce the critical tool of timing. You can write through the voice of a character, conjuring the human connection that makes media like stage, TV and movies so engaging.

  These tactics can be effective for initially drawing a reader into your writing. Using a character voice, especially, can command a reader’s attention. However, once they get the joke, or understand what’s supposed to be funny about it, they may tire of the writing and abandon it if there’s nothing deeper going on.

  Using only comedic structure, you can keep the surprises coming and create the feeling that the writing is getting funnier and funnier through the use of Subtext.

  In any sophisticated writing, there’s more there than just the literal words on the page. There’s something else that those words aren’t saying, but rest assured it’s being communicated clearly to any reasonably intelligent reader. What’s being communicated is the Subtext.

  When you read a joke, or a funny line in a larger story, you add two and two in your mind, and you expose the Subtext that the writer has hidden in the joke. It’s this exposure that su
rprises you, and causes you to laugh.

  In a joke, the Subtext is what you “get.” If you didn’t get a joke, it means you couldn’t decipher the Subtext. If you got the joke, and laughed, you were able to subconsciously uncover the joke’s Subtext exactly as the writer intended.

  All good jokes have Subtext, as do all good comedy articles, short stories and novels. What makes the Subtext of Satire special is its quality.

  Subtext in humor writing is usually a value judgment or opinion held by the writer. In the good Satirical writing, that Subtext is universal, something that just about anyone can relate to. In the very best writing, it points out something wrong with the world, a fatal flaw or weakness in humanity or the universe. It can even be a sad fact, something that cannot be changed, yet the writer is compelled to point it out, to publicly yearn for things to be different.

  The funniest humor often has the most interesting, original and astute Subtext. A joke can still be funny with mediocre Subtext, but rich, interesting Subtext will almost always make it better.

  Humor-Writing Tip #7: Have Something to Say

  To be a writer, the first thing you need is something to say. Without that, why are you writing? By regularly sifting through your notebook and Morning Pages, you’ll eventually find something worthy of being communicated to others that you can get passionate about.