Yeah, Write

What's So Funny? These 11 Writing Tips Are

Looking to add a bit more humor to your writing, journaling, or personal history? Here are some tips I shared in a podcast episode (that's no longer available) with my friend Elizabeth Dillow, who shared her funny business here.

I frequently write a bit of humor into my journaling and personal stories, but not exactly in a laugh-out-loud funny way. More in a mildly amusing manner that may cause the occasional inward chuckle. I'm not going for high comedy or punchlines, just a lighthearted, humorous take on daily life.

For me, there are two different approaches I use to lighten up my personal stories: writing techniques and writing devices. But first, some expert advice.

The Hard "K" Sound

Playwright Neil Simon, author of The Odd Couple, Barefoot in the Park, and Biloxi Blues, among others, has been dubbed "Broadway Master of Comedy." In his play The Sunshine Boys, it is pointed out that the hard "k" sound is the funniest sound in the alphabet. 

"Fifty-seven years in this business, you learn a few things. You know what words
are funny and which words are not funny. Alka-Seltzer is funny. You say 'Alka-Seltzer', you get a laugh...
Words with 'k' in them are funny. Casey Stengel, that's a funny name. Robert Taylor is not funny.
Cupcake is funny. Tomato is not funny. Cookie is funny. Cucumber is funny.
Car keys. Cleveland... Cleveland is funny. Maryland is not funny.
Then, there's chicken. Chicken is funny. Pickle is funny."

Do you agree? Start paying attention, and you'll notice that this is true! Even the word "comedy" itself fits the theory. (And this could explain the popularity of a certain word that begins with "f.") Now on to my eleven writing tips. Why eleven? Well, it's funnier than both 10 or 12, because it's unexpected, and it also might remind you of the best scene in Spinal Tap.

Writing Techniques

As you may have noticed, even the funniest story that ever happened to you can be difficult to express in a humorous way once you start writing. You have to be deliberate about how you write, if you want the humor to come across. Below are a few techniques to try, which you'll find illustrated in one of the more amusing posts (in my opinion) I've written recently, "Some Days You Just Can't Win."

1. Exaggeration. 
   From the blog post: "As I try to order, Keira wails at supersonic levels when her window is UP. But every time I roll it DOWN, she leans forward and shouts her own preferences at the intercom."
   
   
2. Understatement.
   If your scrapbook layout includes a photo of a baby grimacing after eating a pickle, an understated caption like "You could say she's not a huge fan of pickles" is much funnier than the more direct "She sure hates pickles!"
   
   
3. Unexpected Combinations.
   When writing a list, it adds humor when the last item in your list doesn't quite fit in with the rest. For example, here's a recent Facebook update I posted: 
   Learn how to melt away a double chin, which house plants cure anxiety...and my tips for summer scrapbooking. It's all in this week's Woman's World magazine.
   
   
4. Fake Gravitas.
   The contrast of writing in a dead serious tone about something that's actually hilarious certainly adds humor to a story.
   
   
5. Vocabulary.
   When you're going for a humorous effect, always go for the more unusual, exaggerated or bizarre word. Back to that blog post, notice that Keira tried to "fling my phone over the banister" instead of trying to "throw" it. I "devoured" three fun-sized candy bars instead of "ate" them. The tomato soup "oozes" onto the floormat instead of "spills." There's no doubt that "oozes" is the funnier word. 
   
   
6. Brevity and Variation of Sentence Length.
   Also from the blog post, Keira "puts a dishtowel over her face to play 'married' and promptly walks into a wall. Hard. Needs mega soothing." Notice how this combination of longer and shorter sentences is both punchier and funnier than if I had said, "And then Keira walked into a wall really hard, and I had to soothe her."
    

Writing Devices

Here, I'm talking about the initial set up of the story. If you start out from a humorous angle, you don't have to try quite as hard to be funny with your phrasing. Here are a five ideas:

1. Charts. I have used charts for humorous effect over and over again. You can be funny in the categories you choose, and then simply add a checkmark in the column that applies. The reason this works is the unexpected factor. When you see a chart, you expect something serious, scientific, data-driven. And then you start reading. 

 

2. A Memo. The contrast between the formal memo and the lighthearted words you can include in your message can add humor to a page, especially if you use a product from knockknockstuff.com

3. Pet Peeves. A page listing your pet peeves is an easy way to inject humor into your scrapbooks. I created a page years ago, without even using a photo, and most of the peeves still stand. Most especially: "Close talkers, loud talkers, and people who poke or nudge you for emphasis while conversing with you.

4. Writing Like a Reporter. Tell a lighthearted story in news reporter style, as I did on an old 2005 layout about an impromptu recorder concert my 4th-grade stepson put on for his cousins:
"Talented 4th grader Jeremy Lucas favored a rapt audience with an impromptu recorder concert in his living room. Lucas's mad record skills brought the house down. 'The house' consisted of his dad Travis (also the event's photographer), his stepmom Angie, and his favorite cousins Zach and Riley. After an encore and a standing ovation, all participants stayed for a sleepover."

5. Top 5 Funny Facts. This can be a quick and easy page that lists amusing little details about your personality, either directly in your journal, on a social media post, or on a scrapbook page. Here's a page that appeared years ago in the now-defunct Simple Scrapbooks magazine, where I was the managing editor.

Yes, I do spontaneously, accidentally adopt people's accents right in the middle of conversations. I have to really concentrate to avoid it. Just imagine how difficult it was for me to recently visit Alabama! In fact, after we landed, I lapsed into a drawl with the very first Southerner I spoke to: the Delta airlines gate agent. (Hopefully she just thought I was a local. Yeah, right.)

 

Poop & Participles

File this one under "Blog posts my daughter may hate me for one day in the future."

And also, "But will I care, as long as she knows her participles?"

So, not too long ago, my good friend Elizabeth Dillow texted me for a bit of grammar advice while she was helping her daughter with her homework.

This is not terribly uncommon. I'm certain that those of you who are nurses get random photos of rashes from your relatives, accompanied by the question, "Does this look normal?" (I know this because I have both a sister-in-law and a brother who are nurses, and I do this to them all the time.)

Likewise, those of us with English degrees sometimes get random texts asking about prepositions and participial phrases.

Here is one recent text conversation in its entirety. I present it here just in case you need to understand and properly use a participial phrase at some point in your future.

Elizabeth's comments are gray. My replies are in blue. 

Elizabeth is correct. See how important proper capitalization can be?

Stay with me. It will get clearer in a minute.

 

If you thought that was fun, just wait until we talk about dangling participles. That's where things get crazy.

And yes, I may have oversimplified, especially the part about gerunds. I was a bit distracted and replying by text, after all. If you want to dive deep into the subject, here are a few overly analytical examples for you. 

Grammar Girl

English Language & Usage

Wikipedia

Next up: gerunds. Just kidding. I haven't been texted about gerunds in years. Or ever.

Some Days You Just Can't Win

Yes, I know that life is not just about winning. But it shouldn't be all about losing either. Behold today:

"Keira, are you ready to go to preschool?" 
"No mommy, I'm too sick. And I miss you. "

She does indeed have a cold, as do I.  And she definitely knows how to butter her mama up.

"Okay, no preschool. But that means you need to watch a movie quietly during mommy's morning conference call, okay sweetie? Then we'll play."

Instead, during the conference call, in true toddler style, she: 

• puts a dishtowel over her face to play "married" and promptly walks into a wall. Hard. Needs mega soothing. 
• tries to fling my iPhone over the banister
• dismantles everything in the family room, hurricane style 
• dumps a very full garbage can into the middle of the hurricane
• poops her pants and smears it everywhere while squirming out of my "too cold" hands
• selects an Almond Joy from her Halloween bucket, then chews it up and spits it on the carpet
• voluntarily gets a paper towel to "clean it up," which means vigorously grinding the chocolate mess further into the carpet (she does get points for trying to clean up after herself without being asked)
• desperately needs a ham sandwich right now, even though it's been 45 minutes since breakfast 
• has absolutely no interest in the movie while I'm on the call
• has absolutely no interest in me once I'm off the call; wants to watch the movie instead

So, right after hanging up and cleaning up, I devour three fun-size candy bars out of Keira's Halloween bucket, even though I've been off sugar since June. My excuse: must make sure there are NO more Almond Joys left to tempt Keira next time. 

Then it's lunchtime, at least for me, who did not eat a ham sandwich at 9:30 a.m.

We both need to get out of the house, even though we're both still in our pajamas. So I make a beeline to the local Kneaders (a divine bakery with a drive-thru) to order lunch, intent on consuming the largest cinnamon roll in sight. Because if I'm eating sugar today, I might as well EAT SUGAR.

As I try to order, Keira wails at supersonic levels when her window is UP. But every time I roll it DOWN, she leans forward and shouts her own preferences at the intercom. I say, "One turkey sandwich" at the same time as she says "I need a Spriiiite!" in a perfect imitation of my drive-thru ordering voice. I roll her window up so the clerk can hear me, but then her screaming drowns me out. (I'm indulging her more, see, because she's sick.) I try to laugh about my predicament to the teenager on duty, but she doesn't care. 

Eventually, I get the order across. I opt for a bowl of warm, comforting, tomato-basil soup instead of that cinnamon roll. I mentally pat myself on the back as I pull away from the restaurant. Way to go, Angie!

About a half a mile later, an individual in a compact car somehow fails to notice the half-ton truck (me) driving at the speed limit (45 mph) in the proper lane. The car pulls out in front of me, apparently without having glanced at the road at all, and I have to slam on my brakes so hard that my seat belts lock up. And my treasured tomato soup goes flying.

It smells heavenly as it oozes onto the floormat.

As does the warm buttery roll that Keira is shredding in the backseat.

I mentally curse, then I square my shoulders and drive on, looking forward to cleaning up the 4th disgusting mess of the day.

No cinnamon roll. No tomato soup. Only a tiny shred of sanity left, and 5 hours to go before daddy is home. 

How was your day?

 

#yesitcouldbeworse #firstworldproblems #gratefulformylife #nocheesewithmywhine #tongueincheek #tinyviolins

Creepy, Creepier, Cute, Adorable

On my way home from having lunch with my grandparents last week (Have you ever tried the fire-roasted artichoke from The Cheesecake Factory? You really should.), I stopped at the Sandy Antique Mall for a quick browse.

I know I'm not the only person who finds old dolls creepy and would never EVER want to go to sleep with one in my bedroom, eyes open, watching me sleep, all night long. But on this visit, I spotted some winners.

Creepy

Something about this doll reminds me of my grandma Hill, but in a creepy way. My grandma was not at all creepy, so I can't pinpoint what it is that reminds me of her. Maybe she had a doll like this somewhere in her house (the attic of which was most definitely very creepy).

Creepier
AAAAHH! I'm sure I'm missing some historical significance here, but why has this doll just ripped the head off of a toy soldier...and is now looking so smug about it? (And what about that creepy angel that's photo bombing my creepy doll picture?)

Cute
I wisely left the other two dolls on the shelf, but this one I took home with me for the bargain price of $10. She would probably be creepy, too, if not for the fact that she's Little Orphan Annie, and she's wearing real fabric socks. I bought her for Keira, who has lately been obsessed with the Annie from my childhood (with Carol Burnett as Mrs. Hannigan). Never mind that Keira recently pointed at a lady at Costco and yelled at the top of her lungs: "Mrs. Hannigan! Mrs. Hannigan!" I can only hope that the woman was without a television for most of the 1980s and that the reference eluded her.

Adorable

See, I told you she loves the movie. Although she's just now starting to venture into Disney Princess world, having fallen in love with Rapunzel, and then Merida (which Keira pronounces in a Scottish accent, like "Medidah," and she WILL correct you if you pronounce it with a regular "r" sound), and now Mulan. My little girl is growing up. You should hear her sing, "And at last I see the life...", her take on a song from Tangled. 

 

Why Grocery Shopping Sucks

1. You load up your cart with boxes, bags, and sundries, while hideous music plays overhead.
2. You unload everything at the checkout counter and always spend $50 more than you meant to.
3. Then if, heaven forbid, you use the self-checkout, you then have to load everything BACK into your cart yourself.
3. You then unload your cart (again) into the trunk of your car.
4. You then unload your trunk and carry everything into your kitchen.
5. And finally, you unload the individual bags into your cupboards (or pantry, for you lucky devils), only to repeat the process 7 days later.

Could anything be more inefficient?

I dream of the days when we can beam everything Star-Trek style directly into the refrigerator.

I do have a vegetable garden, which helps, but it's only useful 3 months of the year.

What are your thoughts on grocery shopping?

p.s. Is anyone clear on why the term "home farming" has caught on? What was wrong with "gardening"? Is it because gardening is something old people with funny hats do, while home farming is something young hipsters with $70 haircuts do? I was just wondering.

Thoughts About Thank You Notes

Confession: I kind of suck at thank-you notes.

I want to be better at it. I have every intention of sending them immediately after the nice thing has been done, but it usually takes me weeks (and, gasp, sometimes months) to actually follow-through. I LIKE writing them. I LIKE making them. I LIKE thinking of the kind words to write in the card. I LIKE it when people know that they've made a difference in my life. And yet the task rarely makes it to the top of my to-do list.

When Keira Jane arrived, with just a few weeks notice, there was a tremendous outpouring of gifts and love and support. I have SO many people to thank, and I am sincerely grateful for every onesie, every pair of hand-knitted baby booties, every mix CD of tried-and-true baby lullabies, every blanket, bib, and bonnet. And my heart is still deeply touched by a handful of blog readers whom I don't know in person who sent wonderful gifts (a Dr. Seuss bath set, Dr. Brown's colic-reducing baby bottle, elephant onesies, and more).

Still, more than half of my thank-you cards remain unwritten or unmailed. Is that a sign of ingratitude?

I hope not. It's more a sign of the general insanity of my daily schedule--and the fact that I don't quite have a grasp of it all yet. I am working, slowly, to bring more order to the chaos of my daily existence as a new mom, small business owner, Primary President (the lady in charge of the instruction of 50+ children at church each week), wife/housekeeper, and chauffer to a teenager whose school and job are both more than 20 minutes from home. But that's no excuse. You're busy, too, and you manage to send your thank-you notes within the standard grace period. Just please stop rubbing it in.

I'm thinking this product could really come in handy for people like me:

One reason this is on my mind is this: in my life, I have encountered a few proud members of the thank-you-note militia. I have one acquaintance who shall remain nameless (and who never ever reads this blog, or any blog for that matter, so I'm safe here) who keeps a detailed mental list of all the nice things she has done for and sent to other people, with a little mental check box next to each that says "thank you note received?"

I've heard from her several times, "Can you believe it's been X of weeks/months, and still no thank-you note?" I actually can believe it, I think to myself before quickly scanning the recent past for occasions that might require such a note to her from me.

But for me, all this does is make me dread her every kind deed, since the weight of the thank-you-note expectation is very off-putting, and I'm constantly debating whether a certain kindess will make her "required thank-you note" checklist or not. (Tip: when in doubt, send the note.) I should probably schedule a thank-you note to her once a year in my planner, just to cover my bases.

The thing is, I like to send thank-you notes because I'm genuinely thankful, not because I am afraid of incurring the wrath of the giver. And sadly, this particular giver has been known to swear off future kind deeds to individuals from whom she has not received adequate gratitude. And personally, I think this denies her the genuine pleasure of being kind to another human being without expecting something in return.

In an attempt to make a virtue out of my vice, I never ever notice if a thank-you note is owed to me and never arrives. If I perform a random act of kindness (or a scheduled one, either way), it's because I love and care for the person in question, no strings attached. If a thank-you note arrives, it's a wonderful surprise and it absolutely brightens my day. If it doesn't arrive, I never even notice.

All of this rambling aside, please rest assured that if you created, mailed, dropped off, or otherwise delivered a gift to me and my baby girl, the thank-you note will arrive eventually. And I sincerely hope that's before she turns 1, but I'm not making any promises.

In the meantime, may I say to all of you, with utmost sincerity:


So what do you think? Are you a member of the thank-you note militia? Or are you a little more like me? I'd love to hear your thoughts about thank yous. (And please don't say, "Just imagine how many thank-you notes you could have written if you'd have just done that instead of writing this blog post!" because that thought occurred to me moments ago. Too late.)

One Reason Not to Space Your Children 16 Years Apart

You might change your baby's diaper one morning to find that she has been mysteriously tattoed overnight.

And of course you'll have a mini heart attack, because at first it looks like an enormous bruise. And then you'll (rightly) realize that your husband probably had something to do with it, too. And then you'll be grateful that, if your teen is going to temporarily tattoo your baby with a rock-band icon,  he at least has decent taste in music.

(Speaking of baby tattoos, did you hear about the misguided young man who permanently tattooed a baby he was watching for the day? Even worse, it wasn't even his own baby! Terrible.)

Googly Eyes on Toast

One lazy summer morning, my teenage stepson, Jeremy, excitedly summoned me into the kitchen to introduce me to "the perfect slice of toast."

No piece of toast, now or ever, could compete with this slice for its iconic and almost cartoon-like shape, its exemplary toastedness, its archetypal color and shading. If someone were to make a cartoon toast creature, this slice would be an ideal model to base it upon. You could easily imagine it sprouting arms and legs, grabbing a microphone, and beginning to croon a tune about breakfast nutrition for morning television.

"All it needs is a pair of googly eyes," Jeremy said.

"You got it," I said, heading downstairs.

"Wait..." He called after me, "You actually have GOOGLY EYES on hand?"

"For just such an emergency as this," I said, returning with a baggie of googly eyes in varying sizes.

"You're kidding," he said.

"What kind of a crafter would I be if I didn't have access to googly eyes when I needed them?"

And of course I pulled out the camera for an impromptu photo shoot.

"I think he looks kinda suspicious," Jeremy said.

"Nah, he's just shy," I replied.

But we both agreed that he is definitely male. Then Jeremy devoured him. (Sans the eyes.)

Incidentally, for the first time ever, I connected the term "googly eyes" to the popular search engine "Google." It makes sense! Both "Google" and "googly eyes" have to do with eyes—perhaps the act of looking or searching. They're both FUN. They share five of their six letters.

Of course, Google claims that the word is based upon "Googol," a mathematical term that means a 1 followed by 100 zeros. But I have to believe that someone at Google made the "googly eyes" connection early on, but it didn't sound quite sophisticated enough, so it was never included in the official story.

I just LOVE this definition of "googly eyes," found on Wikipedia:

"Googly eyes or wiggly eyes are large, bulging or rolling craft findings used to imitate eyes. The eyes traditionally are composed of a clear, hard-plastic shell, with a smaller, black plastic disk trapped within. The inner black disk is allowed to move freely within the larger clear plastic shell, which makes the eyes appear to move. Googly eyes are mainly involved in arts and crafts and are sometimes glued to inanimate objects for the purposes of portraying personification and humour."

Hilarious, right? Such a sober, academic, and accurate tone used to describe something as silly and inane as googly eyes.

Endangered Phrases

There are all kinds of phrases still in use today that don't make much literal sense anymore.

"On tenterhooks" comes to mind, which originally referred to a frame used for stretching cloth, but now simply means "left in uncertainty." As far as I know (as if I would know), tenter hooks haven't been in use since the 1700s.

There's also "blow your stack," which originally meant the clearing of a smokestack (or the stack on a steamship) by a sudden burst of air, but now most often means to lose one's temper. Modern individuals, who have very little experience with smokestacks or steamships, may never understand this reference if it weren't for Looney Toons. (You know how characters' heads morph into red smokestacks when they get angry?)

It's interesting to think that many of the phrases we grew up using, and which made obvious and intuitive sense to us, will no longer make sense to future generations. Behold:

Rewinding a movie.
On old VHS tapes, something was clearly winding. We still say "rewind" when referring to DVDs or pay-per-view shows, even though no "winding" is involved. Just wait for that first child to ask you, "Mom, why is it called 'rewinding'?"

Roll up the window.
In most modern cars, there's no lever to turn. Only a button to push. But what alternative phrases could be used? "Raise the window, please, it's cold out there." Nah. Interestingly, you'll notice that characters in movies still pantomime a "rolling up" motion, even when a car would clearly have a button instead. (More about that here.)

Turn the dial.
"Don't turn that dial! I like this song..." On car radios today, it's usually a button rather than a knob or dial. Radio stations still say, "Don't touch that dial" just before going to commercial break.

Hang up the phone.
In the old days (and I remember them), you had to hang the phone back on its cradle in order to end the conversation. These days, once again, we push a button. And when you want to end a phone call indignantly—as I did recently while trying to get some answers from the neanderthals at the Massachusetts Department of Revenue—it's far less satisfying to select "end call" than to slam the phone onto its receiver.

Above the fold.
I remember way back before Al Gore invented the Internet; do you? Back then, we had to get our news from newspapers. And the most important stories were always placed "above the fold" on the front page. This term is also used for websites, believe it or not, indicating that an ad or story appears on the first view, before the user has to scroll down.

Boob tube.
Actually, I think this one went out long before my time. But at least I know what it means. "Boob" used to be another word for "idiot" or "moron," and televisions were once operated by vacuum tubes instead of electronics. The "boob tube" was a nickname emphasizing the idea that television turned people into mindless drones (which it now does even better than ever before). I'm afraid the younger generation might assume a "boob tube" was just another term for "halter top."

As technology keeps advancing, what other terms can you think of that will soon make no sense to the rising generation? Discuss.

Chicken-fried Grammar

Although I've personally been quite clear about the animal origin of chicken-fried steak since at least age 23, there are plenty of other facts that have escaped my notice until more recently.

But after Thursday's post, it occurs to me that chicken-fried steak (a badly named dish indeed) is still causing some confusion. And it has everything to do with the importance of the hyphen. Even restaurants that keep impeccable kitchens can be quite sloppy when it comes to hyphenating the compound adjectives on their menus. So, I figured a quick grammar lesson was in order.

A compound adjective is comprised of two adjectives working together to describe a noun. The fact that chicken-fried steak is steak rather than chicken is revealed in the construction of the phrase. Steak comes last, and it's being described by "chicken-fried." By the same logic, you know that a chicken-salad sandwich is a sandwich. If you read "chicken salad sandwich," you might assume it was a list of three different things and that someone forgot to include the commas. (Menus are known to do that as well.)

Here are a few parallel examples to "chicken-fried steak" that will help cement this fact:

Chicken-fried steak
Steak that has been fried like chicken. The steak is breaded and fried the same way fried chicken is breaded and fried, and its typically served with mashed potatoes and gravy. Bring on the heart disease! (And don't even get me started on "chicken-fried chicken." There's one too many "chickens" in that phrase.)

Chocolate-covered strawberries
Strawberries that have been covered in chocolate.

Citrus-glazed salmon
Salmon that has been glazed with citrus.

Man-eating shark
A shark that eats humans.

In the above examples, if there were no hyphen to designate the compound adjective, the phrases could be read as poorly constructed sentences:

Man eating shark. Man eating eel. Man getting indigestion.

Chicken fried steak. And then steak got its revenge with a fire poker.

Chocolate covered strawberry. And rock covered paper. But strawberry tasted better.

Does that help?

:-)