MotherReader

Me: Ask me what makes me so funny!

You: Okay, what make you so f—

Me: Timing!

Today’s tip is about writing humor. I’m not even sure that I should be giving suggestions here, given that my process tends to involve an ongoing internal monologue about what I think I want to write that occurs throughout the mundane events of the day. I’ll be running the Swiffer WetJet over the kitchen floor, or retrieving a Mickey Mouse magnet from under the refrigerator with a spatula, or plucking the stray hairs on my chin, and the ideas just come.

But within that internal monologue, I revise until it’s funny. Okay, maybe just funnier than it was, but sometimes I crack myself up. There are tricks to make things just a touch more humorous, and I share them with you now. Lord help me.

1. Specific things and names are funnier than the generic. So “running the Swiffer WetJet” is more amusing than “sweeping the floor.”
   


2. Some imagery will just hit the right chord. It’s funnier to think of someone lying on the floor fishing around under the fridge then washing the dishes.
   


3. Revealing personal things is funny. So if I tell you about plucking stray hairs on my chin, you have an “Omigod, I can’t believe she said that!” reaction, and it’s funny.
   


4. Truly, some words are funnier than others. Spatula is better than broom. Swiffer WetJet is like a gift from the comedy gods.
   


5. Showing an awkward personal experience that others share is amusing, like digging under the refrigerator or plucking chin hairs.
   


6. Generally, the rhythm of funny is in threes. Two normal phrases, and the last punch line. But not always.
   


7. References to current events or trends is funny, but it has to be current. You don’t want to look oh-so-two-minutes-ago. Retro can also work, but anything before the late seventies isn’t retro anymore, it’s just old-people funny.
   


8. Tone can really change how funny something is. I’d pledge my lifelong allegiance to the person who comes up with an ironic font — and no, the little winking emoticon isn’t enough.
   


9. Everyone loves a good inside joke. Well, everyone on the inside does anyway.
   


10. Setting up for the unexpected is funny.
    

Here’s an example. My husband had a project to write and film fake public service announcements for “problem behaviors” at his workplace. They were going for a satire of those “The More You Know” ads on NBC. One of the ads was about jaywalking from the office to the Starbucks across the street. When I thought about this, I came up with the idea of a squirrel running across the street and getting hit by a car on the way back, and using that as a word of warning to the employees. Here’s what I wrote:

Squirrels are amazing creatures, built for speed and agility. Once I saw a squirrel running across M street, darting in and out of traffic. It got to the Starbucks, and came back just as quickly. That is, until it was flattened by a Hyundai. You know, people aren’t as fast as squirrels. Just something to think about.

Now look at it with the rules applied.

Squirrels⁽⁴⁾ are amazing creatures, built for speed and agility. Once I saw a squirrel running across M street,⁽⁹⁾ darting in and out of traffic.⁽²⁾ It got to the Starbucks,⁽⁷⁾ and came back just as quickly. That is, until it was flattened⁽⁴⁾ by a Hyundai.⁽¹⁾ You know, people aren’t as fast as squirrels.⁽¹⁰⁾ Just something to think about.⁽⁸⁾

You’ll see that it wouldn’t have been as funny if it had been a cat — far too personal, and not a funny word. Using flattened evokes old cartoon images, and is funnier than run over by. Of course, Hyundai is better both as a specific — instead of car — and as a funny word. The whole fake ad was an inside joke and was said in a casual tone.

So, now I’ve gone for broke on my trade secrets. And all in honor of the November Carnival of Children’s Literature, where the theme is tips, tricks, and advice. Yes, for this month I want a tip as a reader, writer, illustrator, reviewer, publisher, or editor of children’s literature. I want a lesson learned from a teacher, librarian, author, or parent with regards to kids’ lit. It doesn’t have to be a post that you did in November or October, though you may consider tweaking and re-posting an older entry to use; you can pick a post from any point this year. If you have something from last year, polish that baby up and repost it. I’ve got a good part of the Carnival ready now, so if you want to send something, get it to me by Tuesday evening. Send your links through my email (see the Email MotherReader! button). I have some great submissions so far, but I want more. Because I give and give and give to this relationship, and I need to take. I need to take something for myself. Or for, you know, the Carnival.

In the interest of promoting the upcoming Carnival theme, I’m going to share tips over the next few days to get you in the mood. I’m also going to ask if some other blogs could mention it out there, especially the extension for submissions — Tuesday, November 27th, by 9:00 a.m. EST.

Today’s suggestions come from my role as a librarian and story time lady. They may help children’s librarians, sure, but the tips may also be useful for authors giving a reading or parents going in to read to a class. So here goes.

One of my daughter’s preschool teachers used to call the kids “my friends.” I liked that so much that I always use it now in story times. For instance, “You can sit closer. I like my friends to be able to see the books.” It feels much warmer than “you kids.” I also introduce myself as Miss Pam — I don’t know if that is a preschool thing, library thing, or southern thing, but I love it.

After trying several techniques for getting kids quiet to listen to the books — and I should note here that often my story times have from babies to five-year-olds — I’ve settled on singing more of my directions. Now, I don’t know if it relies on my sweet singing voice, but boy do they focus. I usually say, “Oh, we almost forgot to get ready to listen to the books.” Then I sing, sort of recitative-style, “Let’s get on our watching eyes, so we can see the pictures [motion ‘adjusting’ eyes]. Let’s get on our listening ears, so we can hear the story [motion ‘adjusting’ ears]. And let’s get on our quiet mouths, so everyone else can hear the story too [motion finger on mouth].” Then I start reading before I lose them. If they get too busy later, I’ll have them wiggle it out while sitting, and then go through the song again.

Know this: You cannot ask a question of preschoolers that involves simply raising their hands. They will raise their hands, but at least three of them will have to say something — have to. Just be prepared. For kindergarten through second grade, they can do the raising-hand thing, but they will leave them up forever in the hopes that maybe you will call on them to share their specific, partially on-topic story. Here’s what I say, “Raise your hand if you have a library card. Good. Now hands down.” If you are taking questions from this crowd, you don’t want to open up to comments. Because once one kid tells you about the snake he once saw, everyone is going to have to tell you their snake story. If I’m taking questions, I say, “Does anyone have any questions about the summer reading program? And remember, a question is something that needs an answer.” Then if I get a comment, I’ll say, “Well, that’s nice, but does anyone have a question that needs an answer?” It seems to send the message that I’m not looking for more comments, which keeps the room from exploding with personal stories.

As a reminder, I’ll be hosting the November Carnival of Children’s Literature. For this month I want a tip as a reader, writer, illustrator, reviewer, publisher, or editor of children’s literature. I want a lesson learned from a teacher, librarian, author, or parent with regards to kids’ lit. It doesn’t have to be a post that you did in November or October, though you may consider tweaking and re-posting an older entry to use; you can pick a post from any point this year. If you have something from last year, polish that baby up and repost it. The deadline for submission was Saturday, November 24th, but in all honesty, I’m not going to be pulling this puppy together until Tuesday morning, so you have until then, and I’ll post the Carnival on Wednesday, November 28th. Well, Wednesday-ish. Send your links through my email (see the Email MotherReader! button) or the Carnival site. I’d love to see some editors and publishers give us some ideas for getting a foot in the door. Some librarians share a special program that rocks. Some reviewers tell how to handle the mountain of books. Some authors address school visits or writer’s block. I know that we all have so much knowledge to share with each other, and I wanted to present one great big opportunity to do so.

In the interest of promoting the upcoming Carnival theme, I’m going to share tips over the next few days to get you in the mood. I’m also going to ask if some other blogs could mention it out there, especially the extension for submissions — Tuesday, November 27th by 9:00 a.m. EST.

Oh, and in case you missed the original call, I’ll be hosting the November Carnival of Children’s Literature. Carnivals are simply collections of posts in a specific topic area (in this case Children’s Literature), pulled together by a host for easier reading. Since they can have a theme, I’ve decided to do something a little different, maybe even a bit of a stretch. For this month I want a tip as a reader, writer, illustrator, reviewer, publisher, or editor of children’s literature. I want a lesson learned from a teacher, librarian, author, or parent with regards to kids’ lit. It doesn’t have to be a post that you did in November or October, though you may consider tweaking and re-posting an older entry to use; you can pick a post from any point this year. If you have something from last year, polish that baby up and repost it. The deadline for submission was Saturday, November 24th, but in all honesty, I’m not going to be pulling this puppy together until Tuesday morning, so you have until then, and I’ll post the Carnival on Wednesday, November 28th. Well, Wednesday-ish. Send your links through my email (see the Email MotherReader! button) or the Carnival site — and please indicate, if possible, whether the tip/trick/hint is more for reader, writer, illustrator, reviewer, publisher, editor, teacher, librarian, or parent. (Yes, I know that there is plenty of overlap, but it would save time for me in organizing the posts if the suggested category were included with your link.) I’d love to see some editors and publishers give us some ideas for getting a foot in the door. Some librarians share a special program that rocks. Some reviewers tell how to handle the mountain of books. Some authors address school visits or writer’s block. I know that we all have so much knowledge to share with each other, and I wanted to present one great big opportunity to do so.

One of the things that has worked for me as a book reviewer, is my technique for keeping notes on my books. Often at work, I’ll read a picture book that I don’t want to bring home to review. Or I’ll be returning a book and realize that I didn’t copy down that perfect quote from it. Now, I can’t blog at work and my notes are related to my librarian job as well. So what to do?

I’ve had success in composing an email to myself, writing my notes in there, and sending it. The notes are usually quick impressions, plots, quotes, or booktalking points. After sending them, I keep them in a folder on my email account. Sometimes I use them to review a book. Sometimes I use a few of them for a compilation post. Sometimes they remind me of the perfect booktalking point. Sometimes I don’t use the notes at all. But in any case, I’m able to let go of that book because I know that I wrote down some reminder of its existence. It also keeps the information accessible from home or work, as the notes can be relevant to both places. Anyway, it helps me, and maybe it will help you.

This trick taught me something else extremely important for a librarian who supervises computers for the public. We get kids who want to type something on Word and print it for class. They never seem to have a disc or flash drive, but they need to save it because their first session is ending or they might need to correct it. I tell them to send the document as an attachment in an email to themselves. Then in their second session, or if they do need to correct it after all, they can pull it up from their email. I saved countless school reports this way, and if your library has a similar setup with timed-out computer sessions, this may be a helpful tip for your library. (Before I realized this, I’d talk to three kids a week who would “save” documents to the desktop of the computer, not realizing that the documents would disappear as soon as their session was over. Heartbreaking.)