Humor in Fiction - The Last Part!

This is my last blog on writing humor (for now). You can read my first three parts here, here, and here. 

Choosing to write with humorous intent doesn’t mean you are allowed to blow off the other craft of writing elements. Not long ago I read this short piece of fiction that lurched from joke to joke. It could have been a really good book, but the author didn’t care about craft or logic or anything, but funny. And because the author focused on one thing, it was only funny for a few pages and then it was just silly.

In a book, jokes aren’t in there just to be funny. Everything in your novel needs to do more than one thing.

In both novel excerpts (posted in previous blogs), the goal of the humor is to engage the reader with my heroines, but it also tells you something about them. Sara gets scared, but covers it up with wry bravado. Doc gets mad and pokes her enemies with words and actions. She wants them to react, because that teaches her about them. And she does it without giving much away about herself, but she does reveal herself to the reader. They get to feel like they are in on the secret. This can also help to tie readers more deeply into your character’s fictional journey.

I’d like to say I am all wise and all knowing when I write my books. But I’m not. I throw everything on the page because I’m an “into the mist” writer. No plan, just words and more words. It’s in the editing process that I make everything earn its place in the story. It’s hard, but true that what you cut away is as important as what you keep.

All writing is rewriting. Humor isn’t exempt from the rewriting. It is in the excising that humor really begins to shine. It’s like cutting back the weeds in a garden. You want it to flourish, to show to its best advantage, not take the weeds and put them on display. If there are any rules to humor writing, then this would qualify as one: don’t kill your own jokes.

I’d like to say it’s an organic, shi-shi process, that I’m really smart, but it’s not and I’m not. It’s big and messy and frustrating and often not funny. I have to work to find each character’s voice and finding a wry or humorous voice is part of that. My characters can’t all sound and joke the same. It’s like tuning a piano. I keep hitting spots over and over, adjusting it until the tone is clear and true—to me.

And then I give it to a reader or readers and when it comes back, I do it all over again. I drain my creative well trying to make the surface product look effortless. And then I hand it off to my editor, and eventually reviewers and readers. And then I brace for impact.

Remember what I said about how I can’t control how it hits anyone else. I can still hit wrong notes with readers because they aren’t me.

You launch your story and you don’t get to decide how or where it lands. It can land on the moon, or in the garbage if you accidentally push a reader’s button wrong.

The good news, humor can help with that, too. I take the angst and frustration of what I can’t control and fold it back into my fiction. No one but me knows who the dead people really are in my books. Trust me when I say, someone annoys me, they are going down—fictionally.

So let’s summarize what we’ve learned about my non-rules for writing humor:

Add humor—and everything else—very carefully.

You don’t get to control the way your audience reacts.

Humor comes from character, plot or both.

Throw in some serious for contrast.

Humor can build a bridge between the reader and your story—or it can burn it.

Humor can help readers bond with your characters—or learn to hate them.

Jokes need to do more for your story than be funny—though they do need to be funny.

Don’t kill your jokes.

All writing is rewriting, even funny writing.

You launch your story and you don’t get to decide how or where it lands.

I know I said the same thing two different ways, but that’s because it needs to be said twice. If you’re going to write humor, you are adding another risk factor to the process, an extra element that readers can love or hate, but it is—in my humble opinion—well worth the risk. If you can make anyone laugh, then go for it. It’s a lot of fun being funny. 

This concludes my discussion on humor. While it wasn't necessarily funny, I hope you learned something about writing funny from it. This past week there was a discussion at The Galaxy Express about humor in science fiction. If you haven't tried funny in your fiction (as a reader or writer), I hope you'll give it a shot. I know I like funny. :-)

Perilously yours,

Pauline

http://www.perilouspauline.com

pauline@paulinebjones.com

Girl Gone Nova

"A spectacular ride!" Romantic Times

Her world rocked, and when it stopped, it was off its axis. She should have known how far off, but she didn’t. Her brows pulled together as the remaining sliver of sentience in her brain produced a hypothesis based on her body’s reactions.

Desire.

So that’s what it felt like.

From Girl Gone Nova