I realised something this morning. Well, two things really. The first one is that, by taking on blogging here, I’ve actually taken on the one writerly job I never wanted to have. I’m a columnist!
To be a good columnist, in my opinion, you have to have a sense of humour. And I also believe that to be truly funny, you have to be smart. (with the exception of potty humour, which I don’t really find that funny.) SoI have enormous respect for people like Dave Barry, who can write an article that not only leaves me feeling a little warm and fuzzy after reading it, but also made me chuckle out loud while reading it.
But I never really wanted the gig myself. Be entertaining on demand? Please. Once a week no less? What-ev-er! And yet, here I am.
This realisation, as tends to happen, led to another.
Whether or not I took the gig as a ‘columnist’ aka blogger, I use humour in my Regular Writing. Fantasy or romantic suspense…I like my characters to have a sense of humour. I like to diffuse some of the tension with a well-placed quip. Or endear my characters by having them make some wry observation.
Sometimes my CP or beta readers will read through a scene I’ve laboured over and say “I don’t get it.” Which doesn’t surprise me. Humour is a pretty personal thing, really. And sarcasm, apparantly, doesn’t always transfer to the page. And it happens in real life often enough for me to be prepared for it.
I mean, I’m not a big Jim Carrey fan. Or Ben Stiller, or Rob Schneider. That over-the-top humour just bothers me. And I hate those supposedly funny sketches in sit-coms that involve one of the main characters being thoroughly embarassed.
But I’ll sit through the Usual Suspects any day of the week, and laugh my head off at the deadpan delivery of some truly brilliant one-liners. (ie: I’m telling you this guy is protected from up on high by the Prince of Darkness.) Took you a minute, didn’t it? That’s part of the charm of this brilliant kind of humour.
I know that humour has been dissected:humour can be evoked by the absurd, the unexpected, the wry observation, physical humour, potty humour… and I’m not going to try to do a better job of it here. But I do wonder what is your kind of humour? What makes you laugh out loud, in a book or a movie? What doesn’t work?
September 29th, 2006 at 8:07 pm
Humor is so incredibly subjective! I hate Ben Stiller, as in I want to hurt him he annoys me so much. Jim Carey is hit or miss and I have a sorta crush on Rob Schneider (and Adam Sandler — aka the God of Funny).
For me, humor works when the creator (writer, screen writer) obviously has their tongue in cheek (Stephanie Rowe’s last book had me in stitches) and doesn’t take things too seriously (IE they’re doing it and they know they’re doing it so it’s okay that they’re doing it) and sarcasm (OMG have you seen James Wood in THE SHARK!?). Sometimes (visaully) physical humor will work but it’s got to really catch me off guard.
September 30th, 2006 at 1:14 am
I’m a humor girl. Love all aspects of it. I used to love any and all Adam Sandler movies. And lately, my favorite type humor is Super Troopers and then the other end with O Brother where art Thou.
September 30th, 2006 at 2:25 am
I don’t like Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler. Humor that embarrasses people makes me cringe instead of laugh. I like visual physical humour with the right actor. Kramer on Seinfeld was hilarious. Jim Carry is hit or miss for me too.