Back to Basics: Use humor “like a sneak attack”

 

Years ago, I ran across a brilliant technique you can use in writing your memoir.

 

Johnny B. Truant told a story from his high school years when 1,200 students gathered for an assembly—but no one knew why.

 

Two men took the stage and, instead of telling why they were there, they told jokes and funny stories, commiserated with students about how bad high school is, and poked fun at teachers and administrators.

 

“We liked these guys,” Johnny said. “They thought like we did. Their stories were interesting and fun. We settled in and relaxed.”

 

“We stopped caring why we’d been called to the assembly. Someone made a mistake and had booked pure entertainment, but we weren’t about to complain.”

 

“But everything changed about halfway through the talk.

“It was like a sneak attack:

it was on us before we knew it was coming.”

 

The guest speakers started talking about AIDS, abstinence, teenage drinking, and drug use.

 

“It was all the stuff that adults usually talk to teenagers about—the stuff teenagers usually roll their eyes at.

 

“But we weren’t rolling our eyes. We were listening. We’d been transfixed.”

 

The speakers didn’t preach that AIDS is something to avoid.

 

Instead, they brought the crowd back to a girl they’d talked about in their funny stories—and told them she died of HIV.

 

They didn’t tell the students not to drink and drive.

 

Instead, they brought the crowd back to a boy they’d heard about earlier in the funny stories—and told them he was hit by a drunk driver and spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

 

Afterward, when those 1,200 kids filed out of the auditorium, Johnny says, “Most of the kids who streamed past me were silent or crying.”

 

Those guest speakers had come to urge the teens to avoid dumb choices and reckless living and peer pressure and, instead, to be smart, to make the right choices.

 

Usually, high schoolers thumb their noses at adults who try to tell them such things, “But because they did their selling through stories, we’d bought it all,” remembers Johnny.

 

What do you think? Isn’t that a brilliant technique? A winning method?

 

Using humor in the beginning was a factor in their story’s success—which brings us back to last week’s post and the importance of making ‘em laugh in your memoir.

 

Humor establishes a bond between you and your readers. It makes you seem real. Humor endears you to them. It makes them enjoy you. They’ll remember you and your story.

 

Including at least a little humor early in your memoir can do all that for your readers. (Maybe your memoir does not lend itself to humor—a small number don’t—but I encourage everyone else to consider using it.)

 

If you can get your readers to laugh, they’ll let their guard down a bit. That will make them more interested in what you tell them later—in the takeaways you will offer them. (Click on Your memoir’s all-important takeaways.)

 

Think of this:

You don’t know who your readers might be.

You’re writing your memoir

for people who come after you,

perhaps generations not yet born.

You can’t look into the future

to know what their situations and challenges might be.

 

But you do know everyone has hardships and heartaches.

Everyone needs wisdom to make important decisions

and to live their lives well,

and your memoir’s stories could help readers

find their way through the bumps 

and potholes in the road of life.

 

Remember: God used other people’s stories

to help make you who you are.

Their stories rubbed off on you.

It’s as if other people’s stories are infectious. Contagious.

 

Someone’s story:

• taught you how to be courageous
• showed you how to live an honorable life
• helped keep your faith strong
• helped you not give up hope
• kept you on the right track
• inspired you
• passed on wisdom
• pointed you to God.

 

Now it’s your turn. In the same way other people’s stories helped you, you can help others.

 

Your stories are important, so try the techniques those guest speakers did:

 

Win over your readers with comedy, and then carry out your sneak attack: Bring out the deeper lessons of your stories.

 

To help you get started:

 

Who impressed upon you the importance of safe driving, or standing up to peer pressure, or the consequences of cheating or lying? What are your stories? Write them. Try to include some humor.

 

Who taught you the merits of keeping a promise, or arriving at work on time, or being loyal? What are your stories? Write them. Search for ways to include something funny.

 

If you want to pass on

important lessons

to future generations,

write engaging stories

with well-developed characters.

And consider using humor

to draw them in.