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.

 

Back to Basics: Make ‘em laugh

 

“Laughter is a universal language,” writes Chuck Swindoll. “The power of humor to build rapport is . . .  profound. . . . When handled with care, humor will also endear you to your audiences [readers], who will then give you greater access to their hearts.” (Saying it Well: Touching Others with Your Words)

 

You know Chuck’s right. Think back to a time when an author or speaker made you laugh. Charmed you. Beguiled you.

 

The two of you might never have met. Perhaps it was a performer, an athlete, an author, or a conference speaker—but after laughing you felt admiration, maybe even a link. His personality shined through. You enjoyed him. You liked him. You felt like you knew her, approved of her, and would like to spend time with her.

 

Laughter is a bonder, a connector.

Humor offers readers a shared experience.

 

That’s why the “laugh” part of  “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait” is important for writers to grasp.

 

Wilkie Collins gets credit for that advice, and writers and speakers follow that for obvious reasons: It keeps audiences engaged.

 

Here’s an example of how humor can endear you to your reader.

 

I once read an article about what could have been a boring subject—a winter squash soup. But the article was no yawner. See for yourself:

 

“I found myself under a misty night sky, the brick patio glistening with rain under the light of the crescent moon. 

 

“I raised a giant Kabocha [squash] over my head, gave out a shriek for good measure and hurled it into the brick. It was primal. . . .

 

“The husk broke loose, and I gathered the sweet orange chunks and returned to my warm kitchen. . . .

 

“There was something exhilarating about starting a pot of autumn soup by howling in the moonlight.” (Betsy Wharton, The Peninsula Daily News)

 

You smiled. I know you did. Some of you even chuckled.

 

You feel you know Betsy, at least a little,

after catching a glimpse of her shrieking

and howling in the moonlight.

 

Humor makes you, the author, feel real to readers.

 

Humor can also lighten the mood during stressful segments of your memoir. When writing about heavy topics—heartbreak, tragedy—humor can give readers a break.

 

Laughter lets readers catch their breath and regroup.

Humor can provide much-needed perspective and balance.

 

In composing my memoir, Grandma’s Letters from Africa, I’d been writing about witnessing (from a distance) inconceivable massacres that raged for months in neighboring African nations.

 

I continued writing about many colleagues who evacuated to Nairobi, Kenya, where my husband and I lived. For months we had prayed for those dear people, housed one of them, and welcomed a couple of them to join us for Christmas.

 

We listened to their stories, wept with them, and welcomed their children to our school.

 

Even though our missionary colleagues evacuated, we agonized over continuing bloodbaths Africans were inflicting upon each other.

 

The daily relentlessness left me numb.

 

Then things got worse.

Violent protests began near our office

and home in Nairobi.

 

Our world was spinning out of control.

 

And right there in the middle of it, I wrote a light-hearted vignette about my midnight fights with mosquitoes—about holding my own mock-violent protest over those most irritating insects in our apartment.

 

My silly little drama didn’t seem out of place in my memoir because that was how real life was happening at the time: In the midst of danger and chaos, wacky incidents popped up. (And I was thankful to laugh about something. Ya can’t cry all the time!) The mosquito vignetted offered a breather to both me, the writer, and my readers.

 

Antoinette Truglio-Martin captured the idea well when she said,

 

“Storytellers need to find  a chuckle

in between the drama and the sobs.”

 

Search for ways to make readers laugh—or giggle, or maybe snicker, or at least smile—in your memoir.

 

• Humor can add much-needed balance, respite from intense chapters in your story. (Click on Lisa Romeo’s post, “How to Add Humor to a Sad Memoir.”)
• It can enliven what could be a less-than-riveting topic, like Betsy Wharton’s cooking squash.
• And it can shine light on your personality and help readers feel connected with you. And that means they’ll be more likely to grasp your memoir’s important lessons and messages.

 

Make ‘em laugh: “an instant connection”

 

I hope you’ve enjoyed our recent posts on “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.”

 

You’ll remember that Wilkie Collins (1824-1889) gets credit for that advice, though he said he borrowed the idea from the music hall; some speculate he borrowed it from Dickens.

 

Whatever its origin, speakers and writers follow that advice for obvious reasons: it keeps audiences engaged.

 

In writing your memoir, then, “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.” I prefer to change Collins’ order—in many cases, I like to make ‘em laugh before I make ‘em cry.

 

Next week we’ll look at making ‘em cry, but today, we’ll finish with “make ‘em laugh.”

 

Remember: humor helps draw readers to you. It encourages bonding and allows readers to be involved with you in your story.

 

Humor makes you seem real. You are no longer a vague author lurking in shadows. Instead, your reader has spent a happy time with you and, as a result, she likes you. She wants to know you better.

And there’s a lot to be said about combining vulnerability with humor:

 

“The blend of vulnerability and humor,” writes pastor Chuck Swindoll, “established an instant connection that allowed what I had to say to slip past their defenses and find a warm welcome in their hearts.”

 

Chuck’s advice works for memoirists. He goes on to say:

 

“Humor will help you ‘say it well.’ When handled with care, humor will also endear you to your audiences, who will then give you greater access to their hearts.” (Touching Others With Your Words)

 

If you missed recent posts on making ‘em laugh

in your memoir, click on the links below.

 

And be sure to come back next week for “make ‘em cry.”

 

“Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.”

Humor in your memoir: “like a sneak attack”

Use humor the right way in your memoir

 

Use humor the right way in your memoir

Have you looked for ways to include humor in your memoir? I hope so, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the process—especially the end result.  (If you missed our last two posts, click on “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait” and Humor in your memoir: “like a sneak attack”.)

 

Humor can work wonders in human hearts and lives. Take, for example, what happened one day to Betsy Duffey and Laurie Myers (The Writing Sisters).

 

Feeling overwhelmed with responsibilities and tight schedules, they took a break and watched something on TV: Lucy and Ethel wearing bakery hats.

 

“As I watch them desperately wrapping candies unable to keep up with the speed of the conveyor belt, I totally relate to the feeling. I’m already behind today. Now I’m laughing and feeling connected, not alone in my frailty and human condition. It’s a relief to be reminded that I am human, made of dust. My own busy day pulls into perspective” (emphasis mine).

 

That’s the value of humor and its capacity to bond. In the same way Lucy and Ethel’s episode impacted The Writing Sisters, your humor can help readers bond with you and your story—and keep reading.

 

Readers like to be entertained. If you entertain them, you engage them, and you’ve begun to win them over.

“…We like to read other people’s

embarrassing stories.

They give us a laugh—

and often lift our mood

(‘at least I didn’t do that!’).

They can even provide

valuable learning experiences.

You don’t want to overdo it

and come across as a bumbling idiot—

but occasionally admitting to

something embarrassing

or talking about a failure

can make you more human

in your readers’ eyes.”

Ali Luke

 

Stand back and search for what’s comical or quirky in your situation. Look for ways to use subtle humor. Or maybe exaggerate just a wee bit. Experiment. Give yourself time. It might just work.

 

But here’s a caution: Avoid offending. Poke fun at yourself, not others. If we want readers to respect us, we must respect others.

 

The Writing Sisters caught my attention with this: “Worldly humor comes from a platform of superiority over others, Godly humor from a platform of humility.”

 

The Sisters shared Liz Curtis Higgs’ list comparing worldly humor with God-honoring humor:

 

“Worldly Humor

• Glorifies sin
• Puts down others
• Ridicules righteousness
• Hurts the spirit

 

Godly Humor

• Avoids offense
• Builds up others
• Honors the Lord
• Heals the Spirit” 

 

Laughter is

a universal language,

a common connector

a shared experience.

 

Use it

in your memoir.

 

Humor in your memoir: “like a sneak attack”

 Every once in a while, I run across a blog post that sticks with me. Does that happen to you, too?

 

October 10, 2010—ten years ago!—I read a Johnny B. Truant post about a brilliant technique we can apply to writing memoir.

 

Johnny told a story from his high school years when one afternoon, 1200 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.”

 

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 1200 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 think, to be smart, to make 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? Wasn’t that a brilliant technique?

 

Using humor in the beginning of their talk 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 engages your readers and makes you seem real. Humor endears you to your readers. Humor makes your readers enjoy you. (Read more at “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.”)

 

If you don’t establish a bond with your readers toward the beginning of your memoir, they’re likely to toss your memoir aside and let it get dusty. Or maybe throw it in the trash. Or donate it to the local thrift store.

 

If you want people to read your memoir, you’ve gotta hook your readers. Including at least a little humor someplace early in your memoir can do that. (Your memoir might not lend itself to humor—we’ll look at other options in the future—but everyone else should consider using it.)

 

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 challenges and heartaches. Everyone needs wisdom to make important decisions and live their lives well, and your memoir’s stories could help readers find their way through the bumps and potholes in the road.

 

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 helped:

• show you courage
• show you how to live an honorable life
• keep your faith strong
• help you not give up hope
• keep you on the right track
• inspire you
• pass on wisdom to you
• point you to God.

 

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

 

Your stories are important. If you don’t want readers to roll their eyes and toss your memoir aside, try the techniques those guest speakers did:

 

Introduce your main characters (that includes you)

in ways that entertain and interest your readers.

Draw them in.

Develop your characters so readers can

bond with them,

so they’ll care about them.

Create main characters readers can engage with,

like the kids in the school assembly engaged with the speakers that day.

 

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.

 

Who taught you the merits of keeping a promise, or arriving at work on time, or being loyal? What are your stories? Write them.

 

What did key people in your past teach you? And how? What are your stories? Write them.

 

If you want to pass on

important lessons

to future generations,

write engaging stories

with well-developed characters.

And consider using humor

toward the beginning

to draw them in.

 

“Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.”

“Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.” 

Wilkie Collins (1824-1889) gets credit for that advice, though he said he borrowed the idea from the music hall; some speculate he borrowed it from Dickens. 

Whatever its origin, speakers and writers follow that advice for obvious reasons: it keeps audiences engaged. 

In writing your memoir, then, “make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.” 

I prefer to change Collins’ order—I like to make ‘em laugh before I make ‘em cry. 

Humor endears you to your reader. 

Humor makes you seem real. You are no longer a vague author lurking in shadows. Instead, your reader has spent a happy time with you and, as a result, she likes you. She wants to know you better. 

If you doubt that, think back to a time when a stranger charmed you because he made you laugh. The two of you might never have met—perhaps he was a performer or athlete, or maybe a conference speaker—but after laughing together you felt admiration and probably even a bond. His personality shined through and you enjoyed him. You liked him. You’d like to spend time together. 

Laughter is

a universal language,

a common connector,

a shared experience. 

I once read an article about a boring subject—a winter squash soup recipe—but the article was no yawner. See for yourself in this excerpt: 

“I found myself under a misty night sky, the brick patio glistening with rain under the light of the crescent moon. I raised a giant Kabocha [squash] over my head, gave out a shriek for good measure and hurled it onto the brick. It was primal.… The husk broke loose, and I gathered the sweet orange chunks and returned to my warm kitchen.… There was something exhilarating about starting a pot of autumn soup by howling in the moonlight.” (Betsy Wharton, The Peninsula Daily News; emphasis mine) 

You smiled. I know you did. Some of you even chuckled. You feel you know Betsy, at least a little, after catching a glimpse of her shrieking and howling on her patio. 

Humor can also lighten the mood during stressful segments of your memoir. When writing about heartbreak, tragedy, and other heavy topics, inject humor occasionally. Something light gives readers a break. Laughter lets readers catch their breath and regroup. Humor can provide much-needed perspective and balance. 

In my first memoir, Grandma’s Letters from Africa, after writing about witnessing (from a distance) inconceivable atrocities that raged for months in neighboring nations in Africa, I poked fun at myself in a light-hearted vignette about my midnight fights with mosquitoes. 

I’d been writing about colleagues who eventually evacuated to Nairobi, Kenya, where my husband and I lived. For months we had prayed for them, housed one of them, and invited a couple of them to join us for Christmas. We welcomed their children into our school. We listened to their stories, wept with them, and prayed for them. 

Even though our colleagues were safe, we agonized over continuing massacres and mutilations Africans were inflicting upon each other. The daily relentlessness left all of us numb. 

Then things got worse: A segment of Nairobi’s population started violent protests near our office and home. It seemed like our world was spinning out of control. 

And right there in the middle of it, I held my own mock-violent protest about mosquitoes in our apartment. My silly little drama didn’t seem out of place in my memoir because that was how real life was happening at the time: In the midst of heightened tensions, worries, and heartaches, funny incidents popped up. (And I was thankful to laugh about something. Ya can’t cry all the time.) The mosquito vignette offered a breather to both my readers and me. 

In the future, we’ll look at making ‘em cry but, for now, search for ways to include a little humor in your memoir. 

Humor can enliven your memoir,

shine light on your personality,

and help readers feel acquainted with you.

 

Humor can also offer respite

from intense chapters in your story. 

 

Below you’ll find links about humor in your writing: 

Emily Drevet’s How to Be Funny With Well-Chosen Words 

Jeff Goins says humor is “…the difference between flat writing and dynamic communication.” Read more at Humor Writing for People Who Aren’tFunny 

Mark Nichols’ 20 Types and Forms of Humor [http://www.dailywritingtips.com/20-types-and-forms-of-humor/?utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=twitterfeed

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