Being funny isn’t always fun

“In the process of looking for comedy, you have to be deeply honest. And in doing that, you’ll find out here’s the other side.  You’ll be looking under the rock occasionally for the laughter.” – Robin Williams

I never set out to be a writer. I do recall a time in 4th grade where I wrote some weird Star Treky short story about some creatures called Geefnobbles that lived in Aghanistan.  They looked like pink Tribbles only with flamingo legs.  This is strange because I had never seen Star Trek, so at least I didn’t plagiarize it.  I remember my teacher, Mrs. Smith (not an alias) being impressed that I can spell Afghanistan. Hey, I was political even back in 1982.  Being recognized for my writing at such a young age let to shattering disappointment, however, because my spelling landed me in the Diocesan Spelling Bee.  My moment in the spotlight proved too be blinding, as I stumbled over “icicle”, spelling it “I-C-I-S-I-C-L-E.” That humiliation taught me to never again listen to people telling me to pause before speaking.  If only the word was Uzbekistan I might have had a chance.

I don’t have a burning passion to write, nor do I find it particularly therapeutic, as I believe poets do.  I suppose I write because it comes easy to me.  That should be obvious from the lack of style, technique, grammar, forethought, and editing. What I mean though, is what comes out on a page/screen is pretty much just me having a conversation in my head with one of the 17 different people living in there like hobbits.  I’ve been told that’s what people like about it.  I’m not out to write the Great American Novel, although I should try, because The Grapes of Wrath was really freaking depressing.  I just try to be honest and make people laugh. Some days it works, some days it doesn’t.

When I took a writing course two years ago, I really learned where my strengths lie as a writer (Lay? Lie? See, I don’t know the difference. And I’m assuming you don’t either, unless my 5th grade English teacher, Mrs. Leo is reading this and correcting me with her green pen and giving me two demerits for improper usage. (Catholic school was no joke, yo.)  I digress. I learned that I have a knack for dialogue, which leads me to my screenwriting pursuits. Also, having the attention span of a fruit fly, I can’t focus on anything longer than a personal essay. I’d still like to pull together a book of essays someday, but there are too many squirrels playing with shiny objects in my yard.

I understand humor is subjective. I don’t find Amy Schumer particularly funny. Many people do. That’s what makes what I do such a challenge for a natural introvert–the fear of rejection. I could never do standup comedy because the first heckler would make me burst into tears and retreat to the nearest cave. Blogging is easier if I don’t have to look at people. I get that many people feel that sarcastic humor is mean-spirited. That’s why I lean more toward sardonic stories about myself. I can be mean to me. But it’s all honest. It is born from humiliation and pain and self-healing and alcohol. I put it out there to make someone else laugh and feel better. That’s the point of comedy. Getting a reaction.

So this is my request to you. If you like what you read on here, give me some feedback. A like, a share, a comment. Let me know that I don’t suck. Because like Robin says, it’s really a shot to the solar plexus to put yourself out there, and then have to look under a rock for a laugh. Besides, there’s snakes there.

8 thoughts on “Being funny isn’t always fun

  1. You don’t suck. Your writing is like the conversations I have with myself while I am driving, knowing I will never be able to remember enough to put into words after I park.


  2. I can hear your voice so clearly and can envision it as the voice over intro for a movie. You have a knack for being able to just say things like it is with humor. There is no punchline but rather a series of laugh taps that makes your writing so solid. My two cents? I say you make fun of other people. If you can crack jokes about you then it should be fair that everyone get a little Dupreyed too. Keep on rockin.


  3. I feel like I know at least a handful of the 17 inhabiting your brain. Their familiar, comforting, sarcastic & snide voices speak my language. I’m certain upon meeting they’d be included in my bff circle!
    Maybe you suck as a writer…? idk, but I happen to love reading every word you write!
    Even seeing your name waiting in my inbox makes me smile.
    Continue! PLEASE!


  4. I think your writing is brilliant. I was a little shocked by how good it is when I first read your blog, because I know you really only from college, and even then didn’t know you well, and if I’d known then that you could write, I would have dragged you into the newspaper office. But this post makes it apparent that perhaps you couldn’t write then, so I suppose my whole thought process here is meaningless. Except for the part about enjoying your writing. If you wrote a book, I would buy it. Heck, I’d even read it.


  5. I want to read your book, I really do…I don’t have a freaking moment! I do, however, have this short moment to read your thoughts, including those of Mrs. Leo, about writing – about writing about the simplicity and complexity of LIFE. Write on.


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