Category Archives: Humor

Oh, the Things You’ll Write!

It’s hard to think of a hobby, pastime, or activity more versatile, more location-independent, than writing. You can write almost anywhere. I’ve come up with a poem about that. Sincere apologies, Dr. Seuss:

You can write stuff on a train. You can write stuff on a plane.

You can write stuff in your house. Write beside your dozing spouse.

Write by soft electric light. Write quite late into the night.

You can write until the dawn. You can write out on the lawn.

You can write while in a park. You can write on old tree bark.

You can write both here and there. You can write most anywhere.

You can write while at a desk, from sublime to the grotesque.

Write first hither and then yon, and while sitting on the john

Write in your own living room, in a meeting while on Zoom.

Write while sitting in a chair wearing only underwear.

Write while riding in a car. Write when you get to the bar.

You can write both there and here. Write between big gulps of beer.

You can write while still in school, then while tanning at the pool.

You can write within your dorm. Write through a torrential storm.

You can write your prose so clear, hanging from a chandelier.

Have you written ‘till you cried, halfway up a mountainside?

You can write on any trip, even on a fine cruise ship.

You can write beneath the moon. Write aloft in a balloon.

You could write, or so I’ve heard, high up in a whirlybird.

You can by world unseen, while aboard a submarine.

You can write on your commute. Or hanging from a parachute.

You can write your very best while atop Mount Everest.

Write in far-off Kathmandu, or even while in Timbuktu.

You can write in every place. Even while in outer space.

Write while in a time machine. (Done before you start, I mean.)

You can write in any spot. That’s convenient, is it not?

You can write, (this ain’t no gibe), better than—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 18, 2022Permalink

Toward an Inoffensive English Language

The Association Promoting Rational Improvement of Language just revealed its Focus On Offensive Language initiative, and I’m a fan.

Linguists have long asserted that language determines thought. The Association intends to change our language so speakers and writers can’t convey an offensive word or sentence. In time, it would then become impossible to think an offensive thought.

The Association has made progress toward this goal. They’ve persuaded all major publishers of English dictionaries to remove offensive words from their lexica, beginning this year.

Just today, the U.S. House of Representatives passed H.R. 0401, which calls for starting the process of language improvement early next fiscal year, with full implementation occurring in early April 2025. The prospects for the bill’s passage in the Senate and becoming law look promising.

According to Sue Donim, a spokesperson for the Association Promoting Rational Improvement of Language, “Our new Focus On Offensive Language initiative plans to change present-day English into ‘Inoffensive English.’ We’ll begin by eliminating seven categories of offensive words from the dictionary so such words will fall out of usage.”

  1. Swear words. Eradicating profanity will greatly reduce the chance of offending others.
  2. Mental condition words. Words like insane, cuckoo, fool, and their many synonyms will vanish from dictionaries so they no longer offend.
  3. Gender words. Gender-based pronouns are already on the way out, and this initiative will hasten that. Also marked for elimination are nouns such as man, woman, boy, girl, etc. This will also include all words containing these gender-based words, such as mental and manatee.
  4. Racial words. Any words used to separate people by race will vanish from dictionaries and from common usage. In time, this will include all colors describing human skin hues. That sector of the color wheel will not contain names for those tones.
  5. Sexual words. All words having anything to do with intercourse or reproduction, or sexual orientation, must go, as these often cause offense.
  6. Age words. Since words like codger and whipper-snapper can be offensive, all words relating to human age will be stricken.
  7. Negative words. Words expressing negativity, like hate, detest, abhor, loathe, dislike, despise, disagree, etc. will go away. No longer will English speakers be able to use these to cause offense.

One exception to number 7 will be the word offensive itself. It must be allowed to linger on for a time, if only to mark additional words for eventual deletion from the language. By 2025, offensive, too, will depart the dictionary since that adjective will describe a state of being that no longer exists, or can even be imagined.

Aside from the obvious benefit of weeding offensive words from the language and rendering future English-speakers incapable of thinking offensive thoughts, consider that the dictionary will be smaller and the language easier to learn.

Detractors of this initiative wonder about past texts written in, or translated into, English. They question what will happen when future readers come across quotes like:

  • “I’ve never met a man so ignorant that I couldn’t learn something from him.”
  • “Hate cannot drive out hate—only love can do that.”
  • “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
  • “Familiarity breeds contempt.”
  • “Ignorance is bliss.”
  • “Hell has no fury like a woman scorned.”

To speakers of Inoffensive English, these quotes contain words they won’t understand. So what? Most of us can’t read Chaucer, either.

Further, it will be impossible even to translate these quotes into Inoffensive English. The point is, future English speakers won’t even be capable of thinking the thoughts those quotes convey.

A better world, I say. Bring it on. Kudos to the Association Promoting Rational Improvement of Language and its Focus On Offensive Language initiative. If there’s one writer who wouldn’t dream of offending anyone, it’s—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 1, 2022Permalink

Fiction Writing, an Olympic Sport?

It’s been enjoyable watching the Tokyo Summer Olympics the past few weeks, but they failed to include my favorite sport—fiction writing.

Time to change that. After all, the Olympics logo looks like the letter ‘w,’ and writing begins with ‘w.’ It’s a natural.

If we work together, start a movement, and create enough buzz, we can get the sport of fiction writing approved as an Olympic sport. Here’s how:

The process for getting the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to recognize a sport begins with having the sport overseen by an international nongovernmental organization, an International Federation (IF).

Okay, well, fiction writers don’t really have that yet. International writing organizations exist, but so far they’re not overseeing writing as a sport. That’s the first thing to work on.

Consider this blogpost the founding of the Sport Fiction Writers of the World Federation (SFWWF). There we go—step one complete.

Next, that International Federation must file a petition with the IOC. File a written petition? We’re writers. We can file five petitions before finishing our first morning coffee.

After that, the IOC wants to be sure the IF enforces the Olympic Movement Anti-Doping Code. Hmm. Sad to say, that will likely exclude some writers from consideration. Most writers won’t be bothered by this.

The IOC will then review our application. The first thing they’ll assess is whether our sport is practiced by men in at least 75 countries and on four continents and by women in no fewer than 40 countries and on three continents.

Fiction writing itself meets this criterion, but as a sport? We’ll have to work on that.

Next, the IOC must determine whether the sport will increase the ‘‘value and appeal’’ of the Olympic Games and retain and reflect its modern traditions.

Value? Undoubtedly. Appeal? I have some ideas about that below.

The next criterion is that the sport must not depend on mechanical propulsion.

Check. No fiction writing while driving cars, motorcycles, speedboats, jetskis, etc.

…and last, the sport must not be purely a ‘mind sport.’

Oh-oh. Bit of a snag there.

Listen up, sport fiction writing fans. Here’s how we get around the ‘mind sport’ and appeal problems at the same time.

Imagine teams of writers, each team with equal numbers, each representing a country, each dressed in their nation’s colors. A panel of independent judges announces a theme, a setting, and a main character outline. Then they start a timer.

The writing commences. Each team must produce a short fictional story of at least 1000 words, written in their own country’s official language.

Here’s how we make it more appealing and less of a ‘mind sport.’ The judges award points based on:

  1. Time to complete (less is better),
  2. Creativity exhibited in the use of writing tools,
  3. Creativity exhibited in the writing process, and
  4. Quality of the story.

Numbers 2 and 3 will result in an event that’s fun to watch, ensuring strong appeal, and nobody will call sport fiction writing a purely mind sport.

Oh, yeah. One more rule. Teams can taunt and verbally abuse each other, but we won’t permit any physical contact between teams. Very important.

There we go. A plan. I’ve done the heavy lifting. Now all you have to do is execute that plan. I feel confident the USA can host a medal-winning fiction writing team either for Paris in 2024, or, if we miss that, Los Angeles in 2028.

I might as well start writing the speech I’ll give after winning the gold. I even know where I’ll keep the medal. Right there, in the home office of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

August 8, 2021Permalink

5 Rules for Writing Humor Right

You may think it’s difficult to write funny stories, but the truth is it’s excruciatingly agonizing. Also, if you endure all that pain and get the humor wrong, readers will laugh at you (and your mismatched clothes and uncombed hair) rather than at your story.

Since humorous writing is so tough to get right, why don’t we forget the whole thing? For one, if we can manage to tell a funny story, readers like it. An amusing tale lifts them from the gloomy tedium of their dreary lives, the poor things. Think of it as a public service, kind of a ‘clown-author saves the world’ idea.

I know, I know. I hear you saying, “But, Steve, I write serious fiction. I don’t need to know how to write humor.” Okay, surf elsewhere if you want. But you really should spice up your “serious fiction” with occasional bursts of frivolity, if only to break up the interminable stretches of seriousity.

For those still reading this, I’m about to reveal my five simple rules for writing humor. Well, they’re not that simple, and aren’t actually rules, but at least they do total up to five. To develop them, I scoured the Internet (and it needed a good scouring). Then I spent literally lots of minutes searching for good advice on writing humor. I found that good advice from Brian A. Klems, Joe Bunting, Annie Binns, and Joe Bunting again. While blindfolded, I then chose only the choicest rules, right up until I got tired. After five. Here they are:

1. Maintain the elephant of surprise. Take common sayings or clichés and tie them in knots. Go in directions the reader doesn’t expect.

B. Dare to ask why pants come in pairs. Start with the ordinary, the mundane, the familiar, and the everyday, then find some weird aspect about it all. Look at it from a bizarre angle. Drive your reader to that vantage and invite her to look, too. (Note, “Hey, Babe, let me drive you to my bizarre-angled vantage to look at my weird aspect” is not a recommended pick-up line. Ever. It’s a metaphor.)

III. It’s still legal to discriminate against words. Choose words carefully. Unearth a thesaurus and examine its guts. Select specific words, not general ones. Seek words that sound humorous when juxtaposed. (I think the word ‘juxtaposed’ is kinda funny all by itself.)

Four. It’s a story, not a routine. When a comedian performs a stand-up routine, he feels free to change topics several times. You can’t do that. Your story must hang together as an integral whole, not consist of disconnected jokes. I blogged once about how some movies do that well and some do it poorly.

7. No, sorry—5. Wait for it… Structure your sentences so the last words have the most impact. Ideally, the joke is in the very last word. Develop a comedic sense of timing so that you’re not rushing to get to that ending punch. Let your sentences roll along, lulling the reader, and then swing your sledgehammer. (Metaphor again.)

If you study those five rules carefully, I can guarantee that…well, that you’ve studied them carefully. You’re going to need a lot of practice to actually write funny stories, and so will—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 15, 2017Permalink