Category Archives: writing humor

The Coat of Many Colors

Denny&Tommy1I am nearing the completion of my novel Snow Babies.  The editor, Jessie Cornwell, sent it back to me with the third read-through completed.  I am now closing in on a completed final draft ready to go to print.  And I am posting this post to acknowledge that the character of the hobo with the quilted jacket for a coat is indeed me.  Well, as close to being me as a fictional character who may or may not be an angel can come.  I admit I am probably not as good as Lucky Catbird Sandman is good.

But I am a man who is basically a Walt Whitman-type poet-y sort of man in a cartoony sort of way.  That is what the Catbird really is.

ragged man

He wears a coat of many colors which is made up of many varicolored patches.  Each patch in the crazy quilt of his coat stands for a memory of the many people he has known and the problems he has solved.  He helps the main character of the story, a small-town Iowa girl named Valerie Clarke, as her little town is besieged by a terrible blizzard.  The Trailways bus is stranded near the town, and on the bus are four orphan boys, running away to nowhere and desperately needing the intervention of the angels to help them escape the lives they’ve left behind.  Catbird spins miracles out of random things and random snatches of Walt Whitman’s poetry.  He carries around a copy of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, and he quotes from it like a Bible.  So, he is a me-character because he was born in my goofy brain and represents no real person living or dead.  He is more of a literary device than a man… just like me.  And that is notable because all the other players in the story are based on real people that I have known, either in Iowa or Texas, real people who have been a significant part of my real life.

tree time banner

I believe this is why the novel is the most important thing I have ever written.  It is because, if I ever found any real worthy wisdom to spread around like jam on bread, it is to be found in this book.  It is the best thing I have ever written and published.  At least, so far.  And the mysterious stranger character, the man in the coat of many colors, Catbird… is me.  Judge for yourself if I am not like him.

Catbird Me 2

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Filed under humor, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, Snow Babies, writing humor

Lazy Plugs for Small Holes

Snowies

I have been working on final edits for my novel Snow Babies.  I have also been struggling with diabetes, arthritis, and COPD.  At the same time, I have been writing up a storm on my blog and posting all kinds of incredibly goofy and somewhat creative stuff.  So today is a break without leaving a hole in my goal of posting a blog post every single day of 2015.  I have to go all the way to Balch Springs, Texas today for a flag football game.  So, if you are disappointed with this meager post, go back and look at any of the other recent posts you may have missed.  I’m not saying they are worth the effort, but wasting your time is what I do.

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Timeline – Part 2

Val B22You may remember that yesterday I was giving a run-down of my various Home Town Novel projects according to the order they supposedly happen in real time (measured in years).  Here is what I went over yesterday;

Superchicken, set in 1974, the first Home Town Novel that I completed.

The Baby Werewolf (also possibly titled The Wolf in the Attic), set in the Fall of 1974, not yet completed.

The Forever Boy, set in Spring 1975, not yet written in manuscript form.

Sweet Pickles, set in the Fall of 1974 and Spring of 1975, half written, but possibly too graphic to publish.

Under Blue Glass, set in 1977 and not yet written in manuscript form.

When the Captain Came Calling, is set in 1983-84, the manuscript is currently at 25,000 words and being worked on.

And the novel I am editing for publication this week, Snow Babies, set in the Winter of 1984.  Snow Babies is the story of how the small town survives the raging blizzard and faces the prospect of freezing to death.  Valerie Clarke, in the picture above, is the central character in a large cast trying to avoid being the one the snow spirits have come to claim.

The second generation of Norwall Pirates, the boys’ club of dreamers, goofballs, and liars, have come to be led by a girl, Mary Philips and Valerie is the second girl ever to join the club.

Crooner

Francois
The next novel has undergone two transformations.  It started as a book called Little Boy Crooner.  It is about an orphan from France who comes to live with ne’er-do-well Iowegian relatives.  Homesick and deeply troubled, the boy has discovered a natural talent for karaoke, and has a voice that people come from miles away to hear.  Then, the clowns of the Dreamlands began invading this story and had to be renamed.  It is now called Sing Sad Songs… with Clowns.  I may, however change the name to just Sing Sad Songs.

 

Sing Sad Songs and the next novel in the series, Fools and Their Toys, happen at the same time in 1985-86.  They not only share a setting and many of the same characters, but they share a villain and many of the same plot-shaping events.  They are, however, very different stories.

Fools n Toys

 

Fools and Their Toys is the story of autistic Murray Dawes.  Because he has never really been able to communicate before, his turning point comes when a new member of the family, an adopted little brother, makes for him a ventriloquist’s dummy in the form of a zebra.  He calls it Zearlop and uses it to unleash the hidden intelligence that was there through all those years when other people thought he was retarded.  Unfortunately, just as Murray is blossoming, a serial killer comes along, targeting young boys.  More unfortunately still, some from the area believe Murray may be the killer.

class Miss Mcover

Leadership of the Pirates is passed from Mary to Valerie.  And in 1988 I have set my current contest novel The Magical Miss Morgan.  Valerie passes the leadership of the Pirates to her highly imaginative and extremely annoying cousin Timothy Kellogg.  Tim is a the second most important character in the story of the teacher, Miss Morgan, who loves to teach.  Miss Morgan is the sister of original Pirate wizard, Milt Morgan.  Because of her brother, she inherits responsibility for a local war between good and evil fairies, while at the same time trying to save her job from evil principals, parents, and school board members and teach a lesson or two worth remembering forever.  This full manuscript novel is currently being judged for the contest, and will be submitted for publication after.

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Tim Kellogg is one of two main characters in the next novel, The Bicycle-Wheel Genius.  Orben Wallace, the inventor, is the title character who may have accidentally created a time machine.  The novel is set in the years from 1988 to 1990, and it is about how the genius’ old inventions come back to haunt him as he tries to solve the problem of having invented a time machine, having worked on mysterious government projects, and having helped to fight off an alien invasion.  This novel is also complete and merely awaiting the proper time to get published.

 

Catch a Falling Star is the published novel that started this blog and my dream of making it as a novelist.  It is set in 1990 and tells the story of when the Telleron alien empire of frog-like fin-headed aliens fail to invade Norwall, Iowa because they hadn’t reckoned on meeting the Pirates.See Catch a Falling Star on Amazon here.

My Art 2 of Davalon

I guess I leave it here for today.  It seems there is enough more to fill another blog… Part 3.

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Filed under aliens, characters, clowns, humor, Iowa, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, publishing, Snow Babies, writing humor

Humor Without Insults

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I am not one who can stand to watch Republican debates.  I know the clown car is full to busting, but I can’s stand the idea that one of those narrow-minded, fact-free, duplicitous Bozos could end up being the next president.  (Or fascist dictator, when you consider what “fascist” actually means, and what former President Carter has said about the U.S. not being a democracy any more.)  If one of those clowns wins it, the true power will once again reside with the unseen ring master, like it was with the rodeo-clown George W. Bush and his secret puppet-master, Dick Cheney.  And I pay enough attention to know that Donald Trump was so insulting to women during the debate, that Democrats can pick Beelzebub to run as their candidate and women still won’t vote Republican.

I watched the final Jon Stewart Daily Show instead.  Stewart is more liberal than I am and uses a lot more bad words than I ever could, but his humor and politics are far gentler and kinder than anything coming out of the mouths of name-calling conservatives.  They uniformly say terrible and untrue things about President Obama and Hilary Clinton.  They don’t hold back from calling even their own Senate leader a liar (a la Senator “Slappy Happy” Ted Cruz.and Senator Mitch McConnell).  The Donald is a master of the crude and inappropriate slam.  Look at the unfounded claims he made against Mexicans and the cowardly way he impugned the honor of Senator John McCain.  Jon Stewart mocks them by taking their own actual statements and putting them beside the verifiable facts to show the absurdity of their political beliefs and goals without casting insults.  Yes, I love his turtle voice for aping Mitch McConnell, but there is a gentleness to his wit that shows affection for his subjects rather than laying waste to their psyches with crude insults and unfounded accusations.

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I had to learn the kind of humor I’m extolling here as a classroom teacher.  You cannot believe how fragile the little animals can be when you resort to calling them names.  A growing, developing, vulnerable psyche cannot take the random bash and cruel cut the way an adult can (though even an adult shouldn’t have to).  You have to learn to be funny by the surprising imagery you use, the comparisons with funny things, and the flat out absurd.  And self-deprecating humor is the only kind of insult you can actually get away with.  (I even learned that when a student grows to love and respect you too much, even insulting yourself to make a point is out the window.)

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Humor definitely has its uses in the classroom.  This classroom poster was used both to teach students how to write a quatrain of twin couplets, and also to teach them that classroom discipline was a matter of teaching them how not to be like cockroaches.  I am not directly calling them cockroaches.  Instead I am telling them that if they choose to use the thoughtless and rather dumb behaviors that are against classroom procedure, they are choosing to be like roaches.  Of course, there is always the classroom clown like Steve-O Whoopsadoodle (not his real name, but a name he called himself) who glories in being like cockroaches.  You also have to learn to laugh at them politely and give them their few minutes of fools’ fame.

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So, to sum it all up, humor is a very useful thing in running the world and teaching things to others.  It is why I always go for the joke in my writing.  The place I am at doesn’t always have to be the happiest place on Earth, but it is a lot funnier and happier without the cruel and biting insult.  (Sorry about earlier, George, you old rodeo clown).  And if we can just be a little nicer to each other when we make fun, it might turn out to actually be fun.  (You are welcome to find all the gaffs and mistakes I made in the old drawing above.  I was still learning my craft in 1980.  But please don’t call me names over it.  I have had all the blue I can handle for one week.  I used up the last of it in this last Paffooney.)

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Where-in Lies the Funny?

The author without his make-up and after imbibing extra caffeine.

The author without his make-up and after imbibing extra caffeine.

I am attempting to be a humor writer.  There’s a statement that calls for more than a little rationalization.  Why would anyone want to be funny?  Especially why would a manic-depressive sick-old former school teacher want to be funny and write books for young people that tackle subjects like suicide, lying, nudity, sex, trans-genderism, death, suffering, religion, alien invasions, and getting old?  (Well, okay, getting old is inherently funny… especially the noises you unintentionally make from orifices and joints whenever you try to sit, move, lift, eat, or breathe.)  I ask myself this question only because I need to get to 500 words and stretch out the hoopti-doo to cover up the fact that I already know the answer and it is short and simple.  Joking about the things that tear your life apart is the only way to handle things and not become a serial killer.  (Make that cereal killer, especially Kellogg’s cereal of any and every description.  I am a very loving and accepting fool at heart and could never kill even one person… probably even in self-defense.)  I recently took a Who-do-you-write-like test that I found on another blog at All Things Chronic.  Here is the link; https://painkills2.wordpress.com/2015/05/31/who-do-you-write-like/

That silly little analyzer took a bit of my purple paisley prose and churned out a horror-writer answer, H.P. Lovecraft.  The Lord of the Old Mad Gods and Moonbeasts is a particular favorite of mine, one of several writers whose novels I have read everything I can get my hands on.  I still sleep with the lights on at night because of The Dunwich Horror, and The Shadow Over Innsmouth.  I am mad with admiration for his allusions to gibbering sounds and unholy terrors that taint and transfix our lives with fear to the very marrow of the bones.  I have to admit, I like the idea of being compared to him, in spite of the fact that he tries to inspire fear and madness, while I aim for goofiness and gaiety.   It is a delicious irony to try always to be Mark-Twain funny while writing with a horror writer’s convoluted and dictionary-intensive style.

And don’t get the idea from my mention of him in this self-reflecting ramble through jumbled ideas that I really believe I am as funny as Mark Twain.  I am not deluded or mentally ill… well, not deluded, anyway.  I am still learning to make people laugh with words.  And I don’t mean to be mean about it.  I don’t do George Carlin F**k-the-world-style humor.  I don’t even do Don Rickles-style insults.  I am more in favor of gentle humor.  I am not looking to call anybody names or trying to make certain folks look like Biblical-word-for-donkeys.  (Not even Republicans named Rick in yesterday’s post).  I want to show fictional people undergoing some of the dark things that filled my life with hurt, and doing it with the grace and good humor that only comes from a heart full of self-sacrificing love.  (Gee, no wonder I find comedy hard… I have chosen the most difficult and elusive kind of humor for my art.  I’d do a lot better with poo-poo jokes.)  (Oh, wait, I do poo-poo jokes, don’t I.  This one counts too.)Senator Tedhkruzh

I wonder if I made a mistake yesterday in portraying Senator Ted Cruz as a lizard man from outer space.  Was that a mean, name-calling sort of joke?  Or was I painting him in broad, humorous strokes with my colored pencils?  Once again, you can be the judge.  Here’s the picture again.  And you get to decide if anything I have ever said is funnier than it is just plain sad.

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Filed under humor, Paffooney, writing humor