should hire you to write lines like that for me.”
Notice, he didn’t ask the young writer to write the lines. He asked the veteran, even though it was the newcomer who was doing all the funny lines. The comedy world, including this particular comic, was not ready to admit yet that the youngster had amazing talent. That’s just part of the business and one of those obstacles that you must patiently endure. Eventually, as they did in Cassius Clay’s case, they’ll recognize your skill.
You will be rejected: Like it or not, rejection is part of the writing life. I opened this chapter with a boxing parable and just finished talking about a famous and skillful boxer, Cassius Clay, who later changed his name to Muhammad Ali. I’ll use the fight game once again to make a point. I opted out of a boxing career once I realized that people were going to try to punch me in the kisser. Others like Muhammad Ali embraced boxing and built a legendary career in it. But all of those who do pursue a fighting career know that sooner or later someone is going to clobber them upside the head. It’s part of the sport.
Rejection is part of writing. All writers get rejected at some time or another—even the most successful ones. Yes, they can get their books published, but maybe the publisher may ask that Chapter Four be rewritten. That’s rejection. Being rebuffed will always be a threat to a writer. It’s never pleasant, but it’s also not the curse that we sometimes make it out to be. In fact, we’ll see that it can be a blessing.
Consider that being turned down by a publisher, an agent, or a client is not a condemnation of your product. There are many reasons why material may be refused. Perhaps a particular comic simply can’t afford more material at this time. Maybe a show you’re submitting a spec script to already has an idea similar to yours in the works. A certain comic may appreciate your humor but realize that it’s not compatible with his or her comedy style. And, of course, sometimes the comic may just think your stuff is terrible, but not always.
On one show I produced we needed a performer to play the love interest of one of our stars. It would be a part in only one episode. Several agents sent their clients to audition for our show. We had only one part to offer, but we had about nineteen applicants. If you do the math, it quickly becomes obvious that eighteen of them would not get the part. That doesn’t mean that eighteen of them were horrible performers. No. It simply means that we could hire only one.
Rejection can often be an incentive to improve the quality of your work. I knew a writer who submitted a piece to Reader’s Digest. The article may have run six pages. The assigned editor sent back a twelve-page letter critiquing the submission and offering various suggestions. The author followed that critique in rewriting the article, which did sell to the magazine. Not only did this article sell, but over time several others also sold. At one point this author was the leading freelance contributor to Reader’s Digest, a periodical that pays quite well.
Another friend of mine wrote a sitcom and submitted it to a specific show. Almost as soon as he sent it off, however, he was dissatisfied with it and knew it would not sell or impress the producer. He immediately began work on another spec script and sent it to the same show. As his new script was on its way to the producers, the producer’s decision on the first spec script was on its way to the author.
The first show was soundly rejected. But on reading the second script, the producer called his agent and said, “Hire this guy.” Just a couple of years later, the author and the producer were coproducing a new television series.
You can’t allow rejections to discourage you.
Earlier I said that rejection can sometimes be a blessing. Consider the casting call where eighteen of nineteen hopefuls were rejected. The following year, my partner and I were producing another show and needed an actress for a repeating role. We remembered one of the rejectees from that casting call and offered her a job on our new show. Being turned down for a one-week acting gig resulted in a twenty-six-week job. That can be considered a blessing.
It’s beneficial to learn the peaks and valleys of the profession you’re pursuing. Be prepared for the pitfalls and hang in for the long run. And remember, all things considered, it’s probably less painful than boxing.
Now let’s move on to the fun stuff—learning to write comedy.
A Brief Introduction to Joke Writing
A joke is anything that makes people laugh. A joke can be a series of words, an action, a reaction. It can even, in certain instances, be strategic silence.
A joke is the basic building block of humor. It’s the smallest unit of comedy, yet it’s necessary to build the larger constructions of comedy—sketches, sitcoms, essays, films, and books. Master the joke form and you’ve got a solid foundation for writing all types of humor.
The single most important element of comedy is surprise. Every joke must have a punchline. That’s the surprise. That’s what prompts the laughter. Comics and comedy writers must remember that if you don’t prompt the laughter, you probably won’t get laughter. You must tell the audience when to laugh. It’s too important to leave to their discretion.
Jokes also have an economy to them—an economy of words. Shakespeare said, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” It’s usually beneficial in writing jokes to be concise. However, each joke must convey a certain amount of information. If you’re going to tell an audience when to laugh, you have an obligation to tell them what they’re laughing at. You have to supply enough data for them to get the joke. At the same time, though, you don’t want to supply so much information that you dilute the gag or tip off the essential surprise.
Your jokes should also be clever. You want to bring uniqueness to your humor. You want to offer your audiences something they never thought of on their own. Either that or you want to present something they all know and recognize with different, offbeat phrasing. In other words, you want to avoid the obvious. Strive to say something different or say something ordinary in a different way.
Jokes are important to all forms of humor, so it’s essential for aspiring humorists to teach themselves to write jokes. Some writers who are primarily interested in other forms of writing besides stand-up may be tempted to skip over these lessons. In a word, don’t—for many reasons.
Joke writing is good training in observation. You have to see the humor around you before you can condense it into a powerful one-liner. That’s a talent that is certainly required in crafting a story.
Joke writing develops a facility with words. The exact word and precise phrasing can often make or break a joke. Certainly an extensive and colorful vocabulary coupled with scrupulously correct phrasing will benefit writers of all genres.
Also, even though they are the smallest unit of humor, jokes have a dramatic construction of their own. Each one tells its own tale. If you teach yourself to construct a joke well, you’ll also gain experience in telling a story well.
Regardless of which type of comedy writing you aspire to, devote a generous amount of time to learning to write gags. Mark Twain wrote some pretty quotable quips. Oscar Wilde did, too. Both were accomplished writers.
