As we've discussed so far, I had been working on the book for a year before I began to seriously write the funny. And once I dove into the writing, it was just a tremendously enjoyable process for me. There are certainly times when writing feels like a slog, when every painful analogy is like, uh ... like, I don't know, extracting a tooth. But there are just as many times when the words spring into your head, fully-formed and unbidden, and those moments are pure joy.
One of the most rewarding parts of writing a book was having this huge beautiful empty canvas. To write for the Web is to write in quick blog-like bursts, and there's not the opportunity to develop overarching themes, to weave a beautiful tapestry of ideas. It's this wide-open playground, as opposed to the narrow playpen of a blog. You've been writing jingles, and now you get to compose a symphony. I have heard other authors speak of being intimidated by all those blank pages, but for me they were liberating.
I don't want to give the impression that it's easy, because writing well takes real effort. I need to be honest: I'm not trying to write real well for you here. I'm just trying to organize my thoughts in a semi-coherent fashion. But this is free, and you're paying for the book. To make every sentence count, to stuff your prose as densely as possible with jokes of all shapes and sizes: that's hard work.
What's deceiving is that reading a good author's work is effortless -- in fact, the more effortless it seems, the more effort probably went into writing it. But it's no different from watching a talented musician, or a professional athlete: years of practice make their difficult feats seem as ordinary as breathing.
Here were a few things I learned about writing in general -- and writing comedy in particular.
Take a stand. I heard a Richard Pryor quote while I was writing PRANK THE MONKEY. "Don't try to be funny," the famous comedian once said, "just try to be interesting." That's good advice for any comic, but especially for humor authors. Take a stand, develop a point of view, and the jokes come much more easily. It frees you from trying to be funny -- because everyone knows there's nothing more annoying than the person trying too hard to be funny. Which is why I'm not trying at all right now. And therefore I am succeeding gloriously.
Develop realistic expectations. Written comedy, I am convinced, is the most difficult form of comedy. With standup, you've got a crowd of drunken people all reinforcing each other's laughter. With writing, it's just you and the reader, one on one. If you can get a quick snort of air through the nose (the "booger blow"), you're doing pretty well. An honest LOL from a book -- just ink on a page! -- is a feat nothing short of miraculous.
The exception to the rule, of course, is when you're reading a humor book somewhere you're forbidden to laugh: church, a crowded airplane, or a Special Olympics swim meet. If I had my way, my book would be banned everywhere except funerals and public executions. My material would fucking kill there.
Which brings me to the issue of swearing.
Swear with care. Perhaps because I was raised in a conservative Christian family, I still have deep reservations about using "blue" material in my comedy. You can make the case that some of our most brilliant comic minds (Jerry Seinfeld, Bill Cosby, Steve Allen) never worked blue, and this is proof of their comedic powers: they didn't need to rely on the shock value of swearing. But then you look at Chris Rock, George Carlin, Lenny Bruce: can you really make the claim that these were hack comedians who used swearing as a crutch?
My view is that swearing is a crutch: it's a shortcut to laughter. But what's wrong with crutches? Are you saying you hate cripples now? Without all the crutches of the English language (clichés, quotes, handicapped jokes), everyone would have to write like friggin' Shakespeare. I'll take the crutch any day of the week, because I'm not that funny.
But still, I tried to cuss thoughtfully. I purposely avoided swearing until well into Chapter 3, by which time I figured people had pretty much made up their mind whether they liked the book or not. I also tried to resort to a swear only when I thought it added a chuckle. Or, as I now call it, a "fuckle."
Be fearless. I came to a realization while writing PRANK THE MONKEY: reading is a much more intimate experience than other forms of media consumption. When you watch a movie or TV, you're usually sharing that experience with others. With a book or blog, it's just you and the author. It's a conversation. This is why, I think, that people are more tolerant of risqué content in a book than they would be in a movie or on TV. Consider that there is no parental rating system for books, and that some major bookstore chains sell hardcore erotica (the literary equivalent of an X-rated movie) right out in the open. (It's under "A," by the way, for "Anonymous.")
This peculiarity of the printed page is what allows authors to be far more daring than, say, a TV writer. Readers are pretty jaded, and it's difficult to come up with something that truly makes people sit up and take notice. No matter how far you think you're going with your writing, you're probably only barely making a dent in their thinking. Be fearless. Dive deep. Get crazy.
Write what makes you laugh. None of this addresses the matter of how I came to include a four-page spread of illustrated hardcore pornography in PRANK THE MONKEY. What can I say? I thought it was funny. In my defense, it's not pornography, it's unipornography. It's sexytime involving mythological creatures.
My test readers were not so hot on the uniporn idea, but at the end of the day, you have to trust your instincts on what's funny. You can't guess what will make anyone else laugh. Brilliantly rendered by my indispensable illustrator Al Natanagara, I still crack up when I read the uniporn bit: it's so ridiculously over-the-top and unnecessary, especially when read in context of the chapter, that it was the flagrant exception to my "no gratuitous profanity" rule. It was completely gratuitous.
Sadly, however, I can't let my kids anywhere near my book now. Otherwise I'll be fielding questions for a week. "Daddy, what are these animals doing?" "Daddy, what's an orgy?" "Daddy, why is the fairy stuck in the horse's butt?"
Develop a routine. Since I work a day job, like most writers, here is the writing process I used for PRANK THE MONKEY: I would wake up each day at 6:00 am, write for about an hour, then go to work. I'm fortunate to commute by train, so that gave me another 20 minutes in the morning and evening. Then after the family went to bed, I would typically write from 9:00 to 11:00 pm. Getting in that rhythm, churning out the words even when I didn't "feel like it," really helped me get the thing finished. It also helped drive me to a nervous breakdown. Won the book, lost the mind.
Mix it up. You always need to try new things to keep the work fresh. I tried something different with PRANK THE MONKEY: I listened to hard rock while writing the entire book. Usually when I write for ZUG, I do it in complete silence. But I wanted the book to have a badass edge about it, and I remembered an interview with Neal Stephenson about writing Snow Crash, one of my favorite science fiction novels. He said that he wrote that book in Seattle at the height of the grunge era, and was constantly listening to Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Stone Temple Pilots while writing it. That music really comes through in the book: you can hear that energy in every dark encounter and chase scene. My music, thankfully, was a little more up-to-date (Audioslave).
"Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement; then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster, and fling him out to the public."
Please, for the love of God, don't use quotes. I hate that technique of inserting artsy-fartsy quotes throughout your book, quotes that are only marginally relevant to the topic at hand. The thing that makes me proudest about PRANK THE MONKEY is that I did not use any lame-ass quotes throughout the text. No quotes from Socrates or the Bhagavad Gita to start out every chapter. I hate that shit.
Marry my wife. I can't say enough about my wife, and how supportive she is of my "work." Those long days are a real sacrifice, and having the support of a spouse or partner is essential. In fact, the most difficult part of the book to write was the thank you to Jade at the very end of PRANK THE MONKEY. I just can't put into words how important she is to me, or to my writing. And no, you can't marry her. Get your own.
So like Winston Churchill, I had now killed my monster, and was preparing to fling him to the public. But first the monster had to be tattooed by my incomparable illustrator Al Natanagara. My tribute to this mad graphical genius is coming up next.
Next: Uncle Al!