Make 'em laugh

[pjthompson]

I was having a conversation earlier with a close friend about schoolyard trauma—the name-calling and taunting so common in the proto-teen and teenage years—and I explained to her that I learned early on that humor could be my great shield against the worst of it. I was a freak, you see. I had an early growth spurt, so I was 5’3” by the time I was 9, 5’6” by the time I was 11 or so. I topped out at 5’7” in high school but by that time most of my contemporaries had either caught up with me or surpassed me. However, those early growth years—and my red hair—made me stand out. Anyone who stands out in elementary school, who is in any way not average, is going to come in for abuse. Fortunately, my size helped me avoid the physical side of that, but that was not the case with verbal abuse. So I developed a wicked sharp tongue.

I grew up in the Oakwood section of Venice, California. Back in the olden days, it was a poor section of Los Angeles, and quite diverse ethnically. There were some white kids at my school, but mostly not, and I only ever had one close white friend before junior high. Everybody supported each other, though, helped each other out. Oh, I won’t paint a pie in the sky portrait here. It may have been a Rainbow Coalition, but kids being kids, there were fights, and playground posturing. and tough talk. I learned early on the advantages of having a sharp tongue and have spent most of my life trying to overcome those early habits (mostly successfully, but it’s surprising how that schoolyard bad mouth can surface out of nowhere). Even back then I laced the tough talk with humor. If I could make the other kids laugh at my adversary they were more likely to leave me alone. I was raised by a mother with her own wicked sense of humor, so I had a good example set before me.

As I transitioned from the tough neighborhood to the more mixed environment of junior high (ages 12 to 14)—middle class and even some upper middle class mixed with the tough kids—I discovered even more the benefits of humor. I’m an introvert, but I learned to be something of a class clown. If I could fake extroversion and hold up that shield of laughter—laughter not directed at the cost of someone else—they were less likely to pick on me. And if any of the mean girls got catty, others would sometimes counter it with, “She’s funny. Leave her alone.”

I’ve carried that shield with me most of my life. It’s such a fundamental part of my nature I couldn’t let it go even if I wanted to—and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be mean, I don’t want to be sharp-tongued, but I find it infinitely healthier to keep a well-trained eye out for the absurdities of life and of people. Naturally, this creeps into my fiction. I’ve written both comic and serious stories and novels, but even my most serious novels are well-laced with humor. Sometimes it’s character-driven, sometimes it’s, well, frankly bordering on slapstick. I just can’t leave aside those absurdities. They are everywhere I look.

I don’t think they undercut the more serious passages of my writing, but I’m inside my own head and may not have an objective eye there. I cut out some of the humor in rewrites, but not all. The few times I’ve tried to cut it all I’ve wound up eviscerating the life from my stories. It’s my style, you see. It takes a long time for a writer—I guess any artist—to find the style that is uniquely their own.

So it’s best not to look a gift Muse in the mouth. Sharp tongue or not.

 

Comments

[sartorias]

Nodding: I discovere sarcasm as a weapon during the bullying years of jr high and high school.. It took a long time, a very long time, to try to mitigate that.

But I needs me some humor in my reading oh yes I do!

[pjthompson]

Yes, it would be dry and boring without a laugh or two. 😊

[rimturse]

I never knew you were a redhead. Love that colour. :)

... and yes, I think a good sense of humour, and the ability to also be able to laugh at yourself, can go a long way in many situations. And yes, I do think, our early childhood and our personality moulds us as writers. I remember when I switched schools at 11-12 years old, I became more the funny kid than the weird kid.

I've always stood out like a sore thumb in school, like a friend from back then said to me a few years ago, "You were always such a weird child", but I was never bullied, not even when standing up for the bullied kids. Maybe because I was always good at reading the mind-games and acting accordingly, due to my dysfunctional home-life. I do remember one time, though, where a girl from my class subtly tried to put me down. It took me completely off-guard because I'd always considered us to be friends and she'd always been really sweet. I hit her with a smile and me at my most self-confident, and she backed off.

For some 30-40 years after that, I chalked it up to me having misread the situation, but then my bullied friend whom I used to stand up for, paid me a visit, and we got to talk about the "good" old days, which hadn't been good at all for him, and he told me that that girl had been the worst after I moved away, and that she drove him close to suicide by constantly telling him the most horrible things, including the "Why don't you just kill yourself". He's long since forgiven her, but I find it incredibly difficult to let go. I can barely wish her a happy birthday on Facebook, and truth be told, I'm only doing it because my friends it doing it, thinking if he can do it, then so can I, right?

[pjthompson]

I never knew you were a redhead. Love that colour. :)

Over time I went from strawberry blonde to auburn. Now, it's a combination of auburn, grey streaks, and grey streaks with a blondish cast. Red hair sometimes does that, turning blonde-grey instead of true grey—but mine can't make up its mind.

that girl had been the worst after I moved away, and that she drove him close to suicide by constantly telling him the most horrible things, including the "Why don't you just kill yourself"

A sociopath. Truly. You really can't put that kind of behavior down to "kids being kids." She was bent then and I'll bet she's still bent. And your friend is a better person than I am. I would have cut her dead.

[rimturse]

Your hair sounds beautiful. My cousin is a redhead. It was a lovely bright copper when she was younger, but she didn't like the colour and started dying it when she got older. I know she's greying now, but she keeps up the dying, so I have no clue what her natural colour looks like now.

And yes, I do believe you have to be a certain kind of person to be that kind of nasty.