One of my resolutions for 2021 was to laugh more.
At least more than I did in 2020, which shouldn’t be challenging because the pandemic kind of sucked all the joy and laughter right out of me.
Since I’m writing a series of romantic comedies this year, it shouldn’t be hard to laugh more, though, right?
You’d think so.
When I started to try and write comedy late last year, I quickly determined that what makes me laugh often isn’t the same as what makes others laugh.
My husband, for instance, laughs at the stupidest things. Seriously he laughs at things that are just dumb.
Farts.
Long, drawn-out burps.
Dad jokes.
Usually, what he finds hilarious, I find myself just rolling my eyes at or, at best, groaning over.
And it’s not just him.
This past weekend I was on a Zoom call with a group of people I’ve known for a long time. Somewhere during the conversation, they all started swapping puns. Some of the group thought they were hilarious and witty. Others, mostly the spouses on the call who weren’t part of the group of us who were swapping puns back in high school, just rolled their eyes.
I get it. To find some of these puns funny, you had to have been there.
Lived the time.
But that still leaves me asking, what makes something funny?
According to Ben Healy in The Atlantic, “something is humorous if people cognitively appraise it as funny, if it creates ‘the positive emotion of amusement,’ or if it produces laughter.”
Is that all?
It might be, but it’s not going to help me write a funnier book nor add more laughter to my days.
So, welcome to my blog.
In this space in 2021, I’m going to share what I’m writing about, what I find funny, and use this platform to try and figure out how to help everyone laugh more in 2021.
Let’s see how I do.
Onward.
