Sweet Tooth - My New Favorite Online Time-Wasting Activity

I could sit and read these for hours.
Literally.
Hours.

Teachable Moment - "Recognizing" Humor

I've been researching ways to teach humor to my creative nonfiction students, as this is by far the hardest unit to really pin down, I've found. So, like always, I try to just Google my way to something curious, a way to spark my own inner teaching muse. I like to think if they can find cool stuff on Google, so can I. Why not show them the best of the web, when appropriate.

So after a crystal-ball-type-search of "Why is humor individual?" I came across this astoundingly logic-based blog posting. It reads like one of those really great Newsweek articles that you find wedged between all the horrors of politics and the economy. A spark of something truly, intellectually brilliant, in a shiny-magazine-article-packaging way: humor can be understood as a cognitive act, i.e. we've sorta figured out how the brain recognizes this thing called humor. The first paragraph as an amuse bouche:

"The theory is an evolutionary and cognitive explanation of how and why any individual finds anything funny. Effectively it explains that humour occurs when the brain recognizes a pattern that surprises it, and that recognition of this sort is rewarded with the experience of the humorous response, an element of which is broadcast as laughter."

Humor is based on patterns. When I recognize something (it is now a pattern, having occurred more than once), it makes me laugh as a reward for being observant. I notice something "funny" about my hubby--his fly is unzipped, let's say--I laugh because I recognize that it should be up, not down. The pattern of zipped flies is broken by this oddity; I get a laugh at his expense because, hey, I noticed it first. This type of humor, I can only imagine, strengthens when the actual "oddity experience" becomes a pattern. So, when I notice my hubby's fly unzipped the fourth time this week, it's EXCEPTIONALLY funny, because a) I recognize that it should be up, generally, and b) I recognize that he does this all the time. Double Bonus Humor.

The article does say the humor of patterned content IS debateable though, since "no content can be inherently more or less funny than any other. It's all about the person looking on the scene, since "[t]he individual is of paramount importance in determining what they find amusing, bringing memories, associations, meta-meaning, disposition, their tendency to recognize patterns and their comprehension of similarity to the equation."

What I'm really interested in, though, is trying to push my students to understand this by looking at two humorous essays of completely different styles and subjects. When I have taught these two essays together (in the past), students invariably have one that they like better. Why?, I ask. They usually can't explain, and if I try to do the same it ends up begin more about technique than an actual preference. (Thus the curse of the lit major. We can't just read an essay, we deconstruct it, right?) I'm happy with just figuring out what we like in these, but as we move toward actually writing humorous pieces of their own, I want a stronger arsenal of suggestions.

I'm thinking/hoping to use this article as a springboard to help them deconstruct their favorite scene (after an interim away from the piece) and see what patterns might exist. Then, to move forward, I'll ask them to think about patterning something that the reader can associate with, as a way to better their chances for being humorous. I'll tie this to a freewrite they'll have just done on "life's irritations" or "obsessions & phobias" and I'm hoping, convince them to make these seemingly inconsequential subjects "ring true" in the minds of the readers. It should make them laugh every time, right...at least that's what all the latest research shows. : )

Two Words (ok Ed, three!) - (You) Read This!

Perusing the web for an article on active and passive voice usage in business communication (for my professional writing students) I stumbled across Ed Barr's really great blog.

My favorite recent posting is entitled "You only need two words."

I think this concept of "concision as emphasis" is fabulous for professional writing students, and in some ways can be a basis for creative writing as well. It's not always about how much detail you can add. It's not the fancy words or the beautifully extended metaphor. Often the most profound messages stand out simply because of their, well, simplicity.

To me, these statements share another commonality, (which I've fixated on since I just prepared a lecture about sentence structure). These two-word sentences only include a subject and a verb. An object is not included, not necessary. These sentences focus on the action of a single entity, and declare a type of singularity. One person, one action, one moment, one impact. These sentences expand emotionally because they define only a single point out there somewhere. It is the reader's responsibility, then, to position herself in regards to the sentence. "How does this change me, now?" she might ask. What has ultimately been accomplished, then, is a sentence that necessarily engages the reader by not dictating how she must relate to that new information. Relationships are made, but they are more profound since the reader is part of the process. She understands.

Out of Sight, but Still Shaping...

Ack! I've been on end-of-semester-grading hiatus and have totally spaced on my blog. Since I'm also about to run out the door yet again, I thought I'd give you all an interesting link. I found another Sales Machine post that just reiterates what I've been teaching in ENG 301 - Writing for the Professions for the past few years. You have to think about your audience--what they know and what they want--and give them a message that's clear, concise, and somehow unique at the same time. In other words, write something that's momentarily evocative, then shut up. Sounds like a good flash fictions piece, doesn't it? Enjoy!

How to Write a Killer Sales Message

Sweet Tooth - Writing Spaces

Today's undeniably interesting, delicious tidbit comes from the blogosphere.

I found a great blog posting from one of my former colleagues, and I think you'll enjoy it too. The subject is where writers write, and I've always had a great interest in how people "keep house," so to speak, especially where they feel they are the most creative. In a nod to including a photo of her writing space, I've included a shot of mine too.

(And as perhaps a completely circuitous reference, my colleague is responsible for the collaborative arts project on the wall, top left.)

So let's be bold. I invite you to photograph a space in which you feel creative. Perhaps some day I'll dare to show a shot of my 70s remodel kitchen, but I'm hoping we'll have the funds to remodel long before I ever have to share that cave. LOL.