No, Seriously, Make Me Laugh

(Short Imagined Monologue)

Many people doubt their ability to write something funny, but in my experience a humorous piece of writing lies within the grasp of every sentient being, with the possible exception of a couple people I won’t name (but you can probably guess the type).

At its heart, humor relies on incongruity, the juxtaposition of two (or more) things that don’t seem to belong together. In combination, these elements create a kind of friction or disturbance or tension, the resolution of which results in laughter. Think of the mean tweets from Jimmy Kimmel’s show, where celebrities read the meanest things others have said about them on Twitter, or the silly walk sketch from Monty Python, where a British government bureaucrat is the head of the Ministry of Silly Walks, and the performance of these silly walks is done inside a stuffy, government office. (If you don’t know these things, take a minute to find and watch them.)

To write something funny, you don’t need to be funny; you just need to create a humorous juxtaposition and let the scenario dictate the rest. To help you achieve this, you’ll work inside a particular form called the “short imagined monologue.”

The short imagined monologue is not unique to the McSweeney’s Internet Tendency website, but it contains an excellent collection of examples of the form. (To see these, search for “McSweeney’s short imagined monologue” and you will see them at the top of the results.)

Some example titles include:

“My Life Might Look Great on Instagram, But Deep Down I’m Actually a Ciranolid Isopod”

“You’re Damn Right I’m Comfortable Performing These Exit Row Duties”

“A Bear Explains How to Survive a Bear Attack”

“Covering Teen Wolf: One Coach’s Guide”

“Morgan Freeman Buys a Pop-A-Shot Machine”

“Cookie Monster Searches Deep Within Himself and Asks: Is Me Really Monster?”

Just from the titles, we can immediately appreciate the juxtapositions. Instagram is well known for people trying to present a glamorous facade to the world while obscuring the deeper underlying reality. In this case, the reality is not only that life is not as glamorous as an Instagram account makes it out to be, but the account holder also happens to be a member of the crustacean family.

Enthusiasm for sitting in the exit row seems odd, and Morgan Freeman is more known for lending his baritone to important and dramatic narration, not something as mundane as buying a game you find in tricked-out basements and sports bars.

Your goal is to find a juxtaposition and execute a monologue that induces a humorous response from your audience.

AUDIENCE

You are writing for people looking for short, diverting entertainment. They are the type of people who are surfing through Facebook or Twitter, have their attention briefly captured by something, click on the link, and then ingest the experience. You want to hook them and keep them hooked for the duration of your monologue.

PROCESS

1. Identify the juxtaposition.

Through brainstorming, simply let your mind free to consider odd and unexpected things. You can start with something mundane (like sitting in an exit row on a plane), and then find an odd juxtaposition (enthusiasm), or do the opposite and think of something or someone interesting (Morgan Freeman) doing something mundane and out of character (buying a Pop-A-Shot machine).

Many good juxtapositions are born from asking, “What if?” What if Teen Wolf were real and not a movie in which a boy turns into a wolf and for some reason is allowed to play high school basketball? Let your mind wander and be inspired. For example, just as I was typing this I thought about Teen Wolf and basketball and my brain went like this:

Teen Wolf, basketball, animals playing basketball, Air Bud (a movie in which a golden retriever plays basketball), do something with Air Bud—what if the dog was caught doing performance-enhancing drugs?

Do I know if that will ultimately pan out into something funny? I do not, but it might, and that’s the place to start.

2. Develop the juxtaposition.

Once you have what seems to be a promising juxtaposition, spend some time brainstorming like I did above. What can I do with performance-enhancing drugs and a golden retriever?

What performance would be enhanced? What are golden retrievers know for? Cuteness and friendliness? What if the dog’s performance-enhancing drugs made him too cute or too friendly? Maybe he was caught because he grew excess hair and had a terrible shedding problem? What would that look like? What would he do? How would other people react to him?

As you develop your juxtaposition, often a little story or narrative will emerge. The juxtaposition puts something in motion that has structure, moving toward some kind of resolution. Maybe the dog is apologizing or announcing his retirement because he’s been caught. I don’t know—I’m still just thinking here. Keep thinking of these little bits until you feel like you have some moments for the story.

3. Draft your monologue.

Remember that a monologue is a direct address from a specific speaker, so here is where you want to find a voice for your character. What would a drug-abusing, basketball-playing dog sound like? Would it be funnier to have him sound goofy and frantic or better for him to be subdued and serious, like an entitled basketball star, adding an additional potentially humorous juxtaposition? Maybe I should combine a serious tone with barks and growls.

Look at some of the examples and see how the voice is handled. One of the funniest parts of the Cookie Monster monologue is how beautifully the author (Andy Bryan) captures Cookie Monster’s voice, even in the title: “Is Me Really Monster?” Most of us have such a strong visual image of Cookie Monster, and because the voice is so good, that image is conjured entirely through words. That’s an amazing feat.

4. Refine your monologue.

Here is where precision of language and specific word choice will be key. If you’ve done the joke-writing experience, you know how much finding just the right word matters. To really polish something like this may take days. Spend just a little time on it each day, honing the piece, then letting it sit before coming back to it later. You don’t want to just hammer away at it for hours on end. Let your brain refresh itself so you come at it with fresh eyes.

One tip is to read the monologue out loud to yourself. A monologue is meant to reflect something spoken, so reciting it will help you hear any awkward spots that need fixing.

5. Title your monologue.

As you can see from the examples, the title plays a huge part in the success of the monologue. It should both set the premise and intrigue the audience so they want to see what’s inside. It doesn’t need to be LOL itself, but it should induce an anticipatory feeling that laughs are ahead.

6. Test your monologue.

How you test your monologue is up to you. You could try submitting it to McSweeney’s or the “Shouts & Murmurs” section of the New Yorker, or posting it on social media.

The only way to truly test if something is funny is to trot it out for an audience and see if they laugh. This can be emotionally fraught, but if you connect, it is very fun and satisfying.

REFLECT

This sort of writing requires a very intensive process, particularly in revision. Did you notice how helpful it was to read the work out loud? This is a good strategy for just about any piece of writing, as it helps you slow down your reading and really concentrate on the effect you’re having on the audience. If nothing else, it will help you correct small errors that our eyes are likely to gloss over when only reading on-screen or on the page.

REMIX

If you’re feeling confident and brave, look for a public forum like an open-mic or comedy showcase where you can read or perform your monologue. If you don’t want to be quite that public, do it for a group of friends or family. Before delivering the monologue, practice it by reading it out loud and considering where pauses or emphasis might serve your comedic purposes.