Writing for fun, funny and a little profit
How one humor writer went from 0 to 30+ published bylines in just one year – and how you can, too.
Sometimes it’s hard to understand why anyone would want to be a writer. As journalist and screenwriter Gene Fowler once said, “Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”
Or, as novelist Paulo Coelho once wrote: “Writing is a socially acceptable form of being naked in public.”
OK, I don’t like being naked in public. But I do have a passion for humor writing, and recently, I’ve started publishing my work. In the past, I was always writing funny bits for family and friends. I found outlets for my humor as a marketing and communications executive. I wrote everything from press releases and community magazine articles to awards ceremony speeches and ad copy. I crafted fake ads that never saw the light of day, parody commercials created from outtakes, satirical awards, and retirement speeches as well as funny out-of-office replies. Frankly, I was surprised that human resources didn’t send me a pink slip. But clearly, humor was my métier.
Eventually, I started writing general, satirical pieces about things I found funny. Grocery shopping on Thanksgiving Eve, summer camp for adults, kids’ homework assignments, a family trip to an eco-lodge in Costa Rica. These essays became the basis for a satirical holiday newsletter – and when people I didn’t even know started asking to be put on our family’s holiday newsletter mailing list, I started taking myself seriously.
“The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of your pants to the seat of the chair.” – Mary Heaton Vorse, American journalist
I spent a lot of time with the seat of my pants in the seat of my chair. But that didn’t mean I was writing anything. After the pandemic set in, and I finished binge-watching Tiger King, The Great British Baking Show, and Schitt’s Creek, I went down more rabbit holes than Bugs Bunny.
The internet is my procrastination of choice. In mere minutes, you (I) can go from reading a thought-provoking, well-written article about the human condition to clickbait about Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker channeling vampires in their blood-sucking new selfie. Not to mention laundry, petting the cat, snacks, scrolling Instagram, and playing solitaire.
It’s also a great tool, not just for correcting grammar and typos (which you should always check before submitting, trust me) but for research. I have looked up everything from how many cicadas make up 4 pounds to how much blood was used to film the elevator scene in The Shining (Between 200-300 gallons, in case it comes up in any party conversation or trivia contest). But you shouldn’t use “researching a piece” as an excuse for not putting finger to keyboard and actually writing.
I had surfed around before the pandemic and thought it might be fun to take a class from The Groundlings or Second City. I had subscribed to receive notifications about upcoming classes but had always resisted enrolling. The thought of fighting traffic to get to class wasn’t appealing and, quite frankly, I was intimidated at the thought of actually having to put my work up against other, probably funnier writers.
Then I got a notification from the Groundlings about a virtual class. The class, about creating memorable characters, was being taught by actors Ben Falcone and Melissa McCarthy. The cost was minimal. I signed up.
That class was magic. It was fun, funny, and interactive. Of course, we strayed from the curriculum, but I didn’t care. I was learning little tidbits about creating characters and having fun.
After that first class, I went back to both the Groundlings and Second City websites and discovered that both companies were now offering online classes. I immediately signed up for Writing Satire for the Internet, Level 1 with Second City.
“Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.” – Mark Twain
If you want to learn which words are the wrong words, take an online class. My online classes were taught by instructors who, themselves, are published writers, still submitting work, so the old adage that “those who can, do; those who can’t, teach” goes by the wayside. We were introduced to blog sites and online satire publishers that were open for submissions. We also heard from guest lecturers who had been featured in places like The New Yorker, The Onion, and McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, the “Holy Grails” for satire writers.
The best thing about online classes is their accessibility. For the classes I took, lectures were posted online every Saturday. You had the flexibility to read or view the lesson at your convenience, which made it perfect for those who had day jobs or needed long naps. You could go back and review classes at any time. Classes were small, usually around 12 to 15 students, and lasted from four to six weeks. You got to know your fellow classmates, even though you were all working “remotely.” Because many of these classes are ‘on-demand,’ you’re not on webcam: You can wear sweatpants. Or nothing at all. Also, the instructors I had were happy to answer questions; some even offered “office hours” for their students.
The second-best thing is the homework, which was given each week and due by the end of that week. We were expected to upload our completed writing assignments as if we were submitting to real online publications and required to provide feedback on our fellow students’ pieces. In addition, we developed an online resume, brief bio (to attach to our published pieces), and a website where we could showcase our work. We were also asked to develop a list of titles for future pieces, so we would never be at a loss for topics.
This was great: Instead of sitting back listening to someone pontificate while I played Fishdom on my phone, I actually had to write! Needing to have something to submit and having to critique others’ work was a great incentive, and I could have that first (or second) shot of tequila as a reward when I completed my assignment.
The class feedback is invaluable. I wasn’t surprised by the incredible work of my fellow students, but I was thrilled they thought my work was pretty good, too. A note about that: We were all instructed to maintain a safe space and always lead with what we liked about a piece. We were not to be mean or to provide advice that was unsolicited; we were merely to comment on what was working for us, what wasn’t, and what the writer might consider to improve their piece. In all classes, we were encouraged to rewrite our pieces, taking in the feedback from both our fellow classmates as well as from the teachers themselves.
While some classes can be expensive, there’s usually a discount offered, either by applying a code or paying early. In some cases, you can pay over time or apply for scholarships. I found most online classes to be reasonably priced; from $25 for a single seminar to $195 for 4-6 week classes. If a particular class was too expensive, I looked for similar courses online that were cheaper or free. Google what you’re looking for (i.e., “satire writing classes” or “novel writing classes”) and see what comes up.
Emboldened, I branched out. I took more advanced classes from Second City. I signed up for the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, Story Summit’s Writing for the Hallmark Channel, and a novel writing workshop from Authors Publish. All were virtual. While these were a little more expensive, all offered some sort of discount to all students (by enrolling early or applying a discount code), the ability to review recorded sessions at my leisure, and opportunities to pitch, submit, or connect my work with agents, publishers’ reps or groups of writers in my genre.
In classes, you start to connect with people who are just as enthusiastic as you are about writing humor and writing it well. Even though we were scattered across the country and from different backgrounds and age groups, we developed a camaraderie that continues all these months later. We follow each other on social media and welcome emails asking us to critique one another’s work. We also let each other know about fun classes to take, calls for content, and new sites open for submission. Being connected is a great way to network and navigate the publishing world.
“If you write one story, it may be bad. If you write a hundred, you have the odds in your favor.” – Edgar Rice Burroughs
If you write 100 stories, you’re going to have trouble keeping track of them. No editor wants to re-read something they’ve rejected before. And you’re going to want to showcase your work so that others can find and follow you.
You can spend hours creating spreadsheets (procrastination, remember?), or you can use online tracking sites. I use Submittable.com. While it bills itself as a “social impact platform,” the majority of journals and sites use it as a means of attracting, reading, and culling submissions. Duotrope is another site many use to find publications and track submissions. Although it operates on a subscription model, it also offers free trials for new users.
It’s also wise to have a website as well as stay connected on social media, so you can notify readers when you get published and keep track of what fellow writers are publishing. If you don’t have a savvy computer friend willing to be paid in free meals, there are several online tutorials and resources you can use to establish a social presence and website to showcase your work. Many of these are free or at minimal cost. One site to consider is Medium.com, a free blog host platform. You’ll have your own author page for your work, both draft and published, and can use that link when submitting to Medium publications (Slackjaw or Crow’s Feet, for example). You can publish whatever you want, whenever you want, and Medium can help you curate your pieces to select audiences who share your interests. By becoming a part of Medium’s Partner Program (which is free), you can also elect to earn money when Medium members read your work.
“The dubious privilege of a freelance writer is he’s given the freedom to starve anywhere.” – S.J. Perelman
After agonizing for weeks and nit-picking words in my first short assignments, my class instructor finally said, “Send it in, already!” (She was actually really nice about it.) Those first two pieces – one written on a whim while waiting for my car to be serviced at the dealership – were soon published in Points In Case.
While I’m conditioned to anticipate rejection (hence tequila), you should really be prepared for acceptance. Because once you finish doing the Snoopy Happy Dance, you’re going to need to have something else to submit. And that’s a good thing!
In a little over a year, I published 32 short, satirical essays on several online sites. A video I submitted to John Krasinski’s Some Good News was featured on his internet show with play-by-play from Fox sportscaster Joe Buck. More than 6 million people viewed it. In addition to penning comedy, I’m now considering writing a novel.
While I’ve been incredibly lucky, it’s the hard-working and tenacious writer who will make a living. Through the Medium partner program, I’ve made $18.42. Hey, I can buy two Venti Caramel Macchiatos, one ham and cheese savory foldover, and a blueberry scone from Starbucks and still have change for the parking meter.
But I’m having fun and discovering new opportunities. And if this story gets published, maybe I’ll be able to buy some new sweatpants