Why?

It’s a desperate attempt to reach the 100 subscriber mark. I’ve done all the usual things — sky diving without a parachute, bungee jumping without a bungee cord, and once I’d left hospital, eaten chips without a packet.

None of this paid off — so I resorted to stealing, which if I recall, nestles nicely above self actualization in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

So what’s the story? It’s a big one. It’s that I’ve made $41 dollars with 36 followers.

It took, not courage or guts, but chutzpah. I’m not sure what that is, but I ran away from the toilet and straight to my phone.

My underpants still clean, I had to make a call.

The Spanish mafia had already asked me not to contact them, so I tried the Germans. No answer. Next, I called the Italian branch. They were out too — opera night. I tried the US branch next, and they’ve all retired.

I was ready to throw in the towel, when I decided on one final call. Except, someone beat me to it. The Portuguese mafia was on the line. They owed me one (I’d once saved their chief’s 8 page original manuscript from a fire. It’s a long story.)

The upshot is they very gladly gave me the name of Medium’s CEO. I’ll call them them Stubblestash, to preserve my plagiarism.

Fake-ipedia shows Tony Stubblestash as the CEO of the company. I wanted monetization without 100 subscribers. This guy was the man to call. Not a lower down software engineer who’d more readily take a bribe.

Below is the phone call to the CEO (it’s where I steal someone else’s ideas word for word. Don’t worry, I won’t credit them later on):

M: Me

T: Tony Stubblestash (Medium CEO)

—

M: Hello, Tony.

T: Hello. Who is this?

M: This isn’t going to work.

T: That’s very defeatist.

M: If I end the call now, you can’t reject me.

T: *hangs up*

—

That got me going. I can’t believe someone with far more wealth, much better looking, and no time to deal with idiots decided to do that. If he’d been in the same room with me to start with, I wouldn’t have even made the call.

I would have spoken to him normally.

That’s how angry I was. To have considered a pleasant conversation.

For some reason, known only to the original author of this story, Tony Stubblestash’s office is in Spain. Since I was conveniently in the country, even though I live 2,000 miles away and haven’t traveled abroad in years, I decided to visit Stubblestash.

The office is in Madrid, specifically 19 Paellas Street (this part’s my own idea). It was the height of luxury and something reminded me of John. There was an enormous poster of ex Chelsea defender John Terry stuck on a near bridge.

I knocked on the office door and shouted. It creaked open and a dark skinned man peeped out. In English, I asked for Stubblestash. In perfect English, he said, “Sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”

With no time to reply, he closed the door and I stared downcast, downwards, down at the ground below my feet, but above the earth’s core. Then I looked up. There was a large notice in the window I hadn’t seen before.

STUBBLESTASH RETURNS IN TWO WEEKS

It was a good thing I brought my sleeping bag in my backpack, because the hotel where I was staying was just across the street. So I went back and chilled out. I visited the sites and had a great fortnight.

Then, after two weeks of hardship, I returned to Stubblestash’s office.

I was let in, we had a chat about my Medium account. He said he didn’t have the power to make any decisions for the company, and being only a lowly CEO, it made sense. I accepted his charity of $41 which he let me struggle for 5 hours to release from a broken vending machine, and headed home.

The end.

Is this Jack Thompson’s finest piece? You decide, because the ideas certainly aren’t his.

Author’s note

I hope you enjoyed this original effort. If you want to see where someone copied my idea by posting before me, check out:

https://amaliaa.medium.com/

1. Click follow

That button to follow other people’s pages. Click it relentlessly. You want to go somewhere close to the daily limit, but not too close. Medium is watching. They might suspend your account. Get away with it and the re-follows will boost your own follower count fast. It’s the best way to grow your audience organically.

2. Write a little bit on everything

3. Plagiarize relentlessly

Not sure what to write? Simply copy other people’s material. Don’t feel guilty about this. Take it from me, I do it all the time. To clear your conscience, the best thing you can do is pass off other people’s work as your own.

4. Write when drunk.

Mainstream advice claims alcoholism kills creativity. But those saying this are sober, teetotal, straight edges. They never drink and don’t know how well it lubricates the writing machine. By the time I’ve finished this piece, I’ve gone from typing at my desk to bashing my keyboard at the pub sink.

5. Keep writing

It doesn’t matter if you feel like writing or don’t, simply make yourself. Keep pressing the keys and let the drivel flow. Use your elbows if you have to. Just keep going. It really liberates the soul when all you can produce is nonsense. If that’s you, you’re writing like you’re supposed to. Remember, that 1k payment will arrive any day. Just keep waiting. It will come.

6. Keep a journal

Write daily notes in a little book to inspire your creativity. In mine it says I ate toast this morning and had a shower, walked 3 miles then typed an article on Medium. Went to bed. Life doesn’t get any more inspiring.

Always revise your wok

The first draft is full of mistakes. By going back and polishing your turd people won’t get put off by the smell. Cover it in paper and flush hard. When the thing’s blocked you’ve done your job.

7. Keep count of anything

That means sheep before going to sleep, number of days until/since Christmas. How many seconds in an hour and how much faster than the speed limit you’re doing right now. When you leave the road, how many meters you traveled. How big the indentation is in the ground. The amount of damage to the family car. Days until divorce.

9. Social Media

Always have a social media presence to lure in an audience. Pay people for photos to make it look like you’ve gone to exotic locations and pretend you have 8 cars in your drive. You live in a mansion online, so brag about it constantly. The key here is complete honesty, so give it to people by lying.

10. Work on your voice

The best way is through ChatGPT. Ask questions and wait a few seconds for the answers. Copy and paste them with minimal changes — if you feel hard working. Otherwise, copy verbatim and this is you. It was your question after all, so you own the answer, and by extension, the way it’s written.

BONUS

11. Remember your worth

Just like everyone else on this site, you’re surplus to requirements. Knowing this helps keep you grounded. It stops your ego spiraling out of control. I meditate on it everyday, as well as the mantra that I’m completely worthless. To this point, I’ve achieved nothing in my life. You can be the same.

Now go out there and make Medium pond.

This article was written by Jack Thompson. He’s one of the premium writers on the site. Being as prized as he is, he doesn’t post often.

Welcome to the first book I’ve looked at on the subject of writing lyrics.

The foreword gets you in. At barely two pages long, it’s like the rest of this book — to the point. Brief intro done, chapter one starts straight away.

On page thirteen.

You’re shown what areas to probe for song ideas. You’ll get the Ws — Who, What, Where, When and Web. Can I find something more exciting to read?

Not really.

This book’s quick fire, so unlikely to bore, while the Who and Why are used to enhance song possibilities.

This goes further, with a good number of ideas explored across a short number of pages.

Pollock takes you through rhyming, and what to write. It’s an adult topic, so I used my adult hands to grab my copy and pick off the 3+ sticker.

To work through ideas, he advises you to roll them around near the front of your nose, like lottery balls.

What is this guy on about? Let’s see. First number — 9. Second number — 11. Call out to a badly injured nasal cavity.

Careful with some of the humour within the book.

Early on, as the author says, you’ll find this isn’t grandma’s rhyme book. Because it talks about dirty things. So apparently grandmas can’t be dirty.

Does Michael Pollock discriminate further? Check out those old mommas holding them signs. Things are about to get rough.

A third of the way through the book, there are complications. Your nostrils…the damage is too severe. While it was all easy rhymes before, you’ll now approach some unheard of concepts. Things like bridges, the chorus, repetition.

Brand new to me as well.

Then page 59 hits you with something really unexpected. While the book was keen to move things forward, it’s suddenly a much longer chapter.

For reference, that’s about 6 times the size of any from a James Patterson novel. The author who writes with different names and whose books are broken up into 1 line sections.

Chapter 1

The man ran into the bank.

Chapter 2

He pulled a gun on the getaway driver.

Chapter 3

Along came a punchline.

That was imaginative. So imaginative. As they say, creativity at play.

I Didn’t Finish (working title)

Michael Pollock rhymes with….

And song rhymes with thong.

Does it fit, or will you see a stray Pollock?

Get off the beach quick.

Back to Funny Lyrics. The “long” chapter’s about 40 pages. It’s not hard going though. The workload’s reduced as Pollock takes turns writing with you. You’re all set up with the info from previous chapters, and allowed to get on with it.

There are also blank lines in the book to write your own lyrics, if that’s your thing.

Then just when you think it’s going well, be careful. That’s due to the adult words within — like arthritis and eyesight.

Really, there are adult words, so if you have learned to read, you’ll recognise them when you see them.

And now I mention it, you might even await them with bated breath.

That might be a clue.

Here are some more. Blind date. What will be your fate? You’re running late.

You don’t have a clue.

So anyway, keep it out of sight. Even though the book’s 10%ish Pokemonesque Funny Lyrics typeface drew you in, certain words aren’t meant for children.

Like arthritis and eyesight.

Back to the long chapter, and it’s far more intense than what proceeded it. Pollock warns against frustration, to take it easy, and not throw the book against a wall. Instead, take it rock climbing and claim the fall was an accident.

“The harness was affixed when the book started the ascent, officer.”

It’s the same idea for chapter 6, that things alternate between you and him, with a bit more difficulty thrown in.

Which means, that while the previous crocodiles were of the blow up variety, this time they’re inflated.

So it’s…

He does one, you do one. He does one, you do one. He does one, you do one. Hey, come back. Right now!

The book moves from writing, to a tiny recap and some advice.

That done, the final pages consider working with a composer. It’s good to know for those without music writing skills (particularly the little tip about word flow).

And if you’ve stuck with the book ’til the end, you’ll have written a number of songs that can fill up a trash can.

Unless they’re good, then you’ll quickly move on to other things. Better things.

Like reading my articles.

Verdict

The first half builds your skills. The 2nd is about practising them, and watching your unfunny creations spring to life.

But don’t despair. There will be someone out there who enjoys laughing at your songs and finds it funny that you’ve spent your time on something so pathetic.

Wait, wait… that’s not a personal insult. Just a general thing.

What I mean to say is, that the book stands pretty much alone, in funny song writing advice. There are books on stand up, characters, general writing, screenplays, while this is a bit different.

It gives you ideas on song titles, areas to explore, rhyme schemes, how to get the ideas down, and more on choruses and bridges. Then a bit more.

It achieves this in a relatively small number of pages, which, if you’re interested in a topic, and, like adding excess, commas to a sentence, makes it a worthy a read.

Pros

Covers all the bases on how to write funny lyrics. It gives you a process which means you won’t need to wait for inspiration.

Cons

Most of the comedy involves rhymes. Good for song structure, but keep in mind you want to be funny, not just cute.

Other thoughts

This is a nice book. Now you’ll have to learn the piano to challenge Tim Minchin.

Length

144 pages. Take off 2 for the index, another 30 for blank pages and spaces for your own lyrics, and the lead in, as the foreword itself starts on page 9.

Make it about 112 pages. Also keep in mind the book’s compact dimensions, which make it shorter still.

Quicker readers will power through this in a day. Slower and dedicated readers will be through this in under a week. Both groups will be slowed considerably by writing lyrics as they go.

Here’s a speedy read, which gets off to a quick start, skips some paper, and begins on page 13.

That’s an outline of what’s ahead, a little talk, then the book starts on page 19. And then… shall I postpone the review for my next article, Scott?

Dikkers provides three methods for creating characters in record time. You’ll find out all about them in five pages.

The book needs to slow down a bit. I mean, is Homer Simpson funny if he naps during a meeting? That’s my incomplete thought, so I’ll leave it with you, like our boy Dikkers.

In fairness, he goes a little bit further, with a quick improv example. You’ll learn it’s all about the character traits.

Next is character relatability, and you’re handed four ways to achieve this. This comes in an A-D of things, but you’re left somewhat short. Dikkers could easily have done A-Z, plus numbers, to give you A1 to A99, through Z1 to Z99.

That would be 2,574 different references, rather than his paltry 4. So now we know Dikkers is a combination of two character types — lazy and unambitious.

What has the man achieved, anyway? No one’s heard of him.

Now on to the character archetypes themselves.

Forty of them, all given a two page spread, a large heading font, and a stick figure to convey the personality. As for the stick figures…

Between the headings and drawings, it leaves about a page for each archetype. Nice, quick, concise, with a line or two on how to use them. Film character mentions assist the process.

The forty types you’re provided cover all you could want, which prepares you for what’s ahead.

And that’s ten ways to make the archetypes original. A how to mix and match, the effect of environment, and other tricks to make old new again. Dikkers does a good job, and once again hands over the info quickly.

Choosing and Using the Archetypes gives you three quick pieces of movie dialogue. The first two snippets are a bit short, but get across a point — jokes come from characters. The third excerpt, from The Secret Life of Pets, is longer, and makes a better example.

While it’s all fair advice, it doesn’t go deep enough.

Imagine two unique people in conversation, both types shown in the book…and while their styles and characters clash, nothing remotely funny might happen. It could be completely dramatic.

So what pushes character differences to really make funny scenes and dialogue? It’s a missed bit of exploration. A bit like Indiana Jones, when he sees a boulder rolling towards him and runs away. There’s no sense in that.

There’s a bit more in the chapter and talk of character flexibility. Points well made. I mean, you don’t break when that round mass hits you, you bend.

Something for the headstone.

Why Should We Care is all about Dikkers life. He start off in mundane fashion, born like he was fired from a cannon, carries on complaining about something…mentions an onion, and…

Actually, it’s really about your creations and how to compel the audience to stick with them. This is the author at his best, and he doesn’t waste your time. He shows you eight effective tools that are simple to use.

The quality continues with a look at common character mistakes. There are nine of them to read about, and it’s top information.

In amongst them, there’s a funny character tip. Avoid stereotypes. While Dikkers rightly guides you from certain things, it’s worth considering that stereotypes can be humour shortcuts.

Think… Rodney Dangerfield, the stereotypes related to his persona, and the interplay with the punchlines.

That said, stereotypes are only workable in the hands of an expert. That’s why I use them.

You can find my film credits and awards online some place. Do your own research and take your time. A lot of time. Pace yourself.

Next is a look at the difference between comedy and drama. It’s all here, in Steve Kaplan’s book, The Hidden Tools of Comedy.

What? Oh, yeah.

Scott Dikkers takes a much lighter touch. His bath tissue is air expanded to resemble a standard size roll, but it only has 3 sheets.

Is it enough to get you through? He talks about Jaws and uses that to contrast with the comic side of things. Start the shower running.

Really, the book shows you all that’s needed to get a grasp of the concept. So if you want the Scott Dikkers’ take on it, its all right here (as in, in the book. Not in this review. I’m not going to show it. Get a grip).

Now on to dialogue, where the pace continues. It’s a dense chapter with a lot of info. Here’s the guide, you take the controls.

There are benefits to being lost at sea.

The only criticism this time — I know, unbelievable — is point 7, subtext. It would be nice to go a bit deeper, but unfortunately, the speedy nature of the book leaves no chance.

Otherwise, all good.

And a couple more pages finish the book.

That wasn’t too hard. Don’t know about you, but I fancy a pack of Lay’s Onion potato chips.

Verdict

A really good book by Scott Dikkers. If you want a host of character archetypes handed over at lightning speed, with movie references, and lots of other other helpful pointers, this book is for you.

While it lacks some depth, it covers most things nicely, and in an easily accessible format.

For

Quick read. Plenty of information. Well written and easy to understand.

Against

Could go into more detail here and there.

Other thoughts

This complements some heavier books nicely. The Hidden Tools of Comedy and Writing the Romantic Comedy go well with this.

Length

173 listed pages, which starts on page 13 ½. Take away another 63 for blank spaces in between the rest. That’s around 100 pages to read through.

Quicker readers will be through this in… not much time at all. Set aside a couple of hours.

Slower, dedicated readers, will be through through in under a week.

Straight in, you’ll learn that one episode of The Bickersons is better than most current TV comedy. Current was 1999, when computers were faster, cars were less polluting, and Zoom meetings screened at 4X4 pixels.

There’s truth in comedy.

A quick note. Several words in the book are written in caps. It’s rare to go a couple of pages without them. Here’s a hypothetical example,

A man walks into a room with a rock hard BANANA. Or is it a BAT? Something starts flapping.

This draws your attention to some words for SOME REASON. Ignore them and get reading. Or as they say round here — best start peeling.

No RUDENESS intended.

The Bickersons comes at you with four script snippets. You’ll learn about Rannow’s intro to comedy, and that his family were late to TV. Dinner was served at midnight.

To further his dreams, Rannow wrote for Jonathan Winters, and in a move to LA, broke the lease on his NY apartment. His mind ran wild, and he imagined aunt Margaret ripping his clothes off.

Just a quick re-read. It was Ann-Margaret.

Phew..

You’re given 7 humour exercises to help with idea creation. They don’t even cover a page, so easy to have a quick go. And another exercise follows straight after.

Rannow suggests you look around for ideas; they’re everywhere. And that to sit down writing, demands total coconcentration.

Where was I? Oh yeah, flicking through my Chrome tabs.

There are plenty of script excerpts in this book on writing TV comedy. It’s a really strong point.

Rannow says to get ideas for your comedy teleplay, you should ask questions, free associate, stare at your wall. And hope there are three others adjoining. Dive into tragedy and keep your senses open. Solid advice, while my critique is that the chapter could be more instructive.

The book continues by urging you to get the story down before you start. There’s some author help, a Welcome Back, Kotter example, then 15 tips to put your story together.

And at this point, things are going well. The general text is interspersed by bad jokes and good. Sounds somewhat familiar…

Next is story outline. One’s provided that Rannow wrote for Head of the Class, called ‘I am the King!!’.

Overall, a great read… except it sucks (the author’s own words). The biggest comfort is Rannow wrote this after 100+ story outlines. Hopefully not of this same story, otherwise it really sucks. Harder than a baby on a bottle with a diamond teat.

One gem in the book is a quick look at how to drive plot forward with characters. It shows the difference between plot ideas, and how characters can use those ideas to forward the story, through their unique behaviour.

Back to that sucky earlier outline, which was rejected by production. I guess the head of the team was a big baby. With a diamond teat.

Forget it.

Anyway, good for Rannow, and good for you, the reader of this book. The outline’s final revision was put in these pages, improved by the use of one of two methods (both of which are shown here).

And while the core story remains, the rewrite has an added element. It’s also far better written and a lot more engaging. It‘s great that it’s here, as its addition makes the poor first outline — and the jump from it — even more valuable and easier to comprehend.

The book moves very quickly from outline to script draft. There’s one of Rannow’s pilot sitcom spec scripts shown, which was rejected. Seven pages — followed by notes — display the correct layout.

A look at character next, with help from Dharma and Greg, and Spin City. A further Welcome Back, Kotter, highlights the role of dialogue .

More quick advice comes at you, with a look at funny sounds — go on, work that armpit.

Hard consonants and K words. What the cluck?!

A sacrilegious joke on page 89. If that’s your type of thing, you’re on the road to hell. See you there.

On working jokes into the script, examples come from Carson and Ed McMahon, plus Garry Shandling. Zingers 101 is a whip through different types of jokes. As for how many jokes per page of script, more Kotter, and Head of the Class, provide strong examples.

The pace never lets off. A single Dangerfield bit highlights sentence structure, then there’s a look at the rule of three. It’s just enough to understand what’s required.

Rannow’s meeting with John Wayne, and a realisation that the actor was funny off stage, takes half a page. A sentimental, yet pointless part, in the context of this book.

The soccer game started with a tense atmosphere. This was the championship deciding match between the two heavyweights of the SPL — Celtic and Rangers. Defending champions Rangers applied the early pressure, but it was Celtic that grabbed the initial advantage.

Next is old advice. Mail yourself items for a basic copyright. A blow by blow account of how to fit paper in an envelope, how to stamp it, how to write your own address, and…

Back to reality.

Rannow provides advice on agents, then how to prepare for pitches. There’s even a whole sentence in capitals. HOW LUCKY YOU ARE.

But it’s an important point.

In amongst more good advice, there are some fine pages on rewriting, while a couple of great anecdotes show the bad side of things.

On writing partnerships, Rannow comes across as really sweet. Be prepared to lose your teeth, as he dotes on past partners, Jewel Jaffe and Greg Strangis.

Rannow doesn’t stop there. He urges you to be classy and be professional to all, at every level.

Did you read that last part? Good, now **** off, I’ve taken it to heart. Still here? Also good, because I haven’t finished the review.

Show some respect and finish reading.

While Rannow’s done with writing tips, more industry goodness is dished. What does that mean? That it’s getting late and my writing’s about to collapse.

The book continues as follows; ignore drugs. If you see people snorting them, walk out, because you’ll find a better, untouched supply, elsewhere.

What I mean is, he says to reject them.

Also, Rannow gives you some reasonable pointers to consider on pilot episodes. Wayne Gretzky’s a super guy. And, if you start to make money, reruns will make you even more.

The last meaty bit is the author’s eight page chat with Eric Cohen. It covers some interesting things. His outlines are significantly longer than Rannow suggests you complete.

It’s up to you.

Verdict

Jerry Rannow’s been there and done it. He gives a good idea of what’s needed for a career in TV writing. Numerous script excerpts help his messages hit, while elsewhere, he provides solid advice on how to work and how to behave.

For

Covers a load of good points on TV writing. The use of script excerpts are great lessons on the subject matter.

Against

The ideas section could have been better, while the later jokes chapter could have been thicker.

Other thoughts

Humour comes from characters. Also include jokes in your script. It’s a merge of the two that deserves further exploration, that this book hits on only occasionally.

Length

211 pages. 21 of index and appendices. 10+ of blank spaces. 7 of Roman numerals, one which is a blank page.

Script pieces and formatting give some pages more white space.

Call this 180 pages.

Quicker readers will be through in a couple of days.

Slower, dedicated readers, a couple of weeks.

Because you haven’t read it before, Happy 2022. Happy New Year! Now that’s out the way, here’s a change of pace for the year ahead.

Another book review.

And so I’m ahead of the crowd. Happy 2023, Happy 2024, Happy 2025, Happy 20…

Time to get on with it.

23 comedy writers are interviewed by David Bradbury and Joe McGrath. Who are they? I could tell you, but it involves reading the dust jacket, and I don’t have time for words.

Chapter one, and it’s straight to the first interview. It’s Denis Norden. Who is that?

Stop asking the same question.

Every interview replicates the format; a short introduction, then the questions and answers.

For Denis Norden, you get a bit about him and his kettle, then he throws a cup of tea and tells them to get out.

Seriously, you’ll find out about his working style, working partnerships, who he rates highly in the comedy scene. And with a book publication date of 1998, the relevance to today is outstanding.

As you read the book, you’ll see authors Bradbury and McGrath handle themselves properly; they ask questions, then step aside. They’re back when needed, but otherwise let things flow. The writers are allowed to speak, without any jarring interruptions.

And at one stage, Bradbury opens 50 peanut butters in one minute.

Ba dum, tish… Yep, first joke of ’22, and it’s another broken symbol. For next Christmas, I want a new drum kit.

The downside of letting the interviews run is that they sometimes go off on a tangent. The last one with Evans, Baker, and Macdonald shows this. It works well in other instances. The interview just before with John Morton is introspective. It also carries a snippet of his knowledge on plotting vs dialogue.

That said, now a return to complaining.

At one point, a question moves awkwardly to the next. There’s also an obvious bit of condensing. Paul Merton’s done with in only 5 ½ pages, yet the book says the meeting went on a fair while. Apart form those occasions, the text reads well and is edited to a high standard.

Then on the aspect of learning comedy, or learning anything to help you write better… there isn’t much here. In fact, there really is very little of it at all. It’s like millionaires in a local soup kitchen.

But… there’s sometimes a glimmer of something.

Hang on, let me clear up that generality. There’s…uh.. well, what I mean is… Here’s the next paragraph.

Spike Milligan recites a limerick and a four line poem. John Sullivan skims over character catch phrases and has some advice on them. Then Richard Curtis mentions a pattern in his work, and while talking Blackadder, has a tiny, yet somewhat provoking bit, about the rule of three.

Which means some leftovers for the analytical mind. It’s not much, but it’s there. Plus the book is entertaining in its own right, and there are laughs to be had.

When it was published in ’98, it was still during the switchover from typewriters to computers. So hearing that some of the older writers struggled with the transition is quite amusing.

What do you mean, that’s harsh? This isn’t installing batteries in a pacemaker. It’s more like your uncle received an iPhone for Christmas, which he can’t turn on. Yeah, exactly.. it’s becomes life or death when you can’t see the home screen.

Apart from cosy tales and the odd bit of knowledge, you’ll learn different writing approaches do work. The most specific comes from Barry Cryer. He wrote his first drafts quickly, then fixed things after. As such, he couldn’t work with John Cleese, who’d go methodically, line by line.

That’s why there are so few mistkes in my writng.

Another lesson is, provided writers keep grounded after success, a career can last a lifetime.

Then there are stories like Victoria Wood’s. She had it tough before she got regular work; she nearly never made it. It’s quite inspirational when she made her first script sale and sold her first pilot. Southwest still wants him back.

Back to the themes of the book.

One is working schedule. These may change as people get older, as working hours tend to get more office like. Work in comedy is also exhausting, and while some want out earlier, others have a job until they hit the slab.

It’s early in the year so I had to be respectful. Other things you’ll see…

There may be problems for UK sitcoms converted for the US audience, which can turn things awry. You’ll also note some differences between the BBC and ITV (as of ‘98). And while establishments vary, so do people.

Paul Merton could write a joke styled for Julian Clary. The type that wouldn’t work for Merton’s persona. Then in another partnership, Arabella Weir could craft lines for Alexei Sayle, which he would reject, and vice versa.

You’ll find minor battles took place between Monty Python members. Very minor battles. While spears and arrows were hinted at, love was in the air when they got to grenades and rockets.

Departing once more from fantasy…

The book shows that writers’ idiosyncrasies mean not everyone is able to work together. But most can team up, under suitable arrangements.

For example, one person can sit at a screen, while the other’s strapped into a strait jacket with a mouth full of sock.

Which means a conclusion.. keep some of your socks unwashed, so they taste worse.

The conclusion for this book. How can I say it? It’s somewhat like Seinfeld. It’s about nothing. Although that’s pretty much untrue, either directed at that show, or this book.

So why include it? Well, because the editing of this article went wrong.

Verdict

Thoughtful style allows the interviews to run. It’s sometimes a downfall, but mostly works. The book’s a perfectly enjoyable read, and a pleasant look back at bits and pieces of successful comedy careers, with a number of laughs along the way.

For

Well chosen writers. A large selection of famous British/Irish writers, both past and present (at time of publication).

Against

Don’t expect to learn any tricks from direct teaching. You might connect a few things, but there are no serious revelations.

Other thoughts

It would have been nice to get some practical tips as well… still, it’s not the nature of the book. You pick up what you can.

Length

About 3 ½ in Roman numerals. 191 listed. For the blank spacing, take off about 12, then another 8 for gaps between questions and answers. Make it about 170.

Quicker readers will charge through in a day or two.

Slower, dedicated readers, about a couple of weeks.

It’s time to return to the classics, with a look at… um… here’s a book from 1994.

Comedy Is Truth and Pain. That’s the first chapter title and the Vorhaus look on comedy. He has a story from when he was twelve, but enough about him. I’m doing well, thank you, because my reviews fit; truthful in content, painful to read.

Vorhaus introduces the theory with a school day memory he wants to forget. Here it is, so he can’t (why did he write it?). Then there are a number of jokes, that he says work, through truth and pain.

Go with it or don’t, the main pain’s avoided as the section’s kept short.

For writers, the correct frame of mind is incredibly important, and after his brief theory tour, this is where you’re taken. He preps you with helpful, caring words. A kind of emotional bonding session through the pages. Close the book, he’s trying to breast feed you.

Sucking is encouraged. Or I should say, sucking on the page, as you write, is encouraged. No, I mean, sucking in writing is… just forget it…Be prepared to fail, the rule of nine, lower your sights. Then again, if you’re reading this, you can’t get much lower.

It’s Christmas. I’m on a sugar downer.

Now comes The Comic Premise. It’s about a gap between comic reality and real reality. This leads to some exercises, and it’s the start of many more to come. Vorhaus shows you his quickly made up ideas for inspiration, while famous film examples also offer help.

Next up, there’s a process for creating characters at speed. Then, to push that further, he gives you three more steps. One makes characters funnier, another adds sufficient emotional distance (so they can be laughed at), while a final one brings them close enough to care about.

All done in good time, and like toilet roll bought for the chronically constipated, there’s no wasted paper.

Vorhaus mentions some comic characters from famous films, then stops things at Hannibal Lecter. Stops too soon, because when you’re alive and a violent criminal’s eating your brain, you have to laugh.

There are more tools to discover. Clash of Context is one. Tension and Release is another. A couple more involve telling the truth, or lies, to comic effect. This review’s great!

I’ll stop now, because the work continues.

In one exercise, Vorhaus asks you to imagine you’ve been in a road accident with a major studio boss, which in turn, offers you a moment to pitch some high concept ideas. So make the most of it, and impress them. Show them you’re an expert with a neck brace.

Page 60, and a warning that sends a shiver down the spine of any cliché loving aspiring author. The warning is, and please sit down if you can, because it says, “the amount of actual writing you’ll be doing is about to go way up.”

Oh my… I think I’m having a heart attack. This isn’t good. Quick, doctor. Get me 12 hours of procrastination.

Should you choose to follow the exercise, there’s a reason for the writing increase; you’ll now be creating a whole world of characters. The names of classic films get thrown about, with Vorhaus’ instant creations are at hand again, to help you through.

If you’ve survived, Vorhaus consoles, as he says not all ideas will be keepers. Which is somewhat optimistic. I mean, when I write to paper, even half my rejects can tip a garbage truck.

It’s Christmas. I’m on a sugar depression… but the highs are so good.

You’re given a short way to structure stories. The process is simple, and he guides you through, so you too, can create a step by step outline. Like he says, it’s a way to get the story bones down in around ten sentences.

Which is small. Don’t think Save the Cat, this is Save the Kitten. And it’s more than reasonable, meow.

He goes over standard joke things; rule of three, cliches, running gags etc….Etc. as in, that’s pretty much it. He adds some spice with jokoids and the doorbell effect.

In Comedy and Jeopardy, you’re shown how to raise the stakes, and why it’s a crucial to do this. Vorhaus follows this with a host of little tools, to help add more laughs to your material. If that doesn’t work, then add more petrol.

Some sitcoms tricks are here, with a few pointers on structure and story, which can help, even outside the medium. Sketch comedy follows, with a 9 point method across 3 ½ pages. A process to help you lay out your sketches is an added bonus.

As the book’s coming to a close, it gets sitcom like, and returns to its beginnings. While the book’s start encouraged you to write, this is for help once you finish. It’s good, even if it’s quite readily available info. The best bit is on beta testers; what to expect, and what you need from them.

The book pads out with some weaker information, although you might pick up a tip or two in the closing pages.

Verdict

A book about comedy witting that brings something a little different. Numerous ‘tools’ are provided, which are ready to use across various comedy genres.

In the main, John Vorhaus doesn’t mess about, and the majority of the book gets to the point, although the final pages tail off. Either way, the whole book’s pretty good, and you can definitely learn some writing process optimisations by giving this a read.

For

Creating stories based around characters from the start.

Setting up situations that are more likely to be humorous from the get-go.

Against

While there’s a chapter on jokes, if you want something for straight stand up, there isn’t much here to warrant a look (perhaps the info on characters can be used).

Other thoughts

The sitcom and sketch parts feel a little tacked on, in the way they’re presented. There’s enough transferable info in them, if those two things don’t interest you.

Length

191 listed pages. Knock off about 20 pages for blank spaces and exercise page gaps. Add in 4 for the intro and the forward. 175 pages is about right.

Quicker readers will be through this in a day or two.

Slower, dedicated readers, will be around two weeks.

Should I list all the authors?

No, too many, and both covers do that. But in case of problems with the uploaded photos, the authors are; Robin Hemley, David Bouchier, Frank Sennett, J. Kevin Wolfe, Jennifer Crusie…

In the interest of starting the review, the book’s split into 3 parts. The Basics, The Genres, The Interviews.

Connie Willis, Josip Novakovich, Esther M. Friesner, David A. Fryxell, Mel Helitzer, Patricia Case, Dinty Moore, David Evans…

Robin Hemley gets things going. Words meander across an anecdote or two. It’s readable enough, but not focused.

Lee K. Abbot, Gail Galloway Adams, Sherman Alexie…

2 ½ pages in is more like it, with some usable tips.

But that’s it for now, and it’s a bit like this throughout, with noteworthy things buried under a mass of text. There is some amusement under Funny Situations and Anecdotes.

Then…

Use your dreams if you need, let’s talk about Woody Allen’s Bananas (are they green, black or pink? How many?) The Vandals part is pretty good, and across only a page, it doesn’t do excess damage.

I’m laughing too.

The book’s topics continue…

Surprise yourself, consider writing about cream cheese, something about exaggeration, snowballing, nothing about Danish Blue, repetition, repetition, repetition, repetition, repetition.

Thank you Robin. Next!

That would be David Bouchier. Apparently, “Humor is like sex”. That’s why you brought a microphone to bed. Testing, testing…

Incongruity, irony, word games and dialogue, the simple truth is funny. But what this book lacks is instruction. What was the title again?

Maybe things will change. Not that the cover will alter itself. But if it does…send me a sample. And all the packets you’ve got.

The book improves…

Some examples make things better. An NY cab ride with Dave Barry helps things along and promotes understanding.

Giving the Joke, by Frank Sennett, is chapter 3. It’s a discussion between Mark Leyner, Maggie Estep, James Finn Garner and P. J. O’Rourke. It can sometimes amuse, but doesn’t assist with comedy writing.

Up next, J. Kevin Wolfe adds analysis with The Six Basics of Writing, although it never goes very deep. Then, Part 1 ends on a high with Comedy Workshop. Jennifer Crusie with nine exercises to cover different written elements.

<Deleted joke about periodic tables>

Part 2 is The Genres.

Connie Willis starts with exaggeration and understatement. But the book’s been here before. So feel free to storm off for a drive to tear up the asphalt at 20mph.

Josip Novakovich takes control for chapter 7. Not a bad effort.

Then Esther M. Friesner leaves her mark. The constant use of ‘SpecFic’ is one you won’t forget, as it appears at a rate of about 1 a page. She does say some good stuff. The part where she tells you to write, then file it, is intriguing. Maybe I should have done the same with this review.

Jennifer Crusie returns. Now she’s banging on about writing Romantic Comedy for Women. Hardly a large demographic. Only half the world. But Crusie’s done it again, with a look at the differences between humour for men and women, well worth the inclusion.

David A. Fryxell says “On certain holidays, everyone becomes Erma Bombeck!” What is that, fancy dress at Christmas? There’s advice on choosing an article target, then a joke at the expense of North Dakotans. As someone living in the UK, I completely understand. Completely.

Mel Helitzer even gets a chapter, but this is Helitzer lite. If you want more of the man, be sure to read his famous Comedy Writing Secrets. I would tell you where it is, but I can’t.

This cartoon represents 29 people. Because that’s tough to imagine, and takes a little effort to replicate, I’ve stopped at 3 of them.

Patricia Case has something for the kids. Seven comic elements are thrown in, covered in under two pages.

Repetition’s back as a sub heading. Did I mention it before? And a look at wordplay ends her contribution. Case endorses it for youngsters (and all ages).

While she thinks wordplay is worthy, it was hammered earlier, filed under ‘best avoid’. Two different authors, two different opinions, which shows the somewhat disjointed nature of the book. That said, you get two perspectives to choose from.

Dinty Moore writes about a salesman.

Which is a good reminder to support those in need. Buy a used copy from Amazon for $2.99. Help the man.

Moore skips across juxtaposition, aided by a snippet of Bill Bryson. Irony and satire are covered too, as is exaggeration. She signs off with a couple of exercises.

The Seven Laws of Comedy Writing is from David Evans. His fifth point is a very good one. Then as he writes about timing, he sneaks in a bit on repetition. So another boot up the backside.

But it’s the most insightful bit on repetition so far. And that bears repeating, so… actually, no, I won’t go there. Clap for my superiority.

The book comes together for part 3. As oppose to falling off its spine.

There are lots of people interviewed and I won’t mention them all. That’s because I started earlier.

Melissa Bank, Dave Barry, Roy Blount Jr., Bill Bryson, Tom Bodett, Peg Bracken, Andrei Codrescu (save the fish), John Dufresne, Denise Duhamel, Joe R. Lansdae, Michael J. Rosen, Lois-Ann Yamanaka.

That’s it, the whole load. Put your thanks in the comments.

Lee K. Abbot states some noteworthy things in his interview. The questions posed to Dave Barry end too quickly. Roy Blount Jr.’s line from a Wynonie Harris song makes an important point, while Bill Bryson shares some wisdom.

The interviews are good to go through; they’re helped by the editing and because they’re all storytellers. One downside is having authors’ beginnings outlined, which won’t help you Write Funny. Their pondering doesn’t assist much either. A bit like the rest of the book then, where a thorough sift through gets the most from it.

After his intro appearance, Kachuba’s back to wrap things up. If the book hadn’t gripped you, this won’t either. It’s a good quick recap, and as a further help, he leaves a list of authors and their important works.

That starts with Aristophanes. But about him, and a word of caution. While he can be prolific, he has dried up as of late.

Verdict

A book that roams and can be a little hard to get into. There’s usable information in here, but be prepared for some repetition, some conflicting ideas, and not much instruction.

It’s mostly cross threaded wisdom, but stick around, because there is a bit of gold if you persevere.

Recommended for:

The basics of comedy writing. Some great insights here and there.

Not for:

A shared vision. Or completely shared vision. While they mostly agree, there are some differences between the authors’ viewpoints.

Not much depth on any topic.

Other thoughts

Some of the authors won’t hook you, so reading their parts will be less pleasurable.

Length

Quite a long one. 232 pages listed. Take off 5 for the index, another 10 for blank spaces and the 3 title pages.

That makes it a 210 + page read.

Quicker readers will be done in a couple of days.

Slower and dedicated readers will get through this in a few weeks.

Most tools aren’t hidden. In fact, they’re right here, on Medium.

No, no. I’m joking. I wouldn’t want to alienate people. I mean… just look, be reasonable. Go on, carry on reading.

Just.. carry on.

Anyway, you’ve missed the book’s subtitle: The Serious Business of Being Funny. So turn that frown upside down… and back the other way, because you’ve got to concentrate.

The intro has info on Kaplan and what makes him qualified to teach these tools. As he says, they work.

Is he qualified to teach them? I’ll skip that part. He mentions some stuff, but I’m not his rep, so I’ll move on.

He was a waiter or something.

But I imagine it was quite funny soup. Those ripples at the edge of the bowl… you can’t make it up.

The book quickly asks; what is comedy? If you don’t know, why are you reading this?

Uh.. forget I said that.

The answer’s delivered through a scene from the classic comedy, All My Children (which was actually a drama, but Kaplan thinks otherwise. Is he really qualified?).

Straight away, the frog dissection begins. Kaplan’s analysis is medium heavy stuff. He provides a pretty thorough teaching, while he avoids making it feel like 9:00am, Monday mornings.

Good job.

Next, he gives you an equation. The fun part for all would be writers, because equations solve all your writing woes. Feed them a variety of things, and if your sums balance, you’ve got a hit on your hands.

However, if you’ve left your job, and now you’ve crashed your sums, your SO may hit you somewhere else. Did I mention the groin?

No, I don’t think I did. Groin.

As for the equation… like anything else Kaplan, it makes sense. Mostly. But if you write comedy, or write about it, you can’t be completely sane.

Obviously I make some exceptions.

Now where are my cornflakes? Ah, there they are, pressed into the chicken dinner.

The comic equation is a statement you can apply to your scripts. It’s a simple and powerful concept.

What follows is an intro to the tools, which leads to part two of the book, and the first tool.

Which is Winning.

Already, thoughts sweep you back to high school, all the tests, and scoring top marks. That you earned honestly, through sheer hard cheating.

Winning is shown by a Kaplan class exercise and why actors suck at it. It’s well explained, and already the book’s first proper show that comedy comes from character.

Excerpts from Annie Hall, Liar Liar, Groundhog day, show what works. Then there’s Alex and Emma. Small parts of that, for what can go wrong.

Non-hero is another tool. It comes with another good exercise from his classes. But without wanting to damage Kaplan’s reputation.. he’s basically training women in violence.

Anyway, Kaplan’s all about comedy, so he has no reputation. I mean, who wants to be funny? It’s not a skill anyone wants.

While still in the non-hero stuff, Kaplan shows his own, non-hero charm, by starting a fight with Robert McKee.

Embarrassing.

Kaplan’s 70 + and McKee’s a decade older. So, anyway.. about that fight…the only logical question is, how much for the rights?

Either way, this “fight” involves narrative continuation or interruption, and is only a small distraction.

There’s a bit more on Groundhog Day, and why something was tweaked for the final script.

Non-hero goes deeper, with a bit about how the Farrellys came up with that hair gel scene from There’s Something About Mary. Peter Farrelly describes it himself. It’s a really fascinating short piece in the book.

The halfway point gets you to Metaphorical Relationships. There are loads of films and shows touched on; The Odd Couple, The Producers, Seinfeld, The Big Bang Theory, Monk.

And that’s just all of them.

The chapter’s length is padded by 14 pages looking at the zipper scene — and build up — from There’s Something About Mary. Pondering over a young man getting his junk pincered by his fly…it’s not painful in the slightest.

With that in mind, it’s an enjoyable and informative piece. My only criticism is its link to the core of the chapter is a little overstretched.

Like the elastic on your lockdown pants.

Not finished, Kaplan lays into Alex and Emma a bit more. It’s not exactly a pounding, more a prod with a velvet gloved little pinky finger. It tickles a bit.

The next tool is Positive Action. There’s analysis of Seinfeld, As Good as it Gets, and about 5 pages of a Fawlty Towers episode.

Plus, a really good part when the chapter talks comedy and drama. You’re given a great idea of what tips the scales one way or the other.

Active Emotion covers the hand slapping game, or slaps. No, really. It’s on page 164 of this copy. Then, to heighten the drama, a swearword on page 169.

Most readers will be put off by that, and it nearly ended this review. It had nothing to do with my laziness.

As a tool, Active Emotion is pretty lightweight. As Kaplan says, it’s less for writers, more for the performers and directors.

With that admission, things move to Straight Line/Wavy Line. An intriguing name, for what is Kaplan’s take on the straight man and comic.

At this point, you may be wondering, is this merely semantics? Is Kaplan’s take really better than the rest?

You be the judge. As this is a review, don’t expect me to go out on a limb and offer an actual opinion.

Abbott and Costello’s Who’s on First? gets looked at. The 10+ pages of this — and the rest of the chapter — is when Kaplan works hardest to bring you to his way of thinking.

Seinfeld gets taken down the tunnel as well. Is there a train approaching?

The flash beam reckons the tracks were abandoned years ago. Which you would have noticed much quicker had you gone out in daylight.

There’s a funny bit of script, and its analysis, this time of The Burgundy Loaf. It’s a sketch from the defunct Mr. Show. Then, before the chapter’s out, a scene from Meet the Fockers.

And then… (not the film you’re thinking, just added here as a segue. Which has now been interrupted by this explanation that was required for your understanding. Thanks).

An exercise. The only one in the book, but as it goes with one of the more challenging concepts on offer, it’s more than welcome.

A couple more tools remain.

These seem like lesser tools, but even lesser tools must be treated equally. They contain a bit more on comedy coming from character. Then stuff on premise.

How’s that for equal?

Still, good tips, but not as detailed as what preceded them.

In the book ending FAQ, some unexpected questions and answers. These come in the form of… questions and answers.

They make a pleasant read, and the answers keep you reading right until the very end.

NB

This reviewer didn’t finish the book.

Verdict

Steve Kaplan’s written a book on comedy that doesn’t talk jokes. In fact, it goes right out of the way to avoid them. Here you’ll get to read about his tools and how to employ them. They come with analysis, which is done well, and in a readable way.

Sometimes, there’s a little bit of fighting the wheel of invention, but Kaplan keeps pulling you towards his concepts.

With the amount of comedy things he’s been involved with, it’s very difficult to read this and not come away with something new. And once you’ve read it once, the freshness of the contents, and its depth, justifies at least a couple of reads.

Pros

For a different look at things. If you want the Kaplan take on scripted comedy, definitely buy a copy.

Cons

No jokes. None at all. Actually, Kaplan tells one very early in the book. It’s pretty good.

Other thoughts

Sometimes there’s a little bit of padding with added script when it really wasn’t necessary. But I’m not complaining. It’s all for education.

Length

260 pages listed. About 9 in Roman numerals. Take off 30 for spacing, cut another 30 for script excerpts and its white spaces, plus reasonable spacing between each line of text.

200 pages sounds about right.

Quicker readers will take a couple of days.

Slower, dedicated readers, a couple of weeks.

While this guide covers the above formats, there’s nothing on cereal packets. So if marketing want to sugar coat some new breakfast junk, they’ll actually have to rely on its sugar coating.

Let that sink in… to your gums.

Ronald Wolfe says you can’t teach anybody to write comedy. There has to be a spark.

And since I can’t think of a clever response, I’ll move on.

The book tells you to not worry about layout.

— — — — — -Then

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — Wolfe

— — — — — gives you

— — a brief rundown of stage, TV, radio and theatre formats. The mindset to adopt for each. I can’t tell you the differences, without spoiling the book, but the script similarities are as such;

Radio — uses words

TV — uses words

Stage — uses words

Film — uses words

I hope that was helpful.

There are three mini bits; one from Ray Galton, an answer from Brian Cooke, and one from Andy Hamilton. Cooke’s advice comes with a useful tip.

The other two? Well, they talk about things. Comedy is mentioned. The book goes on.

Chapter two comes fast, and the book’s nature is revealed. It’s made of pages, paper and ink. Beyond that, these are largely short chapters.

Wolfe says he doesn’t know why things get laughs, but knows what does.

And just seeing those words makes the light bulb go off, and you’ll race to get a job at a comedy club, to be behind the bar, because your writing sucks.

Really, what works for Wolfe is a number of concepts. These are shown through script examples and certain classics, like Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life.

Sketch examples continue with more excerpts when the book shows you how to get ideas. Then at one point, it tells you, Let your mind revolve around the subject.

A bit vague, but if you want to walk, all you need to know is to move one foot in front of the other. No other advice is required… as long as it’s your own feet you’re moving.

Just don’t try grabbing granny’s legs to help her round the supermarket. And if you have, you should be ashamed. The sheer sadness when someone finds her empty scooter.

All that aside, examples continue in small and understandable chunks, with more scripts and pieces. Page 33 leads on to a couple pages TV script.

Then, chapter five is a strong one that shows a situation and develops it. This leads to a part with possible script directions, as well as a powerful question to open topics even further.

A question that reminded me of my own struggles. After writing a 70,000 word script, my agent asked me, “what went wrong?”

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I sat down to type.”

Hey, at least it got done. With all the smoke coming from it, my laser printer’s finished.

The book follows the powerful question for another couple of pages. It shows how simple ideas can lead to viable stories.

Another good one is chapter seven. It opens with the line, How do you know if a scene is funny?

From my own experience, someone else wrote it.

Then more question, more possibilities, and you get to see an idea developing, with permutations. Always remember the permutations. Which start wavy then go straight.

Wolfe shows you how to lengthen a storyline, a few tricks to add more scenes, and something to use if you’re desperate.

Don’t go there.

The book tells you there is nothing like a good visual gag. Presumably, hearing you choke isn’t enough.

Apparently, the visual gags are remembered long after all the clever one lines are forgotten. That’s why people forget my Medium articles, because…no wait, it’s because they’re rubbish.

This is when I thought a visual gag would be to upload a snap of one of my body parts. Then I thought… no that’s too far.

So that’s that.

But in a contradiction, here it is.

NB Photo blurred in post production to reduce potential excitement.

Chapter eight’s topic of visuals covers Jack Lemmon and his spaghetti tricks in The Apartment. There’s another visual one from On the Buses. The book also takes you through a scene in Carla Lane’s Butterflies.

A couple more funny visual premises move the book into characters.

It’s a flimsy three pages. They don’t quite fall from the book, and there are a few lines to think about, which end with a funny ‘Allo ‘Allo, very short, two character exchange.

To show you format — where your show might be set and about what — Wolfe takes you through the foundations of On the Buses. That’s relayed through an eight step process, which you can copy for your own ideas.

There’s also the one necessary item needed in comedy. Plus, a couple of questions, to see if your creation can be sustained for more than a single episode.

Two episodes! I’m loaded!

The On the Buses series idea is laid out like a pitch to TV bosses, with the chapter closing with ideas for fallback sources of comedy for your show.

Casting is Crucial gives you some ideas on …casting. To make the concept clear, there’s a black and white diagram of a bait caught haddock.

No, there isn’t.

It’s certainly interesting how the cast affects the final production. With the talk of that, there are some tales from the business, how certain stars got into their roles, and why they were made so big by the bakery.

That’s a drum roll (I’m on fire tonight).

In fact, these puns are why I’m barely off the bread line.

Ronald Wolfe was a British comedy writing legend. He was famous as being half the Wolfe and Chesney duo. Wolfe’s credits include The Rag Trade, On the Buses, and its film adaptations. He wrote Take a Letter, Mr Jones, a couple of episodes of ‘Allo ‘Allo, as well as working as a script consultant. He later turned to lecturing and tutoring, from New York, to Barleona & Kent, plus other locations.

Those are just some of his highlights.

While the casting chapter is a long one for this book, Writing an episode step by step is even longer.

That relative extra length is good, because it allows space for Wolfe to take you through scenes and script from New Uniforms (a classic On the Buses episode). It’s fun, well laid out, with clear info about certain lines and choices.

Chapter fourteen looks at what to write sitcoms about. These involve your premise, a shortish list of situations to fit most concepts, and disclosure on what will interest viewers. There’s also an excellent tip on how to use characters to fuel storylines.

The book moves on to discuss laugh tracks, there’s short advice on daily routine, and a little trick for writer’s block.

But back to laughs, which are mentioned under a slightly surprising heading… Are those laughs real? More to the point, are there any laughs?

It’s no use listening for crickets when they’re dead from waiting. By the time your script’s any good, you’ll be sweeping away the cockroaches.

You’ll even get to see the final atom bomb fall.

Chapter fifteen is Getting along with your director, the actors and the rest of the crew. I’d rather not, so I’ll skip this part.

But there are tips on how to handle them. Because at some point, you’ll probably want to grab them and shake them, once they’ve destroyed what you’ve written.

And if they eat your on set ice cream, a shake will be the least of their worries. They’ll be too busy enjoying chocolate and walnuts.

There are bits on the set designer, costume designer, directors, and actors.

For those who get this far, these are some worthy considerations. For those who don’t, why did you break into a set? Rob a bank, you fool.

To help with the info on the production team, there’s a couple of amusing real life examples. On one occasion, a director indulged an actor, then chopped him up… on the cutting room floor.

Wolfe talks you through choosing a writing partner — if you want one. Writing alone works, as do a number of partnership methods. But there are some things you want to avoid.

Like sharing a pen.

The stand up chapter doesn’t give you much to think about. How to choose topics, but this was covered earlier with sitcoms.

There’s some redemption with a partial bit written by Wolfe, for Beryl Reid (performed as Monica of St Trinians). There’s also an excerpt from the famous routine from Shelly Berman, and his phone call to Masey’s.

Another thing is, jokes can’t be written by formula. But others say you can.

How would I know? I can’t even write a joke.

Women in Comedy gives a look back at the UK scene, mainly pre 2000. There’s a funny joke by Victoria Wood, and some chat from Beryl Vertue. Director Susan Belbin gets some words in, and there’s a piece with Lucy Flannery.

That ends with “women do approach comedy in slightly different way”.

And it stops.

The analyst in me is disappointed. Please, go on. The reviewer, ecstatic. Less to type.

There’s a bit on censorship, and how restricted things were before the 70s, and particularly before 1960. All UK based, but with developments largely mirrored in the US.

Drama is likened to comedy, there’s mention of James Bond, and there’s a serious film worthy of study. A dramatic classic, which Wolfe says uses the same tricks as comedy. It will help you learn how thin the line is, which the chapter explains by writers who’ve moved between comedy and drama.

A late chapter poses the question, “Should I go to Hollywood?” Well, depends on the price of the tickets. To save money, you could fly in close and drive over for a fraction of the cost. It’s only 1,800 miles from Baton Rouge.

Just remember — writing in America is more pressure and more money. Succeed and it can be life changing. Fail, and it can be life changing. Jump from a helicopter, and …

Before the book ends, there are tips for breaking in, which mostly revolve around staying power. But it’s nice to see people who’ve moved in from different directions; one even got to sitcoms from writing a book.

Wolfe ends with “Keep Dodging and Diving, Trying and Striving, and GOOD LUCK!”

With the book finished, things move on to a tacked on FX chapter.

You get to see the difference between a rehearsal and camera script. It’s uses both sides of the book to present it cleanly.

In discussing technical shots, particularly sounds used for radio, Wolfe explains these are, “done live in the studio or they are on tape.” Presumably, in the example script that has granny shot dead, this was done live.

What a waste. You could have just grabbed her legs.

Verdict

A pretty full book that’s kept moving with mainly brief chapters. You get all the bits from the book’s subtitle, with the best sections being about TV sitcom. Thankfully, these skills transfer to the other genres, which is helped by the constant tips shown throughout.

For:

The sitcom chapters. 5, 7, 11 & 13 are very worthy chapters for people wanting to write sitcoms.

Against:

Some chapters are more a brief history of the UK scene, where comedy might be headed (as of the early 2000s), while other chapters are too short.

Other thoughts

An expanded version of this book based solely on sitcoms would have been a must read.

Length

190 pages, which are quite well packed.

Take 8 pages from the start for the author’s note, contents and the like. Take 8 from the end for TV Companies list and index. Remove a dozen for spaces and blank pages.

Call it 160–164 pages to read.

Quicker readers will be through this in a couple of days.

Slower, more dedicated people will take a couple of weeks.