Writing To Describe - Humour

Using Humour in Writing Paper 2 Section B – Writing to Describe Your poor, poor GCSE examiner will be marking about 500 exam papers. It’s likely that 499 will be exactly the same as each other, but one will stand out of the crowd. Why? Because it will make the examiner laugh! If you can make your examiner laugh it’s likely that you are using higher level language skills in your writing too. A distinct personal voice will shine through, vocabulary will have been chosen with care to create humour, paragraphing and structure will have been shaped to create an effect on the reader and sentences will be varied to create liveliness in the writing. But how can you do this in your own writing? Dave Smith, a stand-up comic and professional writer, visited two year 11 classes recently and shared his secrets. To bring humour into your own writing do the following tasks in your revision. •

Read Dave Smith’s article ‘Fun on a Norfolk Broad’

•

Now look at the sheet ‘Write Right’ which lists ways you can create humour in your writing.

•

Go back to ‘Fun on a Norfolk Broad’ and annotate the text, labelling all the example of Dave Smith’s use of these ‘humour tools’

•

Now think about sentence structure. Look at the sheet ‘Sentence Structure to Create Comedy’ and again, find examples of these sentence structures in Dave Smith’s work.

•

Now try it yourself. Choose one of the exam questions on the following sheet and approach it using humour.

•

Redraft the piece making sure you focus on using the examples of sentence variety and humour tools from the previous sheets.

•

Remember, sometimes humour can also be appropriate in Paper 1 Section B: Writing to Argue, Persuade, and Advise.

•

Read more humorous writing following these links:

Dave Smith’s website: http://www.wordsmith-features.com http://www.guardian.co.uk/profile/lucymangan

www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/series/shazia-miraz-weekend-column

Fun on a Norfolk broad: Confessions of a tourist Ally was pally, the boat was afloat — all was going well for Dave Smith. Too well, in fact… WHEN I was 18, and my mate Bob was 17, we booked a week’s holiday on the Norfolk Broads. I was stacking Tesco’s shelves part time (cereals, tea and coffee, since you ask), and he was still at sixth form, working in a shoe shop on Saturdays, so it was all we could afford. Being in charge of our own boat had many attractions. We could get up when we liked, eat what we liked, and most importantly, we would have our own place — something we imagined would be irresistible to the clean-limbed Norfolk farm girls we would undoubtedly encounter in every town. Turning up at Potter Heigham, we were told by the big-thumbed boatyard man that our two-berth boat wasn’t ready. Would we mind changing to a four-berth? Would we ever. It was my first (and, as it turns out, last) experience of an “upgrade,” and it felt good. Casting our eyes over what looked to us like the royal yacht, we were hopping around with excitement at the thought of having our own cabins. Man, once we got this baby out on the water, we were going to be like apprentice Hugh Hefners. Just when we were thinking it couldn’t get any better, Big Thumbs showed us how to fold away the canopy roof to make what was, in effect, a convert-ible. A convertible! Cool! We turned our noses up at the six-quid indemnity waiver that Tom Thumb suggested, but he’d seen lads through this way before, and wisely insisted. We coughed up. We stocked up on staples for the trip — tea, coffee, boil-in-the-bag ready meals, vodka and grapefruit juice. These last two were the essential ingredients for the ultimate in sophistication, the V&G. Though both confirmed beer drinkers, we thought it only polite to provide cocktails for the ladies. We chugged out of the yard and, two hours later, moored up next to a pub. Inside, we chatted with locals. Between bouts of showing off and nonstop talking, I noticed one of the women giving me the glad eye. I was pleasantly surprised, as Ally was really pretty, and it was usually Bob who received the attentions of pretty women in pubs. I sat with her for the rest of the evening, nearly spitting all my beer over her when she asked if she could stay the night with me on the boat. She was 26, which to me meant “real woman”. I was so keen, I think I even said: “Yes, please.” She was so grown-up. She spent the night with me, then was adult enough to ignore Bob’s furtive looks of “Did you or didn’t you?” over breakfast. Now she asked if she could come with us to the next town. Oh happy day. It was my turn to drive, so while Bob sulked below decks, Ally sat chatting to me, with her hand resting casually on my backside (and occasionally, to my delight, my

frontside). It was in this state of slightly distracted delirium that I drove the boat full speed into a bridge. Sure, there was a sign on the low bridge saying “Please lower sides and windscreens”, but it was written in letters that were only legible when said bridge was tearing off the beautifully varnished, hand-crafted windscreen and side window frames. Yes, I should have been paying more attention to my driving, but my main concern at the time was a beautiful woman whispering promises in my ear. We moored to a round of applause from onlookers, then poured ourselves a drink. The boat was wrecked. Borrowing a tarpaulin from a nearby yard, we rigged up a kind of canopy and battened down the hatches that evening. Ally impressed me further by kindly cooking us a meal, with real ingredients and everything. Then she stayed the night, and kept her promises. She left the next morning, with an understood “You know where to find me if you’re up this way again,” then we phoned the boatyard to ’fess up. Thumbs arrived and asked us what had happened, and in my dozy state, the first waterborne hazard that popped into my head was — of course — a swan. “There was this rogue swan, right,” I blurted, “and it was attacking me. It was huge and hissy, and I’d heard they can break a man’s arm with their wing, so it made me swerve, and this is what happened.” Thumbs looked me right in the eye: “Yeah, you wanna watch those birds, son.” Whether he’d been told the real story by one of the dozens of witnesses, I’ll never know. But that £6 damage waiver — what a result.

Write Right Humour Tools By Dave Smith Exaggeration- go the extra mile to create a sense of something going way beyond the expected- all adds originality. Repetition- referring back to something already mentioned to reaffirm just why it’s funny. Setting up expectation- pulling the rug- catching the reader unawares will keep their interest, essential if they’re going to read on and find the rest funny! Sense of the ridiculous- just let the imagination run wild- let the writing go off the rails every now and again. Recognition- if the reader recognises something of themselves in the writing it will strike a familiar chord and generate interest. Funny language- some words are just ‘funny’- use them. Made up words- don’t be shy of making up juicy words to get your message across. Rule of three- three is just funnier than two. It sounds less clumsy and scans better.

Sentence Variety to Create Comedy Grabber Line An opening line which throws and surprises the reader. The ellipsis delay Using a dramatic pause for comic effect. The rule of 3. The first thing introduces an idea, the second reinforces it, but the third deviates from what is expected for comic effect. Pull back and reveal or Misdirection Holding back a piece of information until later in the text. Dashes to report dialogue embedded into description Dashes for asides

Inverted commas for irony. Exclamations Questions

I have an old bag for my ironing.

No, gentle reader, not an old crone locked in my utility room but and old shopping bag crammed with articles on my ‘to iron’ list. Some people thing I’m a man hater but they’re wrong. I love men…as a concept. It’s just the reality is such a let down sometimes.

‘By love, of course, I refer to romantic love- the love between a man and a woman, rather than a mother and a child, a boy and his dog, or two head waiters.’ Me and my friend Allison have been invited to a fancy dress party. We’re going to go as Paris Hilton and Jodie Marsh. I’m getting a lobotomy and Allison is going for a breast enlargement. Bunty’s navigation is either hit or miss – B125, B126- what’s the difference? Or defensive – How should I know what the sign said. You’re the driver! Did you know- this is a little-know fact but absolute truth- that when they dedicate a new multi-story car park the Lord Mayor has a ceremonial pee in the stairwell. Katie Price’s ‘writing’ career is blossoming. The Hammer Holiday from Hell is about to begin! My sister walks into the room and announces she’s

Colons Introduce a subject. Cause-effect. Premiseconclusion. Semicolons A linking pause

pregnant. Can anyone top that? Yes, apparently Mrs Roper can. Think about it: if the army fought a war on spiders it would be a) winnable, b) cheaper and c) popular. I’d feel better if our lads were on 24-hour call-out; a dedicated anti-arachnid task force could turn up at your home in the dead of night and splatter them.

In the Exam… • • • • • • • •

Describe your bedroom Describe a dream world Describe a place you do not like. Describe your home. Describe the view from your bedroom window. Describe a person you know well. Describe yourself. Choose an event in your past that had special significance for you. Describe what happened and explain how you feel about it. • Childhood memories can be very important. Choose a childhood memory to describe and explain its importance. Think about how these students have used humour in their writing. •

Write about a holiday you have recently been on.

The golden strip of the shore disappeared into the far-off blue. There was no-one but me around. Seven o'clock in the morning the beach was mine. Soon, it would be different. The people who take photographs for postcards would get there before anyone else to take those shots of miles of sand with no-one about that you couldn't believe when you were defending your towel territory against the family from hell, the

dogs who were forbidden to be on the beach and the 53 white cardies on a day trip from Birmingham. Later the beach would be heaving with human life, but I liked it the way it was for a short time each morning. No beer-bellied Dads dribbling pickle down their chin as they burped their way through another can of larger. No strutting posers eye-ing you up behind their cheap Armani-lookalike shades. No white beach hulks turning pink because it's there first day and they weren’t going to be ripped off by paying that price for some sun-tan oil. Another student wrote: I woke up to bright sunshine, blue sky and the music of birdsong all around. A whole day of blissful holiday freedom lay ahead. Sun, sea, sand and who knows what - company, laughter and Romance, perhaps… I picked my way over yesterday's scattered socks and knickers and jeans towards the kitchen and sat at the table. Before me lay the mainly empty tinfoil packs of last night's Chinese takeaway, and in the sink the plates that had been left for someone else to do in the morning. Someone else was nowhere to be seen. Again. Escaping the scene of wreckage in the kitchen, I opened the door to greet the new day. Outside, life was stirring on the camp site. The inviting smell of bacon wafted across the grass, in the distance I heard the tide caress the crumbling castles on the beach, and the Great Dane from the next caravan had done it again, right in front of our steps, a real monster, steaming gently in the early morning sunlight. 499 students wrote this when asked to ‘Describe the room you are sitting in’ (the exam hall): The room I am in is a big hall in my school. It is full of people doing their English exam. Everyone is very quite and trying to do there best. There are teachers walking up and down invigiliting. I can see my friends concentrating. The room is quite warm. Because there are lots of people in it. Most people are wearing shirts because it is warm. There is some fresh air coming in from the window. The room I am in is the school hall. It has a stage at one end which is used for plays and things like that. We had a band here when we had the year 11 Christmas party. But only one write this: You learn a lot about sex in an English GCSE exam. Well, perhaps I mean gender, not sex.

I’m sitting in my GCSE English exam and, looking around, I can’t help noticing that most of the girls in the hall have some sort of lucky mascot on their desks. Some have purple haired trolls and others have little animal key-ring attachments. The boys don’t have any good luck charms. Why is this? Why do girls, even the bright ones who have been getting A* all year, feel they need good luck on their side? Is it because girls don’t believe in themselves? And why don’t boys need good luck charms? Is it because they think “I’m a bloke. I don’t need luck. I’ve got testosterone”? It seems to me that boys need good luck more than girls. Who is it who turns up to a writing exam and has to borrow a pen? Why is it that in an English exam where you need an Anthology, the only people who turn up without one are male? Which would you give a higher mark to?