Real, for-true life has been getting in the way of my writing, twittering and blogging. It’s been just awful. Ask my dog.
Freckles and I did get to attend a nifty writing workshop thrown by Dan Schwabauer–author, speaker, writing coach extraordinaire. We spent an afternoon looking at elements of story, as illustrated through the silver screen.
One of the movies Dan used for his examples was Life is Beautiful. The one about the father who convinces his little boy that the Nazi concentration camp they’re in is really an elaborate contest. And the winner gets a tank.
Dan showed us clips that made the other workshop participants laugh.
I. Could. Not. Stand. It.
Because here is what I know about humor:
The funniest people on the planet are intimately acquainted with pain.
Humor is an endorphin-delivery system.
And also a weapon.
If you only know me from the hilarity *cough* which I spew in my articles, blogs and twitter, you’ll be surprised to learn that I write rather dark YA. Oh, there’s funny. Because the best funny grows out of the dark.
I’ve been kind of startled by some of the stuff I’ve been able to scrounge out of myself for my WIP. Maybe even been a little afraid of it.
Where did I think all my knee-slappers came from?
I wonder how many people recognize where the title of this post comes from. Does anyone read Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking-Glass anymore? Perhaps the craziness of real life has squelched the desire for the absurd in literature.
I am a children’s writer, primarily YA fantasy. I live in the imaginal realm four to six hours a day. It is a strangely familiar yet dangerous place, filled with our most profound fears and joy. I am lucky to work where myth and legend, imagination and creativity, and monsters and saints live.