Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Alice Bradley Has More Funny in her Left Pinky Toe than You Have in Your Entire Body

Many of you probably already read Alice on a daily basis, but if you don’t, you should. It’s that simple. Even if she doesn’t post daily, you should go there every day and rifle through her archives. She is a genius and she will make you laugh. Interviewing her was a delight. Besides running finslippy, she has a weekly column on AlphaMom called Wonderland. I understand it is also quite popular as well. She gets about 417 hojillion hits per week and she tends to the psychological needs of all her readers. That is how much she CARES! Plus, she ended this post by inviting everyone to make out with her. What’s not to love?

1. Do you have a specific person or audience in mind while you write? Or are you imagining the great unwashed masses of humanity out here on the internet giggling behind our keyboards?

I do imagine my audience while I’m writing, although I can’t tell you exactly who they are or what they look like. Generally they’re benevolent and all-forgiving, although occasionally they turn wrathful and plague-happy.

2. Anything you shy away from?

Anal.

3. Are you a performer? Do you stand out in a crowd as the “class clown” type? Or are you the person in the back of the room taking it all in and making notes for later?

Sometimes. It depends on the context. Sometimes you can’t shut me up with the talking and the hijinks, and other times I’m hiding in a coat closet until the police come.

4. Speaking of notes. Some writers carry around notebook or something to jot ideas in throughout the day. Do you have anything like that?

I have only my magnificent mind.

5. Do you have someone you filter your writing through? Like someone who reads your stuff before you hit publish and will tell you in a brutally honest fashion, “Alice, I can see what you are trying to do here, but it’s not working?”

I used to give it to my husband, but the third time I threw a shoe at his head, he observed that maybe he shouldn’t be my editor. So now I just hit publish and then I throw a shoe at his head.

6. How much re-writing do you do on average? Or does the funny just happen as you type/write?

For the blog, I almost never rewrite. Which is not always a good thing.

7. My wife (frankly, she’s a much better writer than me), once told me that she felt there were two kinds of writers. People who started writing a piece and were on a journey and didn’t know where they’d end up, and writers who had an outline and knew exactly what they’d be saying at any given moment, they’d make a nice outline for themselves. Do you think you fall into either of these neat little categories?

I’m definitely the former, although it seems really pretentious to say it. My mind takes me on a fascinating journey. A fascinating mind-journey. GOD, I’m brilliant. How can I outline and pre-plan and box my brilliant brilliant mind into my cramped little story-box?

No, but really, I have to work this way, which is why I think I’m so incredibly slow when I write fiction. The fiction journey is uniquely terrifying to me. Because you have to have, like, structure, and crap. Whereas on the blog you can blurt out anything and the minute it gets too scary you hit publish and scamper away. And then nice people come and tell you you’re funny. Really, why would I write fiction, when I have that?

8. Where do you write? Home, local cafe, bus stop, toilet, etc.?

Nowadays, only at home. I always hated writing in cafes. I felt guilty that I was using up a perfectly good seat for hours with my one lousy cup of tea; some crazy person would always start talking to me; Janis Joplin would be wailing her guts out over the speakers; inevitably I had to pee but where would I put my laptop when I did that? Would I lose my seat? Cafe writing is for more secure people than myself.

9. Since we don’t officially know each other, this may sound like a goofy question, but how many kids are in your family? How many of each flavor? Are you the oldest/youngest? (I have this theory that “professionally” funny people are either last born or only children). I could be very wrong about this.

Shut up, you goof!

I’m the youngest of three. I have confirmed your theory!

Yesterday a vaguely crazy woman was standing too close and staring at me in the grocery store (Crazy people LOVE ME) and I thought she wanted something that I was standing next to, so I sort of smiled and moved over for her. And she trilled, “Are you the baby?” “Pardon me?” I asked, and she said, “You’re the baby in the family, aren’t you? So considerate. I can tell!” And she was fixing me with her crazy eyes and she said, “And you hate conflict, you’d do anything to avoid it.” As I was backing away from her. She was right, if crazy. On the other hand, does anyone like conflict? Would anyone else just stand there while a crazy person invaded their private space? What was the question again?

10. More media consumption: Do you read anyone for inspiration? Sites? Books? Any movies you could watch over and over again because they always make you laugh?

Oh, god, I read so many blogs that to pull a few out of my giant list seems disingenuous. I also read tons of actual book-type objects for inspiration. My list of favorite authors is so pretentious that you might come over here and slap me. Donald Barthelme, Virginia Woolf, Thomas Pynchon, Mikhail Bulgakov… see? It’s slapping time, isn’t it?

As for movies, I don’t generally “laugh” as you humans might define it, but I do enjoy Mr. Woody Allen. I’m hating myself for these answers. Hating. Myself.

11. Do you have something that you’ve written (published or not), that you thought was hilarious, but no one else did? And you kept trying to explain why it’s funny and they still didn’t get it?

I used to write comedy sketches that were only funny in a way that I could appreciate. In terms of print, I never wrote but had a brilliant idea for a piece about the first draft of Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. It would be the first draft of the final scene, and there would be a lot of exclamation points. Like: “So he’s flying through the air! And there are colors! Zap! More colors! Then boom! He’s in a ROOM!! But there’s an old guy there but oh my god HE’S THE OLD GUY!!! AND THEN OH MY GOD A GIANT BABY!!!!”

I never wrote it but I’m pretty sure it’s brilliant.

12. I’d like to read some of the other stuff you’ve published (like the print stuff....) Can you direct me to that?

You don’t want to read that stuff. Trust me.

If you can track down old copies of Fence magazine, Berkeley Fiction review, and the Rubber Band Society Gazette, knock yourself out! That’s the only stuff I’ve written that’s been at all interesting. I had a great web magazine I used to edit, but it has disappeared from the Internets, poof, gone.

13. This is the part of the interview where I break out my Barbara Walters mask and ask you what kind of tree you are.

Ooh! ooh! Gingko! Except not the female gingko, which has the stinky fruit. Not that one.

14. Coming back to your answer on question #7 for a moment, why do you write? It is for the immediate, mind bending gratification of having the mob love you?

Oh, jeezum crow. No, it’s just because it’s the only thing I can do relatively well. If only you knew how spectacularly I have screwed up at everything else in my life. I’ve basically been considered some sort of semi-savant, who can’t run down the block without breaking a femur but somehow manages to string sentences together.

15. What does it do for your ego/self-esteem to have people react well? Do you have an “aw-shucks, thanks!” self-effacing reaction? Are you secretly vindicated “Yes, they LOVE me! I knew it! All shall bow before me and my genius” Or do you still not believe that you are talented? Do you face the horror of the blank screen and say to yourself, “Oh Lord, they liked what I did yesterday, but I gots me NOTHING today. Help me, baby jebus! I *must* not let them [the unwashed, faceless masses] slip away from me!” Yes, there is a question in there somewhere.

I’m of course immensely gratified that people like my stuff, but really, please don’t think for a minute that I don’t know how many people read my blog and see nothing of any value in it and pass on by. Thankfully those people are (mostly) gracious enough to not share their lack of interest with me. I don’t mean to be overly self-deprecating, but that’s pretty much what I think, all the time. I don’t think my 15 years of therapy did enough. Can I get a refund?

16. See this is the real question for me (this one right here, all those others were just for warm ups): Many people believe that humor is some kind of weird self-defense mechanism. Something about “if I keep things light and funny, no one will try and get to know the real me, the awful person with low self-esteem that I am.” Do you relate to that at all in your writing? Note, I’m sure you aren’t an awful person, but do you sometimes feel like you are hiding behind “the funny?”

It’s a disarming tactic, partly. I think like many writers I’m secretly convinced that I’m no good, have nothing of any significance to say, etc. etc., and the jokes serve to deflect any potential criticism aimed my way. Mostly, though, it’s just fun. I really can’t help myself. It’s how my brain works. The miracle for me is that what I think is funny also seems to be funny to other people.

17. Alternatively, do you think you are funny so people will like you? (OK, I know I essentially asked this already with #14, but I’m just testing you)

No, I think being funny is something I can do, and there’s nothing better than making people laugh. In person, though, my challenge is to shut myself up and not always try to make everyone around me laugh, because that can be alienating. If I have a receptive audience I can really get carried away. I’m aware of how hard I can be to take.

18. One thing I really like about the way you write is that your writing takes sudden, unexpected turns which both delight and amuse. For example: OK… I just perused your archives and I can’t immediately find what I’m talking about. dang it. But it seems to me that sometimes your “jokes” (the funny, outrageous bits you toss in), don’t come in a what we peasants would call a predictable spot. Like this little throw-away line about spooning with Melissa. It’s a funny line. Crap. Now I can’t remember what the question was going to be. But that thing about spooning cracked me up. I’ll remember what the question was eventually. Probably months from now. Expect something from me mid-June.

Yes, you see—you think that’s unexpected, but anyone who knows me knows that I’ve been making jokes about spooning since college. Certain things amuse me, and for some reason the idea of spooning one of my friends is one of them. But it’s new to you! Suckers!

19. I was just reading Heather’s “hate mail” post from the other day. Now this question doesn’t specifically ask a question about your creative “funny” process, but do you get that kind of “hate” mail? It’s been my experience (as a father of 16), that mothers are some of *the* most judgmental types around. You say “Henry did X, so I did Y” and there’s a real possibility that the teeming masses of mothers out there are calling social services on you because of your flagrant, horrible Y-behavior. “What kind of mother does Y? Are you insane? Y has killed kids or at the very least left them developmentally disabled! You are a disgrace with all this Y stuff.” I guess this is where I was really going with my question about anything you shy away from. So! Do you have an internal censor that says, “Easy there, chica… we won’t be saying anything about that.”? (Yes, this is how I really talk and ask questions, I don’t have the benefit of an internal censor).

I don’t get nearly as much hate mail because I’m nowhere near the super-über-phenomenon that the lovely Dooce is. People who hate me rarely write to me directly or even comment on my site. They usually talk about me on their sites. If I find any of the nastier posts, the minute I realize what I’m reading I close the window and run away screaming. What’s especially painful for me is when people criticize my son. I can’t imagine ripping into a preschooler, but apparently he’s fair game to some people. And then I feel guilty for putting him out there; he didn’t ask for it. It leads me to second-guess myself anytime I want to post about him.

20. You don’t swear too often or engage in what I call “burp and fart” humor. Do you stay away from “baser” humor on purpose? Just not find that stuff funny? Some kind of deep seated religious dogma upbringing?

Some people would tell you I swear too much! I do believe I recently used the f-word regarding the weather, Jon. Oh, it was a scandal!

I like the filthiest humor that you could possibly imagine; it’s just not, generally, what occurs to me to write about. My parents are reading, so I shy away from talking about sex too much. (They’re Catholic, and think that I begat Henry by praying to St. Anthony.) Henry is a gold mine of poop and penis humor but I’m sensitive to maybe not wanting to publicize some of the more stunning anecdotes.

21. Do you make yourself laugh? I.E. Do you ever go back and read something you wrote and laugh?

I make myself laugh constantly, sometimes to an embarrassing degree. When it’s something I’ve written, though, there has to be a long enough span of time between when I wrote it and when I’m reading it. Because I think 99.9% of comedy is the sheer surprise of it, and if I can remember what I did, the joke is dead for me. Luckily I have lousy long-term memory.

See? Isn’t she just the bee’s nipples? Don’t you want to wrap her up and invite her over for dinner?

For the record, Alice assures me she was wearing pants during the entire interview process. Apparently this is some kind of record.

Come back in a week or so and I’ll have the interview with Matthew Baldwin of defective yeti up for your enjoyment. More interviews of “funny” writers every week or so after that.

Posted by Jon on 03/21/07 at 12:01 AM

Apparently you don’t understand how I already read TOO MANY weblogs. Yet here you go, adding another one to my list.

Also now I’m trying - and failing - to not think about bee’s nipples.

Posted by Radioactive Jam on 03/21/07 at 08:21 AM
nice to get a peek under the pasties.... :)

I am predisposed to like anything associated with alice, but still. provocative questions; genuine answers. nice interview.

Posted by Kyran on 03/21/07 at 09:29 PM
Nice to see your focusing on humor, we could use a little more of that on the old Triple W. Orcinus rocks, but there’s only so much exposure to that sort of thing you can take.

Posted by michael on 03/22/07 at 05:01 PM
When I grow up I want to be like Alice.

Very good interview.

Posted by Kristen on 03/22/07 at 05:04 PM
Great interview! Thanks for the laugh.

Posted by Amie Needham on 03/22/07 at 08:52 PM
Thanks everyone! She was a great sport about the whole thing.

I’ll be interviewing Mrs. Kennedy in the future as well. Can’t wait to get the “dirt” on their book.

Posted by jon on 03/26/07 at 08:28 AM

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Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Alice Bradley Has More Funny in her Left Pinky Toe than You Have in Your Entire Body

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