Why write humor?
It's 2026: wouldn't you rather be laughing than doomscrolling?
Welcome to the new year, reader! A year that promises to be much different from the last one — especially if you keep reading this post ;)
On Saturday January 24th, I’m teaching a humor writing class called Laughing at Fear (more info here). I’m sure you’re wondering: “Why this class, Raf? Why now?”
Because almost every time I’ve felt stuck or scared, laughing has been what shakes me out of my fear.
Humor me, and let’s travel back in time…
It all started back in 2008. While the other seniors at my high school were making lifelong memories on sports teams or ducking out of prom to smoke the devil’s lettuce, I labored over Children’s Film Sequels As Imagined by Famous Directors and screamed in my Beanie Baby-filled room when McSweeney's published it.
Being funny on the page became a pleasantly consuming puzzle, way more entertaining than being funny onstage. Sitting at my dorm room desk, I could riff for hours on Post-Apocalyptic American Girl Dolls1 or Socratic dialogues on cable TV. It was so unlike the improv team, where some lacrosse dude named Tim2 could just buzz into the intricate scene I was building and destroy it all by saying, “Let’s go get your bedpan, Janet.”
Writing humor became a refuge. A way of making sense of senseless things, like Travis Kelce. A way of saying, “No, Tim. I don’t care about the rules of improv. I will not go get my bedpan.”
Now, let’s flash back to the future…
Writing humor matters, because we don’t have to keep saying yes, and to misery.
I’ll always remember 2025 as the year the doom began to lift for me. Personal crises, political crises, climatological crises, messages from left, right, and center about how bad things are, how screwed we are, how direly serious it all is.
It’s hard to say what finally did it for me — losing my savings? losing my praxis? — but I started to realize that difficult things are more easily weathered with a healthy dose of the absurd. It’s true what they say about tragedy + time!
Reader, I’ll cut to the chase:
If you subscribe to this newsletter, you’re probably as tired of feeling stuck and scared as I was.
You’re tired of self-censoring and doomscrolling and apologizing and catechizing. It’s a new year, and you’re ready to get some creative work on the goddamn page.
So, come join me in Laughing at Fear t!
We’ll be learning how to write humorous short fiction (1.5k-3k words) with a focus on varieties of satire. In this class, we’ll:
Check out contemporary satirical fiction that breaks down political barriers with whip-smart punchlines: Leigh Stein’s Self-Care, Andrew Boryga’s Victim, Emily Adrian’s Seduction Theory, Amran Gowani’s Leverage.
Explore the differences/commonalities among absurdism, dark comedy, irony, slapstick, and pastiche.
Try writing Juvenalian satires that lampoon what we fear. (Think Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” or this scathingly funny piece about Tiffany’s cancer survivor “celebration” rings by Gila Pfeffer.)
Share what we’ve written + get feedback/support.
Identify where to pitch shorter pieces for publication + how to edit them.
Identify how the synthesis of humor and fear can be used to scaffold longer future projects.
Ready to sign up?
Meeting from 11:00-1:30 PT / 2:00-4:30 ET on 1/24.
Cost is $99 / $89 for yearly paid + Founding subscribers
Zoom link + confirmation will be sent after registration!
Register at this Square payment link, or by sending payment via Venmo.
This class is capped at 8 students, so please register as soon as possible to ensure a spot!
Have any questions? Interested in taking this class but you’re a current student, or otherwise short on funds? Please drop me a line! And if you know anyone else who may be interested in kicking the year off with some humor, share this post with them!
Hope to see you in class :)
Elissa Bassist remains such a real one for publishing this.
Joke’s on me: Tim’s probably an investment banker now.
Ahh...McSweeney's. I remember that time as though it was yesterday. Some absolutely endearing writing emerged from that era. It makes me laugh out loud to this day!
"We don’t have to keep saying 'yes, and' to misery." Put this on some merch, I love it. Here's to 2026!