I got nothing.
Well, that’s not exactly true. I’ve got (hold on, lemme check) 60 drafts I could finish, but right now, none of them seem worth wrapping my arms around the cat (the real laptop) so I can work on them for more than 15 minutes. Anyway, I have been thinking I want to tackle writing about humor, and my total inability to write humor. (If you want something funny, try this. See you later. ) All I do know is why I want to write humor.
An awful lot of the stories I like make me laugh. When I’m hanging out with my friends, they make me laugh and I can make them laugh. But when I try to write, everything I put on a page comes out deathly serious. It’s like there’s a piece of me that can’t get out through my fingers and onto the keyboard.
I seem to make small progress when I’m not trying. But when my sense of humor sees the keyboard it runs away screaming like the gingerbread man. “Can’t catch me! Can’t make me!”
And this is where I think, Oh, I’ve personified my problem and now I could go chasing after it and make hijinks ensue. It’s still running, leaping over the table, and under the couch, and serpentining through the dust elephants under the bed, shouting, “No way!” It leaps over the Chrysler building, invents cold fusion, balances the federal budget. “You’re going to make me work!”
Um. Okay. Maybe if I stand here long enough, it will circle the world and smack me on the back of the head.
Nope. I still got nothing.
Writing Every Day 
Work with what you have. If you’re not inclined/able to write humor, don’t write humor. Nothing wrong with that, eh. You can sparkle in person with friends and that’s okay. You don’t need to bubble with “absurd” or “funny” on the printed page.
A few of Emu’s other tips for writing:
1. Success breeds success. Get published. After you achieve “activation energy” your reaction will become self-sustaining.
2. When writing for a magazine, you’re not writing for yourself, or the magazine’s readership. You have an audience of one. That’s the magazine’s submissions reviewer. Write something he or she will buy. Read a few issues of his or her magazine to determine his or her tastes.
3. Your first sale doesn’t have to be a masterpiece over which you sweated blood. Grab some issues of cat magazines and gardening magazines. Read them to get an idea of their content. Then write an article about one of your cats, or an interesting anecdote about your garden. Submit ’em.
4. Don’t fret over rejections. Keep at it.
5. Don’t fret when you submit a great article, get a rejection, then see the magazine print an article on the same subject matter a couple of months later written by one of their staff writers. Okay, go ahead and fret. Life’s not fair, and most of the time it’s not actionable either. Submit your article to their competitor.
8. I’m much better about getting things done when there’s external pressure and external deadlines and a potential reward. Maybe you’re that way too. Maybe not.
7. Pay no attention to attempts at private correspondence from crazed internet fanboys and fangirls.
I don’t need to be wacky on the page. I hate wacky. No, I hold grand ambitions of being mildly amusing.