A punny thing happened . . .

Gail Anderson-Dargatz (a.k.a. Gail Krupp) with me at the Providence Bay Writers' Camp.

Writers are very fun -- and funny -- people.

I loved loved loved my week at writers' camp. We had so much laughter around that table! But the greatest surprise of the entire week was what happened on our last evening together when I lobbed a gentle pun to my classmates (six other writers and our teacher) as we lounged on the patio before doing our public readings (eek!).


No one joined in the punfest. Not a single writer around the table picked up the ball. Only an extremely bright teenager in attendance volleyed.

In fact, one of the writers said that she just loathed puns and insisted that "puns are the lowest form of humour." I was aghast. How could anyone who loves words, who plays with words the way a painter might play with colour, not engage in puns? Some of the brightest people I know engage in puns. Heck, Shakespeare practically invented the pun!

This form of word play has a special place in my heart.

I grew up with a father who played fast and loose with pronunciation (knife = kuh-niff-ee and merci beaucoup = mercy buckets), and with four brothers who considered punning a competitive sport. They were all much older than I, but I tried to play with the big boys, and I got pretty good at it, goddammit!

Ah, well. I have to say, I would've had to stifle yawns if anyone suggested a lively game of chess or bridge. It was a great week, with a talented and inspiring group of writers, pun skills notwithstanding.

In the meantime, here's College Humor's defense of puns. 

On that note, let the pun and games begin!