It cracks me up how earnest my writing is sometimes. It's such a contrast to my outward personality. I can tell you a sad story about my childhood to your face, and by the end we'll both be in tears ... tears of laughter. I tell a sad story from my childhood on paper, and it's just a sad story.

I guess I deal with unpleasant things through humor. Have you ever seen the show Titus? Stacey Keach could be playing my dad. When I talk to people about my dad, it's always laced with humor. Sure, the memories hurt, and there is still a lot of anger, but I have no trouble looking back and laughing about most of it. I do a good imitation of my drunken dad that never fails to crack people up.

When I write about him, though, it always comes across as angry and hurt. Most of my writing is like that. In person I'm nowhere near as straightforward and serious as in my writing. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I'm incapable of writing humor. This could very well be the case, which bites, because I like to be funny.

I think, though, that it's most likely because it's easier to be honest on paper. Honest with myself, and with my audience. I can express myself without irony or sarcasm, something that doesn't come naturally to me in oral conversation.

Or maybe it's just that I'm not nearly as funny in person as I like to think I am.