Today’s funny gal is Kate Brennan. She is multi talented. Not only does she write on Substack and Medium but she’s an artist, author and has written musicals! For theatre! A girl after my thespian heart. Take that first sip of coffee. Here’s Kate.
If you’re in a partnership, is he or she funny? Was/Is humor a requirement?
My spouse is situational funny if that is a thing. There are things we have laughed about until we weep, but for the life of me, I could not tell you what they were. One involved a very poignant argument about quinoa. He is smart and visionary, immensely creative and an extremely hard worker. All of these qualities are part of my relationships. If I cannot make someone laugh in an encounter, I find it difficult to trust them. Humor is connection. To laugh is such a beautiful thing; to make someone laugh? What a gift.
If you have a funny partner is there ever a joke competition or do you play well off each other?
I have a writing partner named David Lee White. He is a playwright, educator and all around class act theatre artist. We are working on our fifth musical together, our second play, our first novel, and I’ve lost count of the satire articles we’ve published together. I’m really good at chaos; he’s really good at craft. I can have an idea and he can flesh it out, or sometimes he has an idea and we bounce it back and forth and it becomes something extraordinary and unexpected. We both write plenty on our own as well, but having him as a writing partner has been one of the greatest gifts of my career. He challenges me to become a better writer, theatre artist and person.
We text comedy ideas back and forth like teenagers. When we get each other’s voicemails, we improv voicemails to each other. I guess a lot of people build relationships based on communication and interests, but I think I build relationships based on humor. It’s like communicating on a certain wavelength. It’s nice to have company in the chaos.
Did being a jokester ever get in the way of school or work? How?
Well, fortunately, it has become my work. Good thing. Otherwise, I’d be distracted all the time! I started writing plays because I didn't see roles I wanted to play. All my shows are comedies. It felt like a calling emerged where I saw an emptiness. This year I have three premieres, so fortunately, the humor is only fueling the fire. And so far, the fire is keeping everyone warm and not burning the house down.
Can you tell me about a time when you turned something painful into something humorous?
Every. Single. Day. I think most of my humor emerges from frustration or sadness or anger.
Sometimes writing is a way for me to understand the world as in “Definitions of New Platforms for People Who Don’t Understand New Platforms.” It’s like an external conversation with myself in which I work out what is true. I had a voice teacher mentor who once said, “Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I say it.” Sometimes it’s a way to cope as in “How to Have a Better Midlife Crisis.” Sometimes it’s an odd way to show appreciation as in “You Gotta Get Up Early for Our Farmer’s Market."
I think the pursuit of humor is an inherently positive pursuit; it alchemizes grief into joy, frustration into action, anger into understanding.
Can you tell me about a time when you couldn’t muster anything funny and how it affected you? How long did it last? How did you rebound from the unfunny funk?
In May, I wrote this piece that was featured on the Medium homepage for a spell: What if Nothing Is Ever Funny Again? (Here is a friend link for non-members). It’s been months. I still feel this way. Not as acutely, but there is still a distance between me and the humor. Sometimes I feel enveloped in humor and brightness; sometimes I see it, but it feels like there is a shroud between us. I think it comes in waves and recedes like the tide. Nothing is funny; everything is funny. I have always thought the best comedic actors have the capacity to be the best dramatic actors. There is something about going to extremes in comedy that teaches us about sadness; there is something in grief that helps us better understand joy.
Can you describe the type of humor you possess? Clever Wit, quick-with-a-joke, physical, goofball, aggressive, self-enhancing, self-deprecating, dark, observational, or one I didn’t think of?
Pathos. Is pathos a category? Deadpan? Absurd? I am drawn to the work of Paula Vogel, Christopher Durang, Sarah Ruhl. I love the lyricism of The Indigo Girls, Ani DiFranco, and Dessa. Stew’s Passing Strange is the most beautifully-written musical I’ve ever heard. Laurie Anderson, Miranda July, and Ross Gay create magic with their work. I have enormous respect for artists who craft with words. I long for writing that is transcendental. And when it is, it tends to have humor in some way, because it touches on something true.
I don’t know if anyone is actually funny. I think it’s the world that’s funny. We humorists are just able to see it and say, “Hey, has anyone else noticed this?”
If you have kids, when was the first time you made them laugh? Did your kid inherit your comedy skill?
I have a five-year old, so yes. At the same time as a pandemic that forced a major career shift, parenting humor entered my life. During a time of extreme isolation while raising a small human, this humor became a lifeline. A lot of my life is now parenting, and so many of the situations are absurd. “Parent of Multiple Children, You Make Me Feel Incompetent” came directly from a playground experience; “The Children’s Art Project That Broke Me” came directly from the event of the same name. (Non-member link.)
I have written comedies in the theatre for a while, but when I started reading McSweeney’s while breastfeeding, I made it a goal to get published with them. The first piece they accepted (after many a kind rejection) was “Job Posting Assistant Professor of Robotics and Animal Husbandry with a Specialization in Dance.” Since then, I’ve published seven more with them, some co-written with David, many inspired by parenting: “Questions for the CDC in Light of the Omicron Variant from Concerned Parents for the Love of Christ,” “Is It Your First Summer After College or Did Your Toddler Just Become Eligible for the COVID-19 Vaccine?” and “For Safety Reasons, Trick or Treating Will Not Be Held on Halloween This Year.”
Having a child has expanded my humor in many ways, but the most important is this: I am much more willing to share it. I have pulled a human being from my body. What could be more challenging?
What would be the title of your life right now?
Throwing Spaghetti at the Wall
Kate is an artist-educator-creator with work in McSweeney’s, Slackjaw, Belladonna, The Offing, Jane Austen’s Wastebasket, Frazzled & more. Her plays and musicals have been produced across the country. She was named a Jonathan Larson Grant Finalist for Visionaries in Musical Theatre & a Finalist for the Cultural Alliance Innovator Award. Read more of her work on Medium or Substack, or check out her creativity workbook. Need a holiday gift? Look for her new release A is for Anxiety: A Primer for Parenting through the Apocalypse.
Hope you’ll welcome Kate with a comment or question. I’ll start.
How did you get into playwriting?
Do you write the book and the music for your musicals? How do you divide the work with your partner?
Do you find a novel a more challenging medium to co-write?
What a GREAT interview! Their marriage sounds amazing. To have a partner who complements your talents and who you can co-write with is such a gift!