Foreword
Satire - [sa ti(e)r]
The use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people’s stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues.
Working Titles: A Humor Book That Took the Scenic Route and Clearly Needed a ‘Buddy’ for Restraint.
Welcome aboard.
You’ve just opened Working Titles, Volume One—the first of a series that doesn’t so much follow a plot as it meanders through a landscape of one-panel satirical book covers, each one a roadside attraction on the great highway of absurdity. If traditional books are trains on a schedule, this one’s a convertible that steers like a shopping cart with a bad wheel and an otter in the passenger seat holding the map upside down.
This book began as a sketch series, weekly Tik-Tok shorts of fake non-fiction titles that poked fun at the genre’s never-ending stream of topics to fix issues we didn’t even know there were names for. Titles like How to Win Arguments with Your Houseplants or The Subtle Art of Misplacing Your Confidence—each one a mock-up for a book that’s “in production” but doesn’t really exist, twisting words like a bad fender-bender, and probably shouldn’t be written in the first place. The sketches gained traction, and soon I found myself with a trunk full of witty punchlines and nowhere to park them. Thus, Working Titles was born.
What Are We Even Doing Here?
No book reader will argue: bookstores are magical, quietly sneaky, chaotic places. You walk in looking for one thing and leave with five, none of which were on your list. Non-fiction in particular is a genre that feels like it was curated by someone who just learned what a keyword is. You’ll find titles like The Ranch Called: Breaking Me Inn (you ask yourself, what the heck does that even mean?) or Being Smart in a Relationship with a Dumb Man. Non-fiction is a buffet of self-anointed problem-solvers, kale-flavored self-help, and 200-page fluff pieces that inevitably end up gathering dust on Goodwill shelves nationwide.
Working Titles pulls up a chair to a table on the other side of that restaurant watching, snickering at those full plates of mis-matched literary meals. Or it openly laughs out loud. Each page is a single-panel cover— no footnotes, no captions, no index. Just bite-sized satire, designed to make you laugh, raise an eyebrow, or wonder if someone actually wrote The Gluten-Free Guide to Emotional Boundaries. (They didn’t. Yet.)
The Road So Far
The journey here wasn’t exactly smooth. My early videos looked like they were filmed by a meerkat with a shaky grip and loose understanding of cinematography. Disappointingly, some jokes landed with the impact of a kitten. All told, you’d think these were recorded standing on a small dingy in rough water using a 1983 Sony Betacam. But the audience was kind, the feedback encouraging, and the occasional troll just added texture to the ride. One sketch managed to be played at full volume at a gate in Denver International Airport, causing spontaneous laughter among travelers who probably needed it. Shout out to Colorado. That moment felt like a green light from the universe—or at least a thumbs-up from the TSA.
What Flavor Is This?
The humor style? Think “Quirky Candy.” It’s playful, maybe spicy, unexpected, and occasionally shaped like something you’re not sure is edible. It’s the kind of humor that doesn’t take itself too seriously but still knows how to read a room. It’s that otter riding shotgun, pointing at a detour and saying, “Trust me, this’ll be fun.”
So here we are. You, Me, and a full tank of jokes with a playlist that includes everything from one-hit wonders to motivational whale sounds. We may not know where this road leads, but we’re going to enjoy the ride.
Welcome to Working Titles. Let’s roll.