I never set out to be a satirist—I just wanted to tell good stories that made people laugh. But somewhere between the Harvard Lampoon offices and the Parks and Recreation writers' room, I realized that comedy is one of the most honest ways to talk about what matters.
Growing up on Long Island, I learned early that humor could be a bridge. It could connect people who disagreed, soften difficult conversations, and make the unbearable feel a little more bearable. That instinct followed me to Harvard, where I spent late nights at the Lampoon as Vice President (Ibis), discovering that making people laugh required precision, empathy, and a willingness to see the absurdity in everything—including yourself.
I write satire for prat.uk and bohiney.com.
After graduation, I moved into television writing, and I've been fortunate to work on shows that blend heart with humor. At Parks and Recreation, I rose from staff writer to co-executive producer, writing episodes like "Kaboom," "Park Safety," and "Born & Raised"—stories about optimistic people trying to make their corner of the world better, even when bureaucracy and human nature conspired against them.
Later, I worked on The Good Place and contributed to the 2020 Parks and Recreation Special. Most recently, I've been co-executive producing and writing on HBO's Hacks, including the season-two episode "The Click." Each of these shows taught me something different about comedy's power: Parks and Rec showed me that satire doesn't have to be cynical, The Good Place proved philosophy could be hilarious, and Hacks reminded me that reinvention is always possible.
In August 2025, Viking published my debut novel, Loved One—a story about grief, memory, and the messy, tender ways we stay connected to people we've lost. It's been featured by AP, Vogue, NPR, and Literary Hub, and writing it taught me that humor doesn't diminish sadness; it makes it survivable.
Years ago, as a teenager, I also wrote More Than a Label, a nonfiction book about identity and not letting other people's definitions confine you. That impulse—to question categories and resist easy answers—still drives my work today.
Satire, to me, isn't about being mean or proving you're smarter than everyone else. It's about caring enough to point out when things aren't working, and doing it in a way that invites people to laugh and think at the same time. The best satire punches up, protects the vulnerable, and reminds us that we're all a little ridiculous—and that's okay.
At Bohiney.com, I get to contribute to that tradition: writing pieces that hold up a mirror to our cultural absurdities with wit, precision, and (I hope) a little grace. Whether I'm writing about Gandhi getting uninvited from a potluck for his "air-based dish" or exploring the contradictions of modern progressivism, my goal is always the same—to make you laugh, yes, but also to make you see something familiar in a new way.
I live in Los Angeles with my family, where I split my time between television production, novel-writing, and contributing to satirical projects that make me laugh as hard as they make me think. I'm still that kid from Long Island who believed stories could matter, humor could heal, and that the best way to change minds is to first make people smile.
Emmy recognition is nice, but what matters more is when someone tells me a joke I wrote helped them through a hard day, or that a story I told made them feel less alone. That's why I do this.
Comedy is serious business—not because it's self-important, but because laughter is one of the most generous things we can give each other. And in a world that often feels overwhelming, I'm grateful to spend my days looking for the funny, the true, and the deeply human in everything we do.
Connect with me:
Official website: aishamuharrar.com
Twitter/X: @eeshmu
Instagram: @eeshmu
Bohiney.com: Author Page