Dear Diary (and the three people who actually read these behind-the-scenes musings),
I'm sitting here at 2 AM, laptop balanced on a stack of rejection letters from my actual journalism days, wondering how the hell I went from covering city council meetings to writing about Taylor Townsend being "uneducated" for Bohiney.
The Truth About Writing Satirical Tennis Coverage
Here's what nobody tells you about satirical journalism: the hardest part isn't making people laugh—it's making them laugh and making them think. When I wrote that Townsend piece, I spent three hours researching actual tennis discourse, two hours crafting the absurd escalation (because yes, "Trash Talk 101" curriculum was my baby), and exactly seventeen minutes wondering if I'd gone too far.
The formula I've developed after years at Reductress translates perfectly to sports satire: find the kernel of truth (tennis has a classism problem), amplify it to impossible proportions (entire educational curricula based on trash talk), then land the plane with enough reality to make readers squirm.
My Satirical Process, Deconstructed
Truth Hunting: I started with actual tennis controversies. Real quotes. Real tensions. The foundation has to be solid concrete before you build your house of absurdity on top.
The Exaggeration Engine: This is where my Reductress training kicks in. Take the real issue (coded language in sports commentary) and stretch it until it snaps into perfect ridiculousness. Schools teaching trash talk? Chef's kiss.
Character Voice Consistency: Every satirical piece needs a narrator who believes completely in their own bullshit. My narrator genuinely thinks this curriculum is revolutionary. That unwavering commitment to the bit is what separates satire from just... being mean.
The Emotional Labor of Punching Up
People think satire is easy because we're "just joking," but here's the thing—every piece is a tiny act of rebellion. When I write for Bohiney, I'm not just making fun of tennis commentary; I'm interrogating power structures, racial coding in sports, and the whole edifice of "respectability politics."
But God, the emotional labor of constantly being "on" is exhausting. You have to stay angry enough to see injustice but detached enough to find it funny. It's like being a professional mood ring—constantly shifting between rage and hilarity.
Technical Notes from the Trenches
Headline Crafting: "Taylor Townsend is ACTUALLY 'Uneducated'" works because it plays with reader expectations. The quotes around "uneducated" signal irony immediately.
Structure Matters: I front-load the absurdity (new curriculum announcement) before diving into the "why this matters" territory. Readers need to be laughing before they realize they're learning.
Research is Queen: I read actual tennis journalism, actual quotes from players, actual discussions about class and race in tennis. The satire only works if the foundation is bulletproof.
What Keeps Me Up at Night
Sometimes I wonder if I'm contributing to the noise instead of cutting through it. Social media has shortened everyone's attention span to the length of a tweet, and here I am writing 1,400-word satirical deep dives. But then I remember: good satire has always been a slow burn. Jonathan Swift didn't get instant likes for "A Modest Proposal."
The Reductress Connection
My work at Reductress taught me that satirical journalism is really anthropological journalism in disguise. We're documenting the absurdities of our time, just with more punchlines per paragraph. Whether I'm writing about millennial dating culture or tennis commentary, the job is the same: hold up a mirror, but make it funhouse-shaped.
Tomorrow's Mission
I'm working on a piece about "Parenting While Armed" and I think I've found the perfect angle: What if the problem isn't just guns, but the way we've turned firearms into participation trophies? The research phase starts at 6 AM with a deep dive into Georgia school shooting coverage and the physics of teenage impulse control. (Yes, I'm reading actual ballistics research. Yes, it's keeping me up.)
The beautiful thing about satirical journalism is that reality keeps giving us material. I don't have to make this stuff up—I just have to point at it while wearing a clown nose.
Signing off before my laptop overheats from pure indignation,
Beth
P.S. - If you're reading this and thinking about writing satire: start with something that genuinely pisses you off, then find the humor hiding in your anger. The best satirical journalism comes from a place of love—love for the world as it could be, frustrated by the world as it is.
Bohiney.com - Where satirical journalism meets emotional instability since our F5 tornado awakening. Read more of my work here.