Limited Demographic: Canadians

In late 2014, in a commanding, condemning voice that brooked no argument, a devastating edict was handed down from up on high CanLit Mountain:

“It seems to me that laughter is too easy a way to face the ‘wilderness of this world’; you can too easily laugh yourself past the difficulties. Laughter is not a way to understand; it is, basically, a method of elusion.”

These are the measured and insightful words of Governor General’s Award-winning novelist Rudy Wiebe, settling once and for all the debate as to where “comedy” should be placed on the scale of literary importance; beneath the righteous bootheels of true Canadian literati. Mucking about in the dirt and slop. Cavorting with earthworms and mole people.

Balderdash, we say! Bunkum! Hogwash! Balls to that! And so forth.

GlassesThe concept of “comedy” has existed ever since an amoeba tickled the cilia of a nearby paramecium. Since a caveman tried to market the square wheel. Since Eve told Adam she was a little peckish that afternoon. Since Stephen Harper used the words, “Trust me.”

Yes, we all may feign distaste at the juvenile antics of the clown, the comedian, the jokester. Yet on every list of what Canadians look for in a mate, a sense of humour always tops the list (or at least comes in a strong fourth, after looks, money, and body odour). Think about that.

So let us forcefully respond to this challenge as forcefully as Canadians can: by politely proving the esteemed Mr. Wiebe wrong. Or, at the very least, laughing our way past this snobby judgment.

Let’s not so politely remind this nation how damned funny its artists can be. The time is ripe to bear witness to the diversity of Canadian writers who mine laughter from Wiebe’s darkness through prose that would make Stephen Leacock blush, spin in his grave, and rethink his career choices. Let’s reclaim the concept of “Canuckian wit” from reruns of Corner Gas and Red Green and Wayne and Shuster and Danger Bay.

We are a funny people. We are a funny country. We voted Rob Ford into office.

Who can dare say we don’t know funny?


We are specifically seeking short works written by Canadians. Submissions can be on any topic you want, so long as the end result falls within the definition of “Hey, that’s funny.” No topic is taboo; no target is safe. Comedy being a necessarily subjective genre, we’re looking to cast the widest possible net. We will take all stories at face value. The final set should run the gamut of genres and styles, encapsulating the many forms humour may take. Texts of subtle wit will contrast with bawdy humour, giggles will compete with guffaws, gutbusters will share space with others that make you stroke your chin and offer up a mild “Hmm…good one.” The book as a whole will be a meeting of multiple styles united under the genre of comedy, a meeting place for the wittiest dreamers across the whole spectrum of CanLit. We want this book to showcase as broad a diversity of Canadian writers as possible in terms of location, background, race, gender, genre, experience, and more.