Writing Obituaries That Actually Get a Laugh
Funny obituaries are harder to write than people think. Most of them land somewhere between cringe and offensive, which is why a lot of families just go with the standard template. But when it works, it works really well. I've spent years reading through death notice submissions and newspaper archives, and there's a real skill to doing it right. The best ones share a few structural traits. They open with the basic facts — name, age, date of passing — then pivot into something that sounds like a normal eulogy before subverting it. The humor comes from specificity, not exaggeration. Saying someone "collected over four hundred plastic spoon forms from dive restaurants" hits different than saying someone "had a weird hobby." Here's what most writers get wrong about the format. They try to make the entire obituary a joke. That's where it falls apart. The dead are still dead. The audience includes people who are grieving. You get one or two solid punchlines, maybe three if the subject earned it, then you let the piece breathe.
How to Actually Write One
Start by gathering material before you touch a keyboard. I've seen too many people try to write funny obituaries from memory or vague impressions. It doesn't work. Talk to at least three people who knew the deceased. Ask for specific stories, not general character descriptions. "He was nice" is useless. "He once convinced an entire HOA meeting that his prize-winning zucchinis were actually a rare ornamental squash variety" is material. The hardest part is tonal calibration. You need enough warmth that the humor feels like love, not mockery. A good test is whether the deceased would have laughed at it themselves. If the answer is no or maybe, you've crossed a line somewhere. Structure matters more than most writers admit. Here's the pattern that consistently works:
Brief factual opening. Survival of immediate family members. One or two substantive paragraphs of biographical detail. The humorous section. A final warm closing statement. Services information at the end. The comedic beats should sit in the middle section, sandwiched between genuine content. If you lead with jokes, it reads like a parody. If you bury humor at the end, it undercuts the emotional weight. The center is where they land best.
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Common Pitfalls
Dark humor has a very small window in obituary writing. One missed note and you're the family member people blame for everything. Self-deprecating jokes about the deceased rarely work unless they're clearly affectionate and the subject was known for being self-aware. "He died before he could finish his collection of novelty socks" reads as sweet. "He finally escaped his wife's knitting" reads as cruel, even if it's technically true. Religion is another minefield. Some families expect a solemn tone and will reject anything funny outright. You need to know your audience before you draft. When I worked on a piece for a guy whose family wanted jokes included, we spent three rounds going back and forth on whether a particular story about his golf handicap was too mean-spirited. We kept it, but we phrased it carefully. It ran as printed and his sister still called me about it six months later. Word count is a practical constraint nobody talks about. Most newspapers charge by the line or the word. Funny obituaries tend to run longer because jokes need setup. This means either paying more or cutting aggressively. I learned to write tight because my own costs added up fast. A solid funny obit usually runs between 200 and 400 words. Beyond that, you're asking the reader to commit to a stand-up set at a funeral.
Another issue is originality. A lot of the "hilarious obituaries" you see online are recycled templates. The dancing goat one has been submitted at least forty-seven times since 2014. The cat that outlived its owner by six months is apparently a genre now. Use real details. They always beat borrowed jokes.
What to Avoid Completely
Political commentary in an obituary is almost never worth it. Even mild jabs at current events age poorly and alienate readers who otherwise might have appreciated the humor. Ex-partners and disputed family matters belong in court filings, not death notices. And please, for the love of god, do not include quotes from the deceased that you made up. I once read an obituary attributing a sarcastic one-liner to someone who was genuinely stoic and reserved. Their actual children were furious, and rightfully so. If you can't find a genuinely funny angle after researching the person's life, write a normal obituary. There's no requirement to be humorous. A well-written standard notice serves everyone better than a forced comedy routine.
Submission Process
Most local papers have online submission forms. You'll need to verify you're an authorized family member or editor. Some outlets run a preliminary review before publishing, which can take anywhere from a day to a week. Others publish immediately and deal with complaints retroactively. Check their policy beforehand. Online memorial sites operate differently. They're less constrained by space and cost, which means more room for humor, but also less editorial oversight. A funny obit on Legacy.com or Tombstoneguru will reach a different audience than one in the local paper. Factor that into your tone choices. The obituary business itself has shifted a lot. Print circulation keeps shrinking, which means obituaries increasingly live on hospital and funeral home websites first, then get syndicated. That changes the audience mix considerably. Your joking tone needs to survive the transition from a physical newspaper to a Facebook share with no context.
If you want examples of this done well, newspaper archives from the UK tend to have stronger traditions of humorous death notices than American papers. The Guardian's obituary section routinely publishes genuinely funny pieces that also happen to be deeply moving. That's the balance you're aiming for.
