From the Thurber Prize-winning author of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker comes a pioneering collection of Black humor from some of the most acclaimed writers and performers at work today
A critic explores the paradox of finding community in “the dozens” while grieving. A violent town ritual causes an all-too-familiar moral panic. An email thread between friends on why we need an updated Green Book but for public toilets. All across the nation, “Karens” become illegal overnight. These are just a few of the hilarious worlds contained in Damon Young’s groundbreaking anthology featuring the best, funniest, and Blackest essays, short stories, letters, and rants.
With words that roast, ignite, and burn while connecting to and coalescing around a singular thesis, That's How They Get You emphasizes how and why Black American humor is uniquely transfixing. This is a mixture of not just observational anxieties and stream-of-consciousness lucidities but also acute political clarity about America. Edited and with an introduction by Damon Young, the critically acclaimed author of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker, the collection features new material from an all-star roster of contributors, including Hanif Abdurraqib, Mahogany L. Browne, Wyatt Cenac, Kiese Laymon, Deesha Philyaw, Roy Wood Jr., and Nicola Yoon.
Born and raised in Baltimore, MD, Damon Young earned a Computer Science degree from Princeton University and began his career as an IT consultant. But, as a child who transformed his fascination with an old family typewriter into a life-long writing vocation, he's long nurtured a love of horror, sci-fi, and fantasy storytelling. This ultimately led him to pursue a Masters in Screenwriting from the American Film Institute. He has been a quarterfinalist for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences' Nicholl Scholarship in Screenwriting and recently won the Best Short Film award for his directing work from StayTunedTV.net. A prolific author in multiple mediums, Damon has been writing on his blog, Macroscope, since 2002. He currently resides in Los Angeles.
A collection of funny stories, essays and rantsdesigned to bring a smile to your face and Damon Young has certainly succeeded in doing that. There are some laugh out VERY loud entries in this mostly Black humor hits group, but a few misses, but you’ll probably being laughing so hard from the hits that you’ll be unfazed by the misses. ‘The Karen Rights Act’ and ‘Unmurdered In Grandma’s Kitchen’ were standouts for me. Do yourself a favor and open up to some humor in your reading time!
I enjoyed reading this collection; it was decent. Most of the writings were good; a few were laugh-out-loud funny. I was hoping there would be more of the latter. My favorites were by the writers whom I had read before, like Damon Young, Mateo Askaripour, Kiese Laymon, D Watkins, Wyatt Cenac, Michael Harriot, and Deesha Philyaw.
Smart, moving collection that uses comedy as a lens to explore the full spectrum of Black life. From laugh-out-loud satire to essays that hit closer to grief and identity, it’s less about jokes and more about highlighting the Black experience.
I found some pieces sharper or funnier than others (par for the course with anthologies), but the range of voices and perspectives kept me engaged. I do think the title leans a little too hard on “humor”—many essays felt more reflective than comedic—but that didn’t take away from the experience.
I’ve been on a funny essay tangent lately, so I decided to give this new collection a try. Mixed bag, but I enjoyed the Brian Broome, Kiese Laymon, and Deesha Philyaw pieces the best.
This was a really fun bunch of humorous essays about the black experience. I struggled a little bit with a few of them because the entries would go from engaging and fun but swimming on the shallower side of things to essays that were so densely metaphorical that I had no idea what I was meant to take away or what they were about. Overall, an engaging and fun collection from some excellent writers.
The introduction to this book had me thinking that I’d love it. Damon Young shared a funny story that was especially personal to me because I grew up in the same neighborhood as him. As I got further into the book, some of the stories were really entertaining. A few were laugh out funny. Some just felt very relatable. Unfortunately there was just as many if not more essays that were a huge miss for me. They weren’t funny or entertaining. They threw off the rhythm of the book for me. I do think everyone can find something in this book that really speaks to them.
this was the perfect mix of essays that were laugh-out-loud funny (“how to shit in west virginia…,” “group chat,” “the karen rights act” and “an oral history of the holy ghost”), essays that were ironically funny, essays where you laugh to keep from crying, essays of affirmations, essays of grief and essays that explore Black joy and laughter as a form of protest and resistance.
i was mostly interested in this anthology because of hanif abdurraqib's contribution. unfortunately nobody told me that contribution was only three pages long...quite disappointing.
of this anthology, my favorites were definitely hanif's "no one makes 'yo mama' jokes after the funeral," "the karen rights act" by mateo askaripour, and "who cries in waffle house?' by ashon crawley
The comedic standouts include, but are not limited to, "The Karen Rights Act," "Mulatto Pride Turbo Boost," "You Gonna Get These Teeth," and "The Jackie Robinson Society." Dramatic standouts, meanwhile, include "Tenderheaded" and "Who Cries in Waffle House?" But there's no weak essay in the bunch here. This is a winning collection all around.
All the stories are really funny and clever but my favorite by far was An Oral History of the Holy Ghost. Shout out end of summer Carnegie Library book festival
Some of the narrators were a little challenging to listen to as an audiobook but overall a fun compilation of stories. The Karen story was hilarious and by far my favorite!
I've been a fan of Damon Young ever since he ran the funny, engaging blog Very Smart Brothas (before it was bought and sadly run into the ground under the Gawker network) and his voice is sharp and hilarious as always here. It made me wish his writing made up more of the book since a lot of the other pieces were not as funny or insightful. There's a wide variety of essays from a range of talented folks though so any reader should find a least a couple pieces they enjoy.
That’s How They Get You is not a book you read so much as a world you step into, one essay at a time, a curated carnival of wit, absurdity, observation, and relentless intelligence. Damon Young, as editor and occasional participant, sets the stage with the clarity of someone who knows both the weight of Black life and the levity of Black humor. From the first chapter, you’re introduced to the paradox of laughter and grief, of wit and survival, in Hanif Abdurraqib’s reflection on the dozens. It is a lesson in how humor can carry the dead weight of memory and loss, how a verbal sparring match in the schoolyard can serve as both armor and lifeline. There is tenderness here, yes, but there is also skill—an acknowledgment that humor is not accidental; it is cultivated, strategic, necessary.
As you turn the page, you encounter the kaleidoscope of approaches and voices. Jill Louise Busby’s “The Couple” situates us in the pixelated intimacy of social media, a space that is simultaneously communal and isolating. Through the lens of Instagram, we learn how proximity can be manufactured and closeness negotiated from afar, with humor as the adhesive binding digital observation to lived experience. Mateo Askaripour’s chapters on Karens push us into absurdist dystopia, a world where entitlement meets legislative fantasy. The laughter is sharp-edged, almost theatrical in its exaggeration, yet beneath the satire lies a recognition of power, privilege, and the absurdities that stem from both.
Damon Young’s own essays, particularly “You Gonna Get These Teeth” and “Email From the Future”, are masterclasses in blending the deeply personal with cultural observation. In the former, Young turns something as mundane and intimate as dental anxiety into a meditation on shame, masculinity, and performance. The phrase “YOU GONNA GET THESE TEETH” resonates as both defiance and affirmation, a rallying cry that transforms vulnerability into comedic empowerment. In the latter, the future becomes a canvas for humor to collide with imagination, offering absurdity and critique in equal measure, reminding us that Black humor is capable of spanning time, form, and expectation simultaneously.
Kiese Laymon’s contributions, especially “How to Shit in West Virginia at Night: But for ******?” and “Letters From Home”, embody the anthology’s oscillation between dark humor and profound reflection. Laymon confronts the realities of racial vulnerability in spaces that are ostensibly ordinary, reframing anxiety as absurdity, tension as comedy, survival as narrative. In “Letters From Home”, the collection closes with warmth, nostalgia, and the layered complexities of family and memory. Humor is ever-present, but it is tempered by recognition—an acknowledgment that laughter does not erase risk, history, or pain; it mediates them.
Other contributors extend this terrain further. Mahogany L. Browne’s declaration that “You Ain’t Killing That Shit Until a Black Woman Say So” captures authority, cultural literacy, and social negotiation with blunt comedic force. Nicola Yoon reflects on representation in ways that are playful yet piercing, examining the absurdity of scarcity in childhood imagination while celebrating resourcefulness and identity. Wyatt Cenac situates philosophy around the kitchen table, finding comedy in domestic discourse, while Roy Wood Jr. negotiates fatherhood, societal expectation, and racial perception with a mix of charm and pointed observation.
Alexander Hardy, Clover Hope, and Brian Broome demonstrate that humor is elastic: it stretches across family kitchens, diner booths, musical landscapes, and intimate personal anxieties. Hardy’s darkly comedic engagement with vulnerability in “Unmurdered in Grandma’s Kitchen” juxtaposes tenderness and absurdity. Hope’s musical musings in “Dancing in the Dark” are playful, rhythmic, and culturally reverent, illustrating how Black humor is intertwined with cultural literacy and artistic interpretation. Broome’s “Tenderheaded” reminds us that identity, pride, and cultural inheritance can be navigated through humor, and that something as everyday as hair carries with it both care and social consequence.
The anthology also interrogates the social, political, and systemic with satirical dexterity. Askaripour and Scott exaggerate social hierarchies and collective anxieties, turning moral panic into theater, entitlement into absurdity. Saida Grundy and Damon Young’s modern Green Book for public bathrooms bridges historical legacy with contemporary experience, emphasizing how humor can be a guide for survival, a ledger of observation, and a mechanism for community-building. These pieces, alongside Laymon’s playful but pointed guidance on navigating public spaces, reflect the anthology’s acute awareness of humor’s social function—it is never purely entertainment; it is reflection, instruction, critique, and communion.
Across these 24 essays, a throughline emerges: Black humor is both intensely personal and inherently communal. It is a mechanism for survival, a tool for critique, and a vehicle for connection. The anthology demonstrates that humor can simultaneously entertain, educate, and interrogate. Contributors leverage absurdity, exaggeration, observational acuity, and narrative innovation to explore grief, identity, societal expectation, and cultural authority. The prose is inventive, playful, and often self-aware, capturing the rhythm of speech, the cadence of thought, and the dynamics of culture with fidelity.
That’s How They Get You is not without its unevenness. Some essays land with more immediacy than others; some humor resonates more deeply depending on personal experience and cultural literacy. But even within those moments, there is value—the anthology’s willingness to experiment, to take risks with form, voice, and perspective, demonstrates a courage that mirrors its thematic concerns. Humor, after all, is a negotiation; not every joke lands universally, but every attempt speaks to observation, critique, and identity.
In sum, Damon Young has curated a collection that is vibrant, reflective, and wide-ranging. The anthology honors the breadth of Black American humor—from intimate self-reflection to absurdist dystopia, from social critique to musical observation, from family kitchens to public bathrooms. It is a celebration of wit, insight, and lived experience, an acknowledgment that humor can be instructive, transformative, and revelatory. Every contributor engages with the complexity of Black life in America, wielding humor as both shield and lens, as solace and weapon, as commentary and connective tissue. The anthology leaves readers laughing, reflecting, and recognizing the intelligence, nuance, and resilience embedded in each essay.
This was enjoyable, although I found some of the essays... out of place? I didn't like all of them. I did like all the email responses to "Racism is Really Bad", and I hope they were not real responses, but they might have been. My favorite essays were "The Karen Rights Act" and "You Ain't Killing that Shit Until a Black Woman Say So".
Damon Young nails it in the intro, that the diversity of voices contain all the "peculiarite and idiosyncrasies" of the overstimulated and hyperactive writers of these writers (page xv0. It's not just a Larry David thing, or Woody Allen thing .. Young loves these these brillaint Jewish voices that have helped shaped the American lineage of comedy. But that's not the whole story. Can we imagine American comedy without Chris Rock, Richrad Pryor, Dave Chapelle, Patrice O'Neal, Kenan Thompon, Eddie Murphy? Many of these writers were new to me, but deliver unqiue perspectives with humor that ranges from heartfelt, to whimzy, to caustic to absurd.
The hit ratio is pretty high on anthology of Black humorists "That's How they Get You". It's hard to put a new on what pulls all these pieces togther, but for me the slice-of-life stories ripped me open the most. "Baby Wipes" by D. Watkins is just a sensory thrill fest - I love young father stories, and this one ties in all those little moments of early fatherhood with connections to our ancestry. I'm sure that having an infant close in age to Watkins, at the time of his writing, is a huge reason why it resonated with me - but it's solid irregardless. "Love and Water" by Ladan Osman just flows beautifully and tenderly; having pulled the ripchord on her marriage, Young explore sthe lessons of dating in the post-smartphone era with it's intimacies and insanites.
There are some huge bellyrippers. "Crowd Work" by Roy Wood Jr. is like a tight-five set beautifully laid out - and has a vulgar zinger that just says with you. "How to Sh*t in West Virginia at Nigh: But for N*ggas" by Kiese Laymon has a call/response email thread about sensitive stomaches and impudency of youth. "The Karne Rights Act" by Mateo Askaripour had me at peak-cringe with microaggressions and maximized results - I think I had one ad a half eyes closed when reading it, but it bluntly got the point across.
Some of my favorite moments were Clover Hope's "Dancing in the Dark" with setup of Michael Jackson and Janet Jackson's brilliant "Scream" music video" - a music video from the MTV imperial era, I just love. Hope delivers on her experience of movement, black joy, 90s golden era hip-hop, and learning to let herslf be visible. "Tenderheaded" code-switching of a young gay introvert in a traditional black barbershop just took me to the foor. I loved Brian Broome's worldbuilding of sharp razors, hypermasculien musk and his inner conflicts manifested in controlled chairs. The ending is a NFL kicker too - just a beautiful way to end a story. Wyatt Cenac's "The Jackie Robinson Society" hits its targets with a caustic tone alongside some absurdist hilarity - it's a brutal but insightful inditment of gatekeeping to white society. Damon Young interspereses some hilarious and straight-up crazy emails to seperate these stories - they are some of the funninest and wild stuff in the book - it gave me a good insight into Young's ability to find humor in the most bitter racurous words.
Some like Joseph Earl Thomas's 'The Gorilla" confounded me, but thrilled me - I loved the passionate writing and videogame-esque violence. Nicola Yoon's "We Don't Make Princesses in Those Colors" is punchy, flush with anger and a beautifully grounded experience that reminds me how all parents are ready to flip that switch for their child. Yoon delivers with economy a wild build up and delivery of a child's party gone wrong. "The Necessary Changes Have Been Made" by Nafissa Thompson-Spires that mixes sexual tension alongside ivy tower competition. It's like a Phillip Roth story with some leveling humor mixed in.
All and all - really worth your time. Shame on me for not knowing these authors better, but I am glad to be getitng caught up a bit.
Mostly hits and a few misses, pretty good for an anthology. I've read and liked about 30% of the authors here. They delivered. Many of the rest will either be added to my to-read list or moved up in priority.
Every piece in here is very short, none longer than 15-20 minutes, and a couple are just a few minutes long. I listened to the audiobook, and would listen to one or two most days. I think that's the way to do it so the laughs can be stretched out over more days. I often found myself wanting to ponder over a piece before moving on anyway. I made the other people in this house listen to more than a few of them.
I am a middle aged white lady American, and my favorite piece was Mateo Askaripour's "The Karens Rights Act", for whatever that is worth, followed closely by an actual group text about American Presidents who have black sounding names. Clearly, I should have read Askaripour's debut book when Colson Whitehead said so. Alexander Hardy's piece about his grandmother and cooking hit home and made me miss the grandma who couldn't even let us make a bowl of cereal in her kitchen without making sure we were doing it right. Not being able to get Grandma to give you the recipes for her master creations because there aren't any? Begging for years for her to just show you because she just doesn't have the patience or time to be fooling with you because she has a lot of people to feed? And then finally wearing her down, laughing about her secret tricks to perfection (his grandma ate the ugly ones herself; my grandma used a drop of yellow food coloring) and mastering them yourself? I think lots of us can relate to that one especially, and even more so for those of us whose grandmas are gone. Brian Broome being Brian Broome. Damon Young showing me once again what is was like to be a young black man at the same time and in the same place (literally, the same neighborhoods) I was being a young white woman. Stories involving painful things many of us experience, like miscarriage and loving a flawed parent, and many of us don't, like racism and poverty, that don't sound like they can be funny, but some can find humor in the hardest of things, offer new perspectives, and that can help others. I could go on. Read it. Think. Laugh.
📖 That's How They Get You: An Unruly Anthology of Black American Humor ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️☆
Thank you to Knopf for the ARC!
A groundbreaking collection of humor that cuts deep, burns bright, and leaves you laughing while thinking.
Edited by Damon Young, That’s How They Get You is more than just a humor anthology—it’s a sharp, unapologetic, and utterly engaging exploration of Black American life through comedy. Featuring a powerhouse lineup of contributors, from Hanif Abdurraqib to Roy Wood Jr., these essays and stories dive into everything from grief and community to viral Karens and public bathroom survival guides. Some are absurd, some are painfully real, but all showcase the uniquely brilliant way humor can be used as both a shield and a sword.
🔥 What I Loved: ✔ A variety of voices & styles – From satire to social commentary, no two pieces felt the same. ✔ The “Karen Rights Act” – An instant favorite, both hilarious and scarily plausible. ✔ “You Ain’t Killing That Shit Until a Black Woman Say So” – A must-read essay that had me nodding along. ✔ Razor-sharp wit – It’s not just funny—it’s> smart, and the best pieces made me laugh and think.
⚠️ What Didn’t Hit as Hard: ◼ A few essays felt out of place – Some pieces didn’t land as well as others, making the collection feel uneven. ◼ Not every piece resonated – While some essays stuck with me, others were forgettable.
✨ What to Expect: ⟢ Essays, satire, and short stories that blend humor with social critique ⟢ Unfiltered commentary on race, culture, and American absurdities ⟢ A mix of LOL moments and deep, thought-provoking truths
That’s How They Get You is an anthology that does exactly what great comedy should—it entertains, provokes, and challenges. While not every essay was a hit for me, the ones that landed were phenomenal, making this a must-read for anyone who loves humor with a bite.
I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Happy belated pub day to everyone involved in making this book!! Thank you Pantheon and Penguin Random House for the advanced copy in exchange for my review. I had just finished reading a disturbing book and then saw a scary movie back to back so I was really happy to break up the stress with this one. I brought this on a boat trip and read the first essay out loud to my mom, who took this photo and also gives it a thumbs up ☀️
This collection both sheds light on and makes light of many aspects of the Black American experience through contributions from a variety of talented writers. I already really like several of the people who contributed to this one. Hanif Abdurraqib opens with a well-balanced humorous meditation on Mom Grief (ouch) and Deesha Philyaw wraps it up with a quirky epistolary story in the form of a group chat between a mom and her two daughters. There’s also a piece by Kiese Laymon and then a lot of new names I had not read before but enjoyed, such as Ashon Crawley (Who Cries in Waffle House?) and Mahogany L. Browne (You Ain’t Killing That Shit Until a Black Woman Say So). The editor, Damon Young, also contributes several pieces which I am a fan of and want to read more of!!
Since this is an anthology, your mileage may vary, but you have nothing to lose; each contribution is so short which makes for good single-sitting reads and helps you look forward to the next essay/story coming soon after. Check this one out!
This is an anthology of fiction and essays by a variety of Black writers and comedians. They cover instances in childhood and adulthood where humor helped them through something, or that they can look back on with humor. They cover the complexities of growing up predominately white areas, having difficult parents, being a Black parent, being a Black comedian, having a miscarriage and more. There’s also odes to Black culture, such as Black names and how Black women lift each other up.
Like a lot of anthologies, it was a mixed bag. I was expecting a lot more humor, but it was a lot of deeply emotional insights on trauma. I definitely think this is a book where you could pick it up and sort of snack on the different stories.
Nice selection of essays/stories. Nice variety of subject matter. I had never heard of this author prior, but I will be looking for him again. I found myself getting done what was ahead of me for the day to pick this book back up and continue reading. Some of the stories will resonant with the reader, maybe due to similar situations, which I feel adds something to the essays. Thank you for sharing with us. Thanks to NetGalley, the author and the publisher for the ARC of this book. Receiving the book in this manner, had no bearing on this review.
An amazingly beautiful work of literature. I was intrigued by the premise of Black Humor., specifically blackness as a lens for understanding and doing life. As an educator, there were so many works I could put in conversation with larger works of fiction and film.
Damon Young has edited a soon to be classic text with so many lessons on life, death, love, parenting and family. Young’s intro that posits humor as a byproduct of genius and this is proven in each essay.
I loved this book (as much as you can love a book, lol)!
Thanks to NetGalley and Pantheon books for the arc.
As a whole, I give this book 5 stars. There are stories in here that I will not soon forget—Dead Mom, Teeth, Presidents Names. These are towards the beginning, and unfortunately, by the time I hit the end, I was ready to read a novel vs stories, so that may have impacted my perception of the others.
But as a whole, this book was so important. I love humor tinged with sadness—what is life, if not that—and the experience of reading so many Black stories felt important to the cannon, and also to my learning.
I enjoyed the variety, in tone, subject matter, and writing styles. My only criticism is the title introducing the pieces as "Humor" vs. something more akin to "Experience." Many of the essays were funny in a multitude of ways - from side-splitting tears to almost sad irony. A few, however, didn't strike me as really humorous, so I think my expectations were a little skewed by the title. Nevertheless, a wonderful collection and a great read. It was certainly a treat to receive the advance copy.
While I went into this with the appropriate understanding that I might not have been the primary audience, I nonetheless came out of it pretty disappointed. With the exception of maybe 3-4 essays, there didn’t even seem to be much *attempt* at humor. Tragic, given the richness of what comic craft in general owes to Black genius.
Mostly, there was a lot of quaint reflection. On its own terms, interesting, insightful — even moving, at points. But not humor.
I flipped around a lot so I'm not sure I got to EVERY essay but I enjoyed most of what I got to. Lots of variety: straight up comedic short stories, essays on growing up black or mixed race, hyperbolic stories of stereotypes, emails and text threads, enraging microaggressions that don't have much comedy to pull out, and one surreal story by Joseph Earl Thomas that I want to understand but I'm not sure if it's a metaphor or not lol. Kudos to Damon Young for pulling this group of essays together.
insane range in these stories. goes from a personal memoir to a series of texts to gory thriller. enjoyed very much
favs: everything by damon young (including the intro which was hilarious and insightful) the jackie robinson society how to shit in west virginia at night dancing in the dark can a bitch just have a miscarriage in peace?
omg this collection frickin ROCKS. there was maybe just one or two stories in this collection that I didn't adore and while I'm probably not the target audience for a lot of this humor, I felt enriched reading it and loved the different perspectives and layers of themes explored, humorously but also sometimes really poignantly. 4.5 rounded up~
Excellent anthology of contemporary Black American humor by a wide variety of contributors, from literary authors to standup comics, and willingness to use experimental forms to deliver the laughs (and insights), including email chains and the editor's own essay of a single pages-long sentence (about his sparkling new dental work).