H is for Happy (sigh)

It’s word Wednesday so I posted to Facebook fishing for a word prompt for the letter H. I got Happy. You’re thinking  that’s a good one;  I could write about how to find happiness, who is happy-go-lucky, or what makes for a happy day. But no one wants to read about happy people. Happiness on the verge of disaster is more like it. That’s what people want to read about. Magazines like US, People and the Enquirer capitalize on our need to indulge in the unhappy, misfortune of others. Even the news takes advantage of tragedy. We might connect with the inspirational story as well, particularly if the story involves overcoming some great obstacle, translation some great unhappiness. We feel bad for someone else’s misery, but it ultimately makes us feel better about our own mediocre existence. And it makes for a better story. 

Would you rather read about how:

I love my husband.

I got a big bonus.

I’m a successful actress.

I won the lottery.

I haven’t gained a pound since college.

Or:

Would you rather read about how:

My husband left me for my best friend.

My child tortured a cat and might be a serial killer.

I won the Mega million jackpot but lost my ticket.

I’m allergic to chocolate, ice cream and pizza and still weight 400 pounds.

My dog hates me.

Admit it, you’d rather read from the second list, the list of misery. I’m not saying you can’t be happy for others. I’m not saying you can’t be a happy person overall.  After all, I cry at more happy ending movies than sad ones. I’m saying happiness does not make for a good tale –it’s the challenges and the unhappiness of life that people relate to. We are all looking for our version of happy. It’s the getting there that makes it interesting.