The Happy History Of Mad Libs

From Honeymooners to cocktail parties to The Steve Allen Show

By Leonard Stern, Co-Creator of Mad Libs

The creation of Mad Libs is directly linked to my inability to spell “hyperbole” in a 7th grade spelling bee. Humiliated and embarrassed beyond words, I ran home to take refuge in the family dictionary, determined to learn the correct spelling and exact meaning of as many words as humanly possible. The dictionary became my constant companion—my roommate. Even today, it’s by my bedside, and on sleepless nights I make a point of learning at least one new word. Last night it was “orthogonal.”

A “Mad” Beginning

The first sighting of Mad Libs happened in 1953 and remains indelibly etched in my mind. I was in my New York City apartment working on a Jackie Gleason Honeymooners script. Actually, I was sitting and staring at the typewriter (yes, I still use one) searching for the precisely right adjective to describe the nose of Ralph Kramden’s new boss. After wallowing in clichés for thirty minutes, I was ready to throw in the thesaurus when Roger Price, my best friend, fellow word-aholic and the most original thinker I’d ever met—one of a kind of which there was no kind—showed up.

We had planned to do a final polish on our book, What Not to Name the Baby. I apologized to Roger and told him we’d be cracking on the book in a moment. “No we won’t,” he said. “You’re in your idiosyncratic pursuit of a word mode. I could be standing here for hours. Do you want help?” Reluctant as I was to admit I did—I did. I said, “I need an adjective that—,” and before I could further define my need, Roger said, “Clumsy and naked.” I laughed out loud. Roger asked, “What’s so funny?” I told him, thanks to his suggestions, Ralph Kramden now had a boss with a clumsy nose or, if you will, a naked nose.

Roger seldom laughs, but he did this time, confirming we were onto something—but what it was we didn’t know. “Clumsy” and “naked” were appropriately inappropriate adjectives and had led us to an incorrect but intriguing, slightly bizarre juxtaposing of words. Why? A “clumsy nose” indicated nature had failed or there had been a genetic mix-up and an alliterative “naked nose” had the sound of a bestselling mystery novel—I remember feeling, So what?

Then, suddenly and simultaneously, Roger and I realized what had happened. My obsession had produced an unpredictable wedding of words which had resulted in laughter—and a GAME! Abandoning Gleason and the book, we spent the rest of the day writing full-length stories with key words left out. We played the game at a party that night. Hilarity reigned. Everyone thought this nameless game should be published. We agreed, but not until we came up with the right name. “Until” was five years later.

A Mad Lib by Any Other Name

The name “Mad Libs” came to us out of the blue plate special at Sardi’s restaurant in New York in the summer of 1958. At the table next to us, an actor and his agent were having coffee and an argument. From what we couldn’t help but hear, the actor wanted to “ad-lib” an interview; his agent thought it was a “mad” thing to do. Abandoning our eggs Benedict, Roger and I were off and running to a publisher— the same one that had published Roger’s best-selling humor book, In One Head and Out the Other. And within minutes we were in one door and out the other. These good souls didn’t think it was a book but honestly believed it might appeal to a game manufacturer. The game manufacturer in turn thought it was a book and sent us to another book publisher, who didn’t think it was a book!

After we ran out of publishers and game manufacturers within a fifty-mile radius of the city, Roger decided we should publish Mad Libs ourselves. What could it take? You design the book, find a printer, and place the order. So we did just that. It never occurred to us, until the printer called asking where he should deliver the books, that printers didn’t double as warehouses. However, Roger’s large Central Park West apartment could and did. Fourteen-thousand copies of Mad Libs were delivered directly to his dining room, denying my good friend a decent sit-down meal for the three months and 17 days it took us to find a willing, one-time-only distributor.

Becoming the World’s Greatest Word Game

Once Roger and I really believed that books were in the stores (we did that by looking), I arranged a meeting with Steve Allen. In 1958 I was head writer and comedy director for his top rated Sunday night variety television show on NBC. Roger and I suggested to Steve we try Mad Libs as a way of introducing guest stars. Steve, a wordsmith himself, loved the idea of the audience supplying the missing words. We played Mad Libs on the show that very Sunday to introduce our guest, Bob Hope. By Wednesday of the following week the stores were sold out. We needed another printing immediately. Roger held up the order until we could find a delivery destination other than his dining room.

In the early 60s, Larry Sloan, a dear friend from high school who had become equally successful as a journalist and publicist and had always been a grammarian par excellence, joined us as a partner and CEO, and we became the publishing company Price Stern Sloan. Before very long, PSS was the largest publisher on the west coast, with Mad Libs having attained best-seller status.

Mad Libs Today

About 20 years ago, I succumbed to personally promoting the company: I had “Mad Lib” printed on my California license plate. At red lights, with astonishing regularity, I was asked by the driver of the car next to me if I had anything to do with the word game Mad Libs. I would say, “Yes, I co-created it.” And they’d challengingly respond, “No way.” Over time, it became increasingly apparent that no true Mad Libber believed that the game was of recent origin. I think in their heart of hearts they believed the game belonged to the past . . . that it had been around forever—from time immemorial. Eventually, I gave in. I now state emphatically that Moses had it with him to keep the kids amused when they were on the road to Egypt. My red-light friends drive away happy. When Mad Libs sales reached an astonishing 100 million, I ran to Roger’s office to tell him the great news. Roger didn’t speak at first, but when he did he issued a Rogerism that I have quoted continuously over the years. “Well,” he said, “you can fool some of the people some of the time—and that’s enough.”

The Founders

Roger Price (1918-1900), co-creator of Mad Libs, was a highly-acclaimed comedy writer. He started his career writing for Bob Hope on radio, and in the 1940s and 1950s continued to work with Hope in both radio and newspaper. Roger was instrumental in starting a radio program called “The Comedy Writer’s Show.” He also performed in nightclubs and on Broadway, receiving the prestigious Donaldson Award as the most promising newcomer. In the 1950s, he developed his classic Droodles cartoons. In addition to Mad Libs, Roger wrote such humor classics as The Great Roob Revolution and J.G. the Upright Ape.

Leonard Stern, co-creator of Mad Libs, has created, written, directed and produced an unprecedented twenty-three television series. He has won Emmy Awards for The Honeymooners (Jackie Gleason), Sergeant Bilko (Phil Silvers), and Get Smart (Don Adams). He was honored with the prestigious Peabody Award for his writing and directing of The Steve Allen Show. In addition, his theatrical movie writing career includes such films as Abbott and Costello In the Foreign Legion, Abbott and Costello Lost In Alaska, Ma and Pa Kettle Go To Town, The Jazz Singer, and Three for the Money with Jack Lemmon and Betty Grable.

Leonard was president of the Producers Guild of America for 11 years and chairman of the Caucus for Producers, Writers and Directors for four years, receiving the Distinguished Service Award and Member of the Year Awards. Mr. Stern joined the staff of the American Film Institute in 1993 as chairman of the Feature Film and Television Development Program. That same year, he received the Charles Fitzsimons Honorary Lifetime Member Award from the Producers Guild of America. Mad Libs was Leonard Stern’s entry into the world of books. Leonard currently lives in Los Angeles, California.

Larry Sloan was executive editor and CEO of Price Stern Sloan from 1962 to 1993, when the company was sold to Penguin Putnam. Previously, Larry worked as an entertainment reporter, a film and drama critic, a Hollywood correspondent for the London Evening News, and was part of a weekly ABC radio show called Hollywood Byline. In the early 1950s, he became a PR and advertising consultant and worked on a number of large campaigns including the opening of Disneyland and the Las Vegas Sahara Hotel. In the mid 50s, he formed The Sloan Company, which represented a number of film and stage stars (Mae West, Marlene Dietrich, and Carol Channing, among others). His idea for a satire on name-dropping called “The Very Important Desk Diary” was the springboard for the combining of the Price Stern and Sloan companies in 1962. Larry currently lives in Los Angeles, California.