The Wit and Wisdom Books in Order

The Wit and Wisdom books are a change of pace from David Johnson's novels, but not a change of voice. These are lighter, looser books built out of stories, memories, comic turns, and the kind of observation you get from someone who has spent years listening closely to people. Instead of one long plot, you get a string of pieces that feel like they were shaped first in conversation, then on the page.

That matters.

Johnson has said he grew up around storytellers, and this series feels like the most direct line back to that part of his life. The pieces lean into timing, setup, exaggeration, embarrassment, and the pleasure of a well-landed punch line. Titles like I Didn't Know Donkeys Could Laugh and The Hairy Catfish Caper tell you right away that he is interested in the absurd side of ordinary life. A strange animal, a prank that gets a little bigger than intended, a memory that improves every time it is retold, that is the neighborhood these books live in.

The humor is Southern, small-town, and personal without being mean. Johnson likes the way people talk. He likes the way communities pass along stories until they start to feel half true and half legendary. A joke might begin in an office, a church crowd, a family gathering, or a coffee shop, then keep growing as more people step into it. He understands that some of the funniest stories are really about how badly we want to believe something ridiculous, or how long we can keep from laughing when we know better.

But the series is not just a stack of punch lines.

The word wisdom earns its place because the books also turn toward memory, marriage, faith, aging, work, and the strange little lessons that sneak up on you after the laughter settles down. Johnson writes from the perspective of someone who has been a teacher, minister, counselor, husband, and grandfather. That gives even the lighter pieces a little ballast. He is usually not just telling you what happened. He is also interested in what people reveal when they are startled, proud, gullible, kind, or trying to save face.

That mix makes the books easy to dip in and out of. You can read a piece for the story itself, then notice a sharper human observation sitting underneath it. A prank becomes a look at trust. A childhood or seasonal memory turns into a note about fear, wonder, or family habit. Even a title like A Harrowing Halloween Tale suggests the balance the series likes best, a little suspense, a little mischief, and a storyteller enjoying the room.

If you like essay collections that sound as if somebody is talking to you across a kitchen table or porch rail, this is the lane. Expect warmth, comic timing, and a lot of affection for the messy theater of everyday life.