Zen And The Art Of Writing A Stand-Up Comedy Bit

Before diving in, a note: In light of all the truly awful things happening in the world, I wondered if it was flippant to write about stand-up comedy. But then I remembered how comedy and tragedy have gone hand in hand since forever, each shining a light on the other. And how Ali Wong said that comedy is about making people laugh with integrity…

It all boils down to this: Let go of attachment to funny. Let the funny find you.

Step 1: Take a theme, any theme. Traffic, relationships, food. For this example, let’s go with “interactions with strangers.” Think about a time when you had an interaction with a stranger. Write down everything you can remember about that interaction. The number one rule at this stage is, do not try to find the funny or be funny. If you do, you’re almost certain to fail. Think of this a factual, documentary step.

Step 2: Look at what you’ve scribbled. Breathe. Notice what’s odd and contradictory. Notice what you’re energetically responding to or remembering, even if it doesn’t seem cohesive. Start compressing the notable details down to an anecdote you could tell in, say, 2 minutes. Tell this anecdote to some people. Give them the instruction that they give you feedback in one of two ways. They can comment on what stood out to them, or what they want to know more about.

Step 3: Take the feedback you got, and play. Amplify or distill detail maybe. Let it be weird. Observe it without being in it. Sleep on it. Of course, technique helps. The rule of three, callbacks, tags, and others. Most of all let everything you are show. All the stuff that you mask or wish was different about you? This is exactly what will elevate your material from good to hilarious, because audiences want to relate to the authentic you.

Here's a real life example. In the class I took at the Lincoln Lodge in Chicago, my classmate related a story about an interaction with a stranger, when she was walking her dog in the winter, and the dog peed on a dormant flower box with a sign that asked owners to keep their dogs away from the flowers. A man aggressively asked if she “knew how to read.” All her life she’s been a really shy person scared of conflict, but this time she decided to stand up for herself. “Mind your own business,” she said. He escalated by calling her the C-word.

So far, there’s absolutely nothing funny about this story, and in fact, it’s kind of scary. In workshop, we commented that what stood out was the crazy escalation by the stranger, and we wanted to know more about the stranger, did he live in the building, and did she ever see him again? Her answer, after a moment’s reflection was yes, he did live in the building and no, she never did see him again. And boom, right then and there was the addition that turned this bit into comedy. All she needed to do was simply add this final sentence to the story… “You might wonder if this person was ever seen again in the area, and [meaningful pause] I can honestly admit that he’s never been seen again.” In one fell swoop, she jumped off the real escalation by the stranger with a comedic and exponentially exaggerated escalation from “mind your own business” to possible murder. The very shy quiet demeanor of my classmate clashed so hard with the idea that it became even more hilarious. And because it’s her truth spoken by her and as her, the material only works if you’re her.

 What stood out to me is how the letting go of effort can make room for serendipity, and how a simple method of feedback can be so powerful. And I needed to know more about how to actually perform at the mic, bright lights in your face, in a roomful of people you don’t know.