This week, I’m attempting what anyone who’s gotten sick from open mic bar food has attempted before: imparting advice to younger comics. When I say “younger” I don’t mean in actual years. I mean in comedy years, which are better measured in number of sets, minutes spent onstage or nights lost to pursuing stand up. Sure, there are more lucrative ways to waste your time — but there are also more productive and enjoyable ones!
If you’re earnestly trying to produce a stand up showcase, you’re at least slightly unwell, so I’ll be as gentle as possible.
What are my credentials? Stop standing so close to me.
How To Succeed In Producing Live Comedy By Trying Really Hard:
a) book an interesting lineup
A show has, let’s say, 5 to 7 comics (plus a host) doing 8 to 10 minutes. An “interesting” lineup successfully showcases performers of varying perspectives, styles and sensibilities. If everyone on it looks, sounds and acts the same while discussing the same things, an audience gets bored — fast. There’s no point in booking 7 different people if every act is virtually identical. Mix it up! Think hearty spring salad, not sad, monochromatic winter stew. Damn. I need a snack.
b) actually promote the show
OK, this is the one bullet where I’ll allow myself to yell: POSTING ON SOCIAL MEDIA IS NOT THE SAME AS PROMOTING THE SHOW. It’s just one part of it. Now, if you’ve built up a large following and can simply queef out show deets and people will show up, you don’t need this advice. What are you doing? Stop reading this and go back to cyberbullying Drake. But if you’re not an influencer or TikTok phenom, you need to attack promotion from a few different angles.
So yes, post. Maybe even invest in paid social ads. More crucially, take a realistic look at the avenues available to you. Promote on-site with fliers, signage, stickers, etc. List the event everywhere relevant online, including geographic- and subculture-specific places, e.g., LBGT+ sites if that applies. Start building an e-mail list. Get the venue a graphic so they can update their calendar and e-mail blasts accordingly. Bark outside the venue and distribute small fliers or business cards. Get a sponsor if possible. There’s probably a Google Doc or spreadsheet floating around with local listings, press contacts and other pointers for promotion; get your hands on it. If all this sounds annoying and time-intensive, guess what? It is! Hope you’re ready to get up close and personal with a Patch.com account, babe.
c) host the party
You are producing A LIVE EVENT. Consider the practical implications beyond sending Instagram messages and plugging in a microphone. Straight men struggle with this the most, and I think it’s because they aren’t raised to a) consider other people’s needs b) develop social graces.
Anyway, producing a show is a lot like hosting a party. Once people arrive, the work really starts. Can they locate the showroom? Do they have questions about how the show works, i.e., can you leave the room to order drinks? Are they hungry? Do they have a disability that requires accommodation? Did their parent’s divorce impact them in a way that could detract from their enjoyment of the show? These are the questions you have to ask yourself as a producer. You’re inviting guests into your comedy-home, and if you’re looking for repeat visits, you have to make the experience a positive one.
e) pay it forward (or: don’t be insane)
Smaller scenes tend to be more insular and thus, more prone to infighting and politics. It’s a beautiful, time-honored tradition, the petty feuds borne of third- and four-tier markets across the country. Anyone who’s lived in a small town or worked in academia knows what I’m talking about. In every local arts scene, there’s usually an unhinged weirdo who’s trying to, like, out-jockey the only people who can grant them resources and opportunities. Don’t be that weirdo. We all booked our first show because someone saw us striving and afforded us a small toehold. It’s also smart — the better your reputation is locally, the more word-of-mouth spreads and people hear about the cool show you’re doing in a coffee shop or library or whatever. Your show can only benefit from a robust local scene, I promise!
Resources for much better advice:
Emily Winter’s podcast How To Produce Live Comedy
Laura Merli’s How to start your own indie standup show
John-Michael Bond’s How to Start Your Own Comedy Show
Recommendations
No Twitter embeds means lots of YouTube content. Eat the slop, pigs. Eat it up!
Drew Monson’s (mytoecold) most recent video
Drew Monson — who I’ve christened “the only funny YouTuber” — needs to be protected at all costs, including from himself. This vlog documents his substance abuse and recovery in a way that’s somehow hilarious, authentic and poignant at the same time. Nothing about it is cloying, maudlin or clichéd, common pitfalls of the sobriety narrative. In a more just world, he’d have Shane Dawson and Trisha Paytas’s careers combined. In this one, he’s a guy from Modesto spilling his guts on the Internet, climbing out of a self-made hole (relatable).
The Boy Band Con: The Lou Pearlman Story
If you want to understand the cultural obsession with aging millennials, you’ve gotta learn your history, hunty. Lou Pearlman was an accomplished conman, alleged sexual predator and obese blimp enthusiast. He was a monster and a dream-maker. He defrauded investors, hoodwinked young entertainers and their families and changed pop music history. You get appearances from Lance (who co-produced), AJ, Chris, JC, the late Aaron Carter (his defense of Lou is heartbreaking) Ashley Parker Angel of O-Town and Nikki Deloach of Innosense, among others. There’s a reveal that rivals Left Eye’s bankruptcy monologue from TLC’s Behind the Music. I owned a CASSETTE TAPE of Backstreet’s “Millennium” that I forced my mom to play in the car, so yeah, this took me back.
Caleb Hearon’s Comedy Central Stand-Up Set
Q&A
Rebecca Robinson is a comedian, writer and producer based in New York.
Q: What's your best advice for someone looking to break into comedy?
A: Don't. No, that's not advice. Realistically, I'm still trying to break into comedy so I know close to nothing. I'd say lean into who you are and ask for what you want. The worst thing that can happen is that nobody likes you or someone says no. (Or they can also talk behind your back and you unintentionally smear your own reputation for being advantageous. It won't matter, you can do that on your own). Don't worry about anything. Nothing really matters. That went downhill quickly!
Q: How does Denver so consistently produce comics that are a) funny b) good hangs?
A: A) Denver continues to produce funny comics because that's where Roseanne started, obviously. Next question. B) Being born in Colorado, good hangs are in your blood. I think this translates into the comedy scene because there's not a thick feeling of competitiveness so it's easy to get along. People in Colorado are generally kind. Everyone is hyping up each other when they succeed, even when they want what the other person has. I also think the hangs help make the quality of comedians better. It's super cool to be a part of. Also, mushrooms.
Q: Do you identify as "petty"? Why or why not?
A: Do you think I am? Was this question curated specifically for me? Should I take this personally? [Editor’s Note: Please don’t!] I can definitely be petty but it's usually in private, Pam. Oxford Dictionary defines "petty" as "of little importance or trivial." I wrestle with not feeling petty. I still struggle with my self worth because I'm a sucker for comparing myself to other people and placing others importance or relevance before my own. It's something to work on, I guess.
Q: The Christo-fascists have taken over. The United States is officially a corrupt theocracy. Where do you seek refuge?
A: In a recently remodeled midwestern McDonald's. One with all day breakfast, respectively. I'd name another country but I'd assume the U.S. will also be invading them. No one questions what's going on in a well lit McDonald's. But if I have to flee the country for my safety, I'll book a flight to Fiji.
Drop a name (i.e., share a celebrity encounter)
Martin Starr. I just really want to meet Martin Starr. I don't have a story about him or any real reason why but I feel like we'd really vibe well together. He seems like a cool guy and dare I say, I love his work. I feel like we could do that annoying thing where we would switch glasses to see what each other looks like in our own pair, or whatever. So if anyone who follows this newsletter knows Mr. Starr or someone close to him, please reach out.
See Rebecca perform live and listen to her podcast here.
Shameless Self-Promotion
This week, it’s an oldie but a goodie. My first humor piece was published on McSweeney’s Internet Tendency 6 years ago (upsetting!). I’ll get around to a sequel one of these days. The zeitgeist loves scathing satire of rich, privileged assholes, apparently, and that’s one of my specialties.
You Should Also Be Reading…