On doing stand-up

On Wednesday, I went up for my second time doing stand-up. It went a lot smoother this time. A little too smooth. The thing is, on open mic night, you get four minutes. This posed a challenge for me because (and anyone who has read this blog can tell) I'm not really good at putting a limit on my words. My writing process has had to adapt to this new format.

Most of it stays the same. I start with the basic subject. Then, I make a list of items I want to cover. I make a list of what I find funny about them. Now comes the hard part for my writing style: Whittling it down.

It's gotten easier the more I do it, but there's still the factor of time. Four minutes. What I've learned the hard way is that on stage, Earth time goes completely out the window. I've written and performed two different sets, and both times I've practiced it over and over again in the car, at home, during smoke breaks at work and I had both sets I had perfectly timed to fill those four minutes. When I'm on stage, I get a light from the back of the room telling me I have thirty seconds left. If that light flashes again, it means I've gone over those four minutes.

The first time I went up, I finished my set just after the first light. The second time, I was at a handicap. I had a bit that required a small sight gag that I knew wasn't gonna work well while wearing my glasses, so I was more or less blind to any light I got from the back. I finished my prepared set, and made my exit. What I was sure was a solid four minutes turned out to be 3:20 in stage time. The remedy is simple, I need to work on some optional filler material.

I've decided that I'm gonna write material for at least two more sets before I start repeating myself. I'm still trying to find my schtick. As I get more comfortable being on stage, it'd be easier for me to work on that. As it stands, my nervousness on stage still shows, and I've found myself delivering my lines kinda deadpan, which thankfully works with the material. The sight gag worked differently than I thought it would, but it worked nonetheless.

Working on new material, I realize that each joke falls under one of four categories:

1. It's funny because it's true.
2. It's funny because I'm exaggerating.
3. It's funny because I'm lying my ass off.
4. That sounded a lot funnier in my head (usually not discovered until performed in front of a crowd).

So far, I've covered having hippy parents, getting over the flu, my greatest fears in life, addiction to television and crime scene investigators. I want to work on more personal stuff, like relationships...because, let's face it, most of my past relationships = comic goldmine. The challenge in writing that material is trying not to sound too bitter. I like to think I've moved past all that, but I run the risk of my funny time to turn into some sort of a pity party.

Due to my increasingly hectic work schedule over the next month, I'm gonna step away from stand-up for a few weeks. I could make the time, but I'd be too prone to just bitch about work in my act. Plus, being sleep-deprived would kinda screw with my energy on stage, don't you think?