The Method to My Madness

Some of my loyal readers are not comedians and do not understand the process of comedy writing. First of all, it’s different for everyone. Richard Lewis would write endlessly and take legal pad pages taped together with him on stage and lay them out over a piano like a table cloth. Others like Sinbad and Elayne Boosler are said to have written on stage—that is to say, never taking pen to paper but remembering bits and evolving them while in front of a crowd.

I don’t prescribe to either method. I work like Ghostwriter, of PBS fame, constantly rearranging refrigerator magnets until I spell a word. A nearby child tries to guess the concept I am hinting at, and before he or she can solve a mystery, I have landed my first joke. This way, I let other people do my thinking for me. Similarly, I collect old wrappers like Templeton, of horrific storybook fame, and I drop them in front of people. It takes about ten times before someone stops complaining about litter and starts trying to figure out the story unfolding at their feet. This produces quality material and helps me stay, for lack of a better word, humble.

Arguably this procedure slows my progress of effectively making people laugh 100% of the time. That’s the price you have to pay to be good. Nobody ever said this job would be easy, and I don’t believe in taking short cuts. Originality is key in this business, and this is the primary way I will stand out among today’s traditional comedians. Plenty of product references, toilet humor, and little substance. Hey it worked for (comedian du jour that people wish to criticize).