In the pursuit of fame, comics will do many awful things. Some will cut off family and friends. Others will go into massive debt funding road gigs and merch. Some will do crappy shows in unsafe environments. Some will lower their relationship standards and date terrible yet famous people to get ahead. Some will hide their ethnicity in hopes of getting into certain communities. People will do almost anything to get the gig, make the connection, or get a foot into the door. But the one thing you don't ever want to do is flat out lie. Because you will get caught. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day you'll be confronted, and then it all comes crashing down. I recently heard a story of a comic who said he had military service to get gigs and after the producer vetted their Facebook, realized he was lying. That conversation is going to be awkward.

You shouldn't lie for numerous reasons, but as a comic and booker I've dealt with it in numerous forms, and it's a fast track to losing gigs and respect. Oh, and did I mention, it's WRONG. Like actually wrong. Like, you're a bad person if you do it.

I'm not talking about lying to save your life, I mean lying to benefit yourself.        

So let's dive into how to avoid lying and what's the difference between being your own hype man and being a pathological liar. And I'll share some lies that ruined relationships with me. 

What Constitutes a Lie?
The definition of a lie is simple: When you knowingly say something untrue to benefit in some way. It's when you say you have accomplishments or claim certain things about others you know isn't true, but say them anyways to help yourself in the moment. People lie all the time about their relationship status, job history, height, and income. People lie on their resume. People lie to their bosses. People lie everyday. We live in a culture where politicians get elected based on the more lies they tell. It's an epidemic. But in the world of comedy, it will be your biggest red flag when climbing the comedy ladder. 

Saying an untruth is different. For instance, if you are talking to a friend and they tell you wrong information about a person, and you tell someone else what you heard, but it was incorrect, you're not lying - you're just spreading misinformation and rumors. While not ideal, it's not what I'm classifying as a lie. If you are telling people information based on the information you've gathered, then you might be wrong, but you're not lying. There has to be some malicious intent attached. 
If you do find out your spread a rumor, it's best to correct that information quickly so that the other parties know you're a person of integrity. 

The Biggest Lies Comics Say
Recently, I heard about a comic that lied about military service to get a string of military gigs. Turns out he even openly wrote on Facebook how he never served in the military but he felt that shouldn't keep bread out of his pocket. That's a doozy of a lie, but since that can be vetted after a few questions, it's not the most common lie. Here are a few that really destroy a comic's career, even if it opens doors faster in the beginning:

• Claiming you opened for a famous comic
• Getting a gig by promising your fan base will fill the room 
• Saying you can do 20+ minutes when you never have 
• Claiming you're in traffic when you just are late 
• Lying about venues you were booked in 
• Exaggerating the years you've done stand up 
• Making up sexual orientation or race to get more gigs 

These are all issues I dealt with over the years. If it wasn't people telling me they open for people they once accidently did a showcase with, it's a guy doing open mics and claiming he played the venue. The "Fake it until you make it" slogan isn't about lying. It's about taking on the persona of success and acting like you've been there before. 

I once booked a comic because she said she had 20 friends in town and wanted to get on a show. I told them I'd give them 10 minutes, but their friends would have to buy online so I knew this wasn't a scam. No tickets were bought by anyone. On the night of the show she showed up late, claiming all her friends were with her at dinner and coming over to the venue now. She showed up while the headliner was already on stage, and when I asked where her friends were, she said they were too drunk to show up. Just lie after lie. She begged for another chance. So I gave her a spot on a slow holiday weekend. She showed up late again. With no one coming to see here. Bombed in front of a handful of people and when she asked to come back I said she wasn't professional enough to work with. 

One time a headliner was running late to the show, claiming he'd be there at 8:45pm to do his 45 minute set. The show started at 8pm. He didn't show up until 9pm, claiming there was awful traffic. When I ran a Waze report on traffic, it said there was none. I had to fill the 15 minutes and the crowd was confused. Never booked him again. 

More than once I gave comics a chance to do 20 minutes on a show only for them to bail after 10 minutes. One time the guy bailed after 8 minutes. His messages were all sizzle and then no steak. When he got off the stage, the headliner was in the bathroom thinking he had ten more minutes to get ready. I did ten more minutes, mixing in crowd work and promoting future shows. He immediately asked for another spot and I told him to message me in a year. We never talked again.
I've had people claim they were gay and bisexual for LGBTQ+ shows I was co-producing, only for it to come out they "used to be" that identity or they are still questioning. Fine, but just be honest. Those shows are meant for comics to have a platform to express their unique story and point of view to people interested in how they find comedy in their journey. 

My friend produces a movie themed comedy show and tells me people repeatedly promise to stick with the show's theme, only to bail after a couple jokes and do their regular act. Some might say "who cares?" because "the people still laughed," but the way that show survives is by getting movie fans who normally don't go to comedy shows to go back to hear movie themed jokes. When a comic lies to get stage time, they ruin the integrity of the producer's marketing and brand.            

All of these types of lies are just fast tracks to reducing opportunities and becoming the warning story other comics tell others. 

Honesty Will Always Get You To Where You Need to Be
Yes, lying can have immediate benefits. Puffing yourself up and lying about your abilities to market or perform will get you a lot of gigs up front, but what about a year from now? You won't get rebooked nor will you have references or leads for future gigs. 

Lying about a story on stage is another topic for another day. The complexity of emotional truth verses literal truth is a topic comics debate all the time. But no one debates if lying is the best roadmap to success. It isn't. Comics who lie to get ahead don't last long, or even worse they have it all taken away at some point, and now they have to figure out how to make a living without any useful work experience. 

Being honest is a key to success. It will keep you from losing sleep at night. Your accomplishments will feel more rewarding if done with honor and integrity. And by being straight up, you will find your path to reach the levels and venues that are best for you. Your reputation will be solid. People will
want to work with you more. And in the words of America's greatest satirist:

If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything. - Mark Twain 

Final Thoughts 
Comedy is hard enough without trying to balance the career and the lies told. If you can only do 10 minutes of time, be honest. If you can't afford to drive 500 miles for $50, just tell the booker that. If you have to cancel, be upfront. Because eventually you will get caught in a lie. Everyone always does. 

Lying hurt the careers of too many. Not just in comedy, but all of art. Just ask Milli Vanilli how lying turned out. Carlos Mencia tried to hide his joke stealing and now he's stuck playing B clubs. The guy who wrote A Million Little Pieces lost everything when it came out he made up his drug addiction stories. Even Oprah dragged him on her couch on national TV and the next day his agents dropped him.   

I worked with high school coaches who lied to get illegal transfers, only for their teams to get suspended for years. I had police investigators call me about former students I coached who lied on their applications, only to lose their jobs within months because the police got involved. I'm not saying you'll get arrested for claiming you were on Kill Tony if you weren't. What I am saying is eventually someone will call you on your BS. 

​So tell the truth, let the chips fall where they may, and I promise you, even if you don't get everything you want, you'll get (mostly) everything you deserve - and can handle.

Most comics live stagnant lives, staying within the same geographical locations, playing the same rooms, and doing 5-10 minute sets in front of the same types of crowds. The reason isn't because they aren't funny or driven; it's because they're scared to do something and fail. But failure (yes, FAILURE) is crucial to growth and success. In this self esteem driven, mental health obsessed, "you do you, boo" world people have taken the fruits of the movement and turned it into a theology of protection above progress, and unless you are blessed and lucky, your career will stay where it is as long as you don't change in an attempt to feel safe in an industry filled with landmines. 

In the end, if you always do what you always did, you'll only get what you've always got. 

That's why pushing yourself is extremely important. Careers are built on success but also fear. One step back and two steps forward is a good ratio if you're trying to reach another level in your comedy. Whether that goal is getting longer sets or tightening punchlines, you have to set goals and find opportunities. One way to encompass all your goals is to take on the overwhelming task of filming your own comedy special.

Yes, filming your own 30 minute special. It doesn't have to be Dry Bar level productions. And you don't have to have a perfect 30 minutes. You just have to sit down, make a plan, rent a room, get a camera, and invest in yourself. For each person it's different. Maybe you film it 3 or 5 years into comedy or maybe you finally just take the last 10-15 years and film your best bits. But once you set this goal, your whole comedy career will feel and look different. Even if nothing comes out of it (which is impossible) at least you'll have something to show the world and prove to yourself you did it.  

So let's break down how to make this work for your wallet and time.

Budgeting and Planning 
Before you start getting anxiety even thinking about taking on such a high risk adventure, start by picking a date 8-12 months in advance. Just pick a date. April 4th sounds good. There, I just did it for you. 

Now pick a venue that seats 50-100 people. Hell, it can be 25 people or 200 people. I would pick a small theater and not a comedy club. Clubs will be more restrictive. Theaters will just rent the space to you and get out of the way. Or how about a back room of a restaurant or the backyard of a friend. Just pick a place and get a quote to reserve it. April 4th is booked there? Then pick a date around that one that works.  

Now you have a date and place. Black box theaters and the like want you there. So they'll be thrilled.  
Now figure out if anyone you know has a camera and wants to film you. One camera. Two cameras. 12 cameras. I don't care. Just figure out what you have at your disposal. Use a few iPhones and edit on Cap Cut. 

Now sit down and figure out how much it will cost and save up to pay the venue and the camera guy. Maybe go to the local junior college and ask the film production teacher if any students need a project. Maybe you can get a higher quality camera out of it. 

Maybe you get a side hustle for a few months to fund it. Whether you spend $500 or $5,000 - you have to see this as an investment. Though, I would cash flow it and not put it on a credit card. I want to invest and sacrifice for me not the bank. 

Pick a couple openers. Give them both 15 minutes to open the show. Make the damn thing feel like an event. And you just created a few accountability partners as well.

Think in broad strokes and not picky details. As problems pop up, solve them as fast as possible. Don't worry about them until they show up. Think Date, Venue, Camera. The objective is to make the tape you need to create the content you want to move the career forward in a direction you desire.        

Forcing Yourself To Get More Gigs and Write, Write, Write 
Now that you have a date and money on the line, go out and work on every bit you like and write new ones. Nothing forces you to step up like having to step up. Once you know the target date, begin the process of reaching out to every venue you can. Let them know you're working on filming a special in a few months and would love the stage time. 

By applying pressure on yourself and setting a goal you'll instantly feel different and more accomplished. By reaching out with a reason to get up will help with confidence. Too often comics are in their own head asking for spots. Knowing you're doing this for yourself, many will want to help. Plus, letting the crowd know you're working on jokes and making jokes about that will just create a better experience. Plus, people will want to ask questions and maybe even come to the taping. 

Organizing your jokes will take time and practice. You'll want to mix bits and eliminate tags that become repetitive. But the more you find times to get up, the more times you'll figure out pacing, tone, and the best order. 

Having a Permanent Digital Footprint 
Once you've accomplished this goal, you'll have a ton of footage to cut up, put out, and use for marketing purposes. But the greater good is once you produce and release your 30-40 minute special, you'll have a lasting document to prove you did something *literally* special. You will be able to have a digital diary of where you were at that time in our life - a milestone and notch on the belt. 

Most people have very little to show for their existence in the marketplace. Most people put in thirty years at the same job and only end up with a just a gold watch and pension they'll never show to anyone but a spouse. Your special will be something you can point to when people ask what kind of comedy do you do. You'll have a thing that's yours. Whether you spent $100 or $1,000 on it, it's a piece of you. And that feeling of self-accomplishment will carry you to the next milestone. 

I was lucky that Dry Bar reached out to me. I have a special on their app, on YouTube, and on Apple Music. And when I'm 60 years old, my 285 pound ass (at the time) will forever be there to see. We talk about immortality, and this is one way to reach it.

And on top of that, a decent quality 30-40 minute set is a great way to prove to bookers you have the ability and stamina to feature and headline.  

Your Special Can be the Canary in the Coal Mine     
Now, let's get a bit dark. Let's talk about the fear. 

The fear you'll lose money. The fear no one will come. The fear you'll bomb. The fear no one will watch it. The fear no one will like it. 

Yes. All of those things are possible. But what fear really is, at the end of the day, is a guiding light or canary in the coal mind. It can help you refine your goals and rebrand if needed. By pushing through fear you'll grow as an artist and person. 

If you lose money, then you can start seeing how to budget better. If no one comes, maybe you can decide if it's time to expand your networking and booker circle. If you bomb, then you can rethink the jokes you write. If no one watches your clips or special, then reevaluate your marketing and appeal. And if no one likes it and bookers don't book you, then you can at least say you did everything you could to become the professional comic you wanted to be. 

Of course, maybe people will come and people will like it and clubs and bookers will see the effort as a signifier of your growth and dedication. Other comics might be impressed and ask you to open for them or head their shows. 

There are many possibilities. But fear cannot be the reason you don't push onward. Dr. Seuss's "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" attacks this great paralyzing fear: 

You'll come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lightened. But mostly they are dark.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and your chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
Or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
​
But while you might ask a million questions, you have to challenge yourself. You have the tools and you know the risks, but it is in the challenges we find the victories. And Seuss challenges his readers to take that fear and walk forward with it.
​
But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike.
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.
​
Sometimes it takes a children's poem to help us grow up. 

Final Thoughts
Art only becomes great and artists only live forever when they push themselves and create their own opportunities. One way for that is to film yourself doing 30-40 minutes, posting it, and using it to showcase your talents. There will be bumps along the way, but I promise you, if you set yourself up for success, regardless if it changes your life or not, it will change you. 

In The Hobbit, Bilbo is challenged by Gandalf to go on an adventure, and he asks a fearful question:

Bilbo: Can you promise that I will come back? 

Gandalf: No. And if you do, you will not be the same.

​And what a blessing that can be too.  

​Most comics sit in the green rooms of venues complaining about the way comics are treated, paid, and move up the ranks in the club scene. Considering comics are complainers by nature, this is very normal, and while none of the problems of comedy are solved in those tight spaces behind the stages they perform on, the type of complaints brought up are very valid, if not inherently solvable. Yest solving a problem like comedy stage time, pay, and getting "passed" can't just be "do better" or just "pay out of the food and beverage" profits. That's like a coach telling an athlete, "Be more athletic and score more points." Ok, but how? 

I once took a speech class where we were supposed to solve a problem in society. The professor used Homelessness as an issue to solve. Most of my freshman college classmates said, "build more homes." There. Problem. Solved.

Well, not so fast Speed Racer. Immediately, I saw the flaw in that logic. Just because there are more homes doesn't mean the homeless have the money to buy or maintain a home. Nor, can we just provide free homes to people that will properly take care of them. No, the reason people are homeless is because of a lack of income and various issues including substance abuse, education, mental illness, and various life choices that make sleeping in a car more economical than paying rent.
My suggestion in class was to provide more state funded education in the trades (one year programs), mental health resources, rent control, incentivizing church community outreach, and affordable rehab options. Or tax dollars go somewhere, maybe there instead of other programs. Once the homeless can function at a higher level socially and economically, they should be able to benefit from those resources and society benefits too. They don't need houses - they need roadmaps to pay for shelter.  

Same thing goes with making changes in comedy. Clubs can't just "pay comics more" or "charge more" for food and beverage to cover costs. There has to methodical strategies, and while there are many healthy clubs in the country, most are ticking time bombs ready to implode. So here are a few ways clubs can thrive, comics can get paid, and everyone wins. 

Earmark Revenue So Everyone Gets Paid 
Comedy clubs are unique from other venues as comedy clubs have labor laws, payroll, rent, and insurance to pay for the business to operate. Your bar show that has an entertainment budget or paying out of ticket sales doesn't worry about payroll tax and OSHA. The venue might but the producer doesn't. Yet most clubs make a huge mistake in looking at all revenue as the pot of gold and instead of breaking down where the money is funneling from, they make blanket business budgets and then look at the comics and say, "can't you after costs." They collect ticket sales, food and beverage, merch, gift cards, comedy classes, open mics, etc. then pay out their legal obligations and by the time they get to comics, the owners are exhausted mentally and physically. Had they funneled the pay at first, it would be must easier. 

So over time, comics allow clubs to use them for free, and now it's a giant war between comics and clubs.

Legally, the clubs don't have to pay independent contactors who agree to do free work. Comics can't agree to do a show for free, realize it's a packed room and ask for a cut of the door. Those deals need to be made when negotiating the show details, but the club will usually say they can't pay because they don't know how much they'll make. 

The problem with that logic is they could just allow a simple percentage deal where they earmark ticket sales as the way to pay comics, knowing they can create a sliding scale. If clubs put aside 75%-80% of ticket sales revenue, reduced the number of comics, rotated more comics into spots, and had a sliding scale with a baseline of $50/show and it goes up as ticket sales go up, there would be a real potential of growth. If they max out the pay at $250 to showcase, there would at least be a range to budget. Headliner weekends would be mostly door deals or a flat scale where the comics get a percentage, but since most LA shows are showcases, the club can easily earmark accordingly.  
Let the food and drink cover operations, and give the comics what they drove in and keep the remaining 20% to help cover the base pay for future shows that don't work out as well. Another aspect to this would be only booking 5-6 comics for 15-20 sets, instead of giving bringers, headliners, guests traveling through, etc. endless opportunities. Narrow the talent and spread the wealth. Showcases with 10 comics just produces 10 bitter unpaid comics.  

Let's say the club sells 50 tickets and makes $1,000 - they can pass on over $125 a comic and keep the rest plus food, beverage, service charges, etc. Instead of just paying a flat $25 a comic and keeping the rest, the comics will be more enticed to have better shows and now the crowds win too.  

Reduce the Amount of Shows 
The other way to build this plan up is to reduce shows. By focusing on a Thursday through Sunday model, clubs reduce labor by eliminating three days a week. This also forces clubs to think more strategically about their lineups. When these B LA clubs are open every night, thinking cash flow is survival, they actually hurt the quality of the experience. Heck, even the A Clubs in West Hollywood are struggling to fill seats. Pot Luck can move to Wednesdays or Thursdays if it had to. It's the bad nights with a normal group of employees that suck up the profits. Whether the show has 10 or 300, wages are wages.    

Comedy club shows should be a weekend focused business model. By narrowing the amount of shows, clubs can run more specially curated shows. Mainstream comedy on the early show and more alt shows later.  Or let the headliner door deals take one spot and give the showcases the other slot. Rarely can even the best comics sell out four or five shows at $25-$40 a ticket. 

By reducing shows, venues can be selective and pay accordingly. When clubs are churning out 15-25 shows a week, they are asking for an unstable business model and it takes away value from the show. A potential comedy customer will see they can go any night of the week and then never go. Had the club only offered shows specific nights, guests have to go or wait a whole week. People don't need 20 options. They need 5-8 options. The In-N-Out model works great for comedy. Small menu and drive up demand. The McDonald's or Starbucks model of comedy works if shows are fast, cheap, and drive thru comedy. But shows last 90-100 minutes. So If you're dedicating a night of the week to a show, it better be good.    

Nurture Comics Instead Of Just Booking the Same Ones   
If clubs are paying comics correctly and selecting based on strategic methods, there has to be real opportunities for future comics that are being told just comic back when you're famous. Comedy clubs aren't successful because famous people drop by. They're successful because the comedy is funny and people know it'll always be funny. But comics need stage time to get better at stand up. They don't need more TikTok time.

Clubs have to tell veterans who suck up spots they started getting 30 years ago to back off and let new talent get those spots. If you're 20 years in and still need the 10-15 minute spots that pay nothing because your ego needs the stage time, then you're just hurting the future generations. What in the hell are 50 year old's hosting for? Why are Netflix comics taking spots from up and comers? Go help 100 seat black box theaters and bar shows. Dropping into The Store once a month while you make a fortune on the road and writing and acting is fine. Being on every lineup for a month for your next special is just maddening. 

Clubs are short sighted and forget the famous comics they market now were once unknowns they nurtured through doorman jobs, hosting, and working with other venues to get them stage time. Mitzi Shore and Bud Friedman used unknowns to build the comedy scene in LA. The current owners and bookers are using many of the same names that dropped in during the 1980's. At some point stand up will fade away because only the content creators will have the fanbase and the grinding comics will not have the stage experience to battle rowdy crowds and off nights.       

Rent is Killing Comedy
If anyone wants to know why some clubs thrive while others struggle, the reason could be rent v. ownership. In the 1970's the clubs were bought up and now stand as landmarks. This means the money coming in goes directly to owners, payroll, comics, etc. The clubs that are drowning probably have to pay ridiculous rent prices. In fact, some places have rent go up when the venue does more business, so it's in the club's incentive to increase revenue actually is defeated by a poor man's attitude. 

Or at least, small minded owners look at it that way. If you ever think about getting into the club business, just know that owning is the only way to go. Because once you pay off the building, all the revenue is potential profit. So many comedy clubs are burning cash on buildings that they'll never own, which also makes it impossible to sell to better potential owners. 

So many clubs see the papering the room model and think it's working because they see it. What they don't know is some clubs benefit from city funds to bring in business like festivals and encourage local property owners to allow for rent free time periods in exchange for the comedy club to pay renovations and generate foot for neighboring businesses owned by the club. So when a new club pops up and tries to model their business model after another club, most times they can't see the behind the scenes parts moving the machine.     

Clubs paying rent would benefit by asking property owners if they could get a few months off where they could combine resources and help promote neighboring businesses. A comedy club getting 800-1,000 guests a week could put coupons in the bill that would help other business and vice versa. When I was at Flappers I used to give workshop tickets to the local cookie door store and then promote them at the workshops. They generated me business and I generated them business. We even ran kids improv there and made the parents buy cookie dough and everyone loved it.  

Strategize a Marketing Budget
If you want to know a dark secret about most clubs it's that they have little to no marketing budget. Once they pay labor, vendors, and rent there isn't much left, but if they used the ticket revenue correctly, they'd have a better shot at creating a true marketing campaign where they'd have digital ads and use cookies so people visit the website and then see ads the next 48 hours. 

Most clubs rely on grassroots social media posts and comics promoting. If it's Jerry Seinfeld on X promoting, it will sell out. If it's Open Micer McMickey, maybe the 2-5 friends or a random follower might show up. In my experience, a little money on Facebook and Instagram ads can go a long way. If they properly A/B test by trying generic flyers and more date specific, they might see what works best. Instead, they run the same ads, regardless of the success rate.   

When I co-produce my Teacher Lounge theater shows and Budweiser corporate shows, we strategized by getting the community the info. Flyers and info was sent to teachers in local school districts in cities we visited, selling hundreds of tickets, filling out theaters. With My Valley Pass and Budweiser, the focus was on the San Fernando Valley. We sold out in weeks. $45 tickets are easier to sell when people know the show exists. Don't just do a blast email, but instead spend time creating a plan. This goes back to my don't be open 7 days a week idea. If the marketing teams or bookers had a day off, they could be a on phone call with local groups instead of trying to book a crappy Monday night show. 

Offer Deals Not Comps   
As I talked about in the last article, comping out the room leaves little room for margin to pay the comics. Here are few tricks to get people excited about buying the tickets. Here are things I have done and other clubs do that work:

• Attach a drink or food item to the ticket (Buy one ticket and get a drink, app, or disposable swag) 
• Use a 2 for 1 ticket where people can buy two tickets for the price of one (It's easy revenue from married people on a discount date night)
• Sell VIP seating at an upcharge price to guarantee people better seats (Some people want to spend more to feel special)
• Early bird prices and don't comp at last minute (If you buy the month before, get a lower price)
• Lower prices for less performing hours (Thursday and Sunday night shouldn't cost the same as "date night") 
• Make shows an event to experience (Huge mistake clubs miss. Create an atmosphere.)
• Encourage meet and greets where comics are incentivized to meet guests on the way out (They want to meet you and a few selfies can help the club) 

While these won't fix everything, they will drive in more revenue than just giving away the milk for free. By attaching value and deals, people feel valued and that the ticket they bought has value. It's basic Moneyball. If you haven't seen that movie, go watch it now. 

Final Thoughts
Fixing comedy in a week isn't really realistic. But if I started a club or wanted to fix a club, I know there's a lot I'd do differently, from earmarking profits to creating clear opportunities for younger comics to working with property owners to raise all ships.

People forget modern stand up comedy really didn't start until the 1970's, twenty years after television and fifty years after the movies. Everyone is still learning. The comedy world is still in its early walking phases. Today, comedy specials are the number one form of streaming entertainment in ways HBO specials never dreamed of being. Hell, Netflix would be smart to invest in clubs to pay comics as well, since their reality shows rely on that talent.  

​But everything starts with finding ways to pay the comics and build the brand of the club out. And yes, your comedy matters to the success of the club, but their strategies are the way the club survives.  

​If I could wave my comedy wand and change one thing about stand up comedy it would be what's called Papering The Room. It's when the venue, comics, or producer gives away free tickets to make the show appear more popular than it really is. Papering the room is also known as "comps" or "guest lists" and many comics are so used to giving away their material and shows for free that when they do something of value, they have no idea how to sell themselves.

Their friends are so used to watching a terrible show that the idea of paying at that point sounds like a scam, especially if they bought tickets to a bad bringer show made up of washed up 90's stars, the producer doing 40 minutes, and a rotation of amateurs no one would pay to see in real life. So let's talk about what you can do to help yourself and let's not worry about your friends seeing you for free anytime again. 

Why Do Comics Like Comps and Why Do Venues Use Them?
Excuse me, if I come off as condescending in these next couple paragraphs, but there are a few truths that have to be acknowledged. First, venues like comps because they follow the wrong logic that food and drink will cover the cost of labor and rent. When in fact, that's not really true. After working for and with multiple clubs, I can tell you that papering the room and relying on food and drink sales only leads to underpaid comics and owners questioning the business model. 

Whether big name stars take 100% of the door, or the venue is comping the room, the end result is the same. If people order little to no food, even if the venue ends up having a full room, they still have an empty bank account. The illusion of a full room might create a better experience for the audience and comic, but it's not a real reflection of success. But that doesn't stop broken business models from moving forward. When you see a comedy venue with a two item minimum and papered rooms, just know that money food money has to pay employees, cooks, rent, utilities, venue repairs, lights, sound, etc. When 50 people show up to the comped shows, then that's maybe $3,000 for the night, if lucky. Payroll for a club could run $1,500 a night. And the comics still haven't gotten a dime.

The Math doesn't lie. Now had they gotten 25 paid customers, they might have made more money because they would have gotten a higher cliental with a better food and drink budget instead of 50 broke people getting a free show. And the ticket money could have been split among the comics.  

Comics love the comp list because they feel more people will show up and they'll get a better crowd. Nothing could be further from the truth. Free tickets mean people who don't want to invest in their own pleasure. When I started hitting the road, the pop (crowd response) from the people in paying venues was wild. When I did shows where the first show was paid guests and the late show was comped guests, I can feel the difference walking on stage. 15 paid guests to way better that 75 tired broke people. 

Comics also like bragging they can get their friends in for free. As if they know their show will suck but at least I can make the experience more tolerable by covering your costs. This defeatist attitude holds back your progress. After the first couple of free bar shows, tell anyone who wants to see you to buy a damn ticket.

In fact, when I meet people on the street and someone blurts out that I'm a comic (sometimes I'm the blurter) they ask me to tell them a joke, I say "that's a two drink minimum." They laugh and add me on IG if they're interested. Now, if it's a "she" asking and she's cute, I say, ""That's a two drink minimum, but for you, you have to let me buy you the drinks over dinner." One day I'm sure that line will work.

My point is, the comping, the guest listing, the getting them in for free just keeps you on the amateur level. When I was in high school, my dad tried to get in free to see me wrestle. It was embarrassing. Adults can pay to get in. If all your friends are too broke...maybe find better friends. I'm kidding (not kidding). Hell, I had 18 year old graduates from my high teaching days buying tickets in my first few years. Your 25 year old friends can pay too. Nothing is sadder than a friend asking for a handout.        
Bringing a bunch of free people doesn't make anything better. About three years in, I started telling people to buy tickets, and it completely weeded out the hanger-on's and freeloaders. My ego isn't stroked by friends showing up. My ego is stroked by making the crowd in front of me laugh.       

Why Guest Lists and Papering the Room Are Hurting Comedy More than Helping It
Everything you like in life, you pay for. Netflix, food, amusement parks, movies, the gym, etc. has a cost. Either you or somebody associated with you is paying for it. Try calling Netflix and asking them if you can have the service for free? They'll laugh at you. Tell the people at Buffalo Wild Wings you'd like to pay in good vibes. They'll kick you out. We have an expression "you get what you pay for" because we inherently attach value to the cost of things we want. In fact, paying for an item or experience can increase the enjoyment of the experience dramatically. Trust me, paying a fortune for a concert forces people to enjoy it way more than they probably would had they paid nothing. Did anyone really have fun sitting in the nosebleed section of stadiums for games or Taylor Swift? No. But that ticket price makes you feel like you invested in your own fun.  

Part of the problem with stand up is that a lot of terrible comics are able to give away their comedy for free to (current) friends, taking spots away from quality comics. The bringer or guest list model rewards mediocre talent, punishes stronger talent who don't have the same social safety nets, and then drives the comics out who realize in a few years their friends can't finance they dreams of performing 5 minutes at a time by driving to all their shows.

But greedy producers with no idea how to properly promote can survive the LA comedy scene on the backs of comics who confuse their friend's generosity for success. The true mark for success isn't how many friends give up their night to see a show; it's how many bookers ask you to perform without asking you to bring. If you go to an audition or DM a booker and their first question is about bringing or promoting - run! 

It's why I only book comics I like working with. Very early on, I booked a few questionable comics because they promised to fill the seats, only to find out they're liars or they become entitled after. But one thing I never do is paper the room. When I ran the Comedy School I would charge $5 tickets, as I felt that was a fair price. People agreed. Eventually I moved it to $10 because we were selling out. We sold out every Level 1 showcase and most Level 2 shows. The club's regular shows in the other room would have 100 comps on record in the other room but ONLY 12 would show up. It's a broken model. 

To double down on my philosophy, I would then sprinkle advance students into the Level 1 and Level 2 showcases and tell them to bring no one unless it was a potential commercial agent. Part of the training was learning to focus on the standup in front of you and not caring if your co-workers came.  

Papering the Room Devalues Your Comedy 
When a show has no monetary value required to see it, it means that the comics on the show have no monetary value attached to them. Wanna be a professional comic? Then charge money to see your shows and collect the money and get paid. It's really that simple. Jim Gaffigan isn't a millionaire because he's funny. He's a millionaire because he's funny AND people pay to se him. When you tell people your act isn't worth paying for, you're saying to people your act isn't a professional act. Bragging to a producer you can get 5-10 people out as long as no one has to pay is not a real brag. 
Here's a little hack. If there's a show you're doing and there are comp links and a paid link, only send your friends the pay link. This will do many things that feel counter intuitive at first but will help you down the line.      

• First, people will associate value with your comedy. 
• Second, people will be more committed to attending your shows.
• Third, if you sell tickets, you can start figuring out if it's time to run your own shows and keep the box office.
• Fourth, you will start marketing more efficiently, attracting a higher quality audience. 
• Fifthly, other comics will see your value and right or wrong attach a higher quality to your act because it comes at a price.     

Creating a brand that demands value and commitment is the goal.  

Don't Do Any Bringer Shows - Ever 
One quick fix to stop papering the room is to never do bringers. Yes, I understand you get to perform at The Ice House or The Comedy Store, but those are false realities. Even if they make your friends pay, it's not a real show. Sometimes when the producer papers the room the producer gets a dollar amount anyway, so you're paying their bills instead of yours. 

It would be better to do open mics and connect with comics who you build relationships with, start your own shows with a $10-$25 ticket price, or work with venues (bars, restaurants, etc.) that have entertainment budgets and need comedy on certain nights of the week and pay you for bringing in or retaining business. 

I'm not even a fan of doing bringer shows as the non-bringer guest comic. It just supports the mistreatment of comics.

There's a story a young comic told me about her first and last night in comedy. She got booked for a bringer show at The Comedy Store and four out of the five friends showed up. The producer told her she can't get up and her four friends who showed up can't get a refund. She told me there was no way to reach them as their phones were locked up in the iPhone containers. She said she started crying and the headliner of the bringer, unaware it was bringer, saw her crying and told the producer he won't go up if she doesn't go up. That man was Jim Gaffigan. He told the producer not to rebook him after that. That's how you handle that. 

If any bringer booker with a show called "[Their Name] & Friends" tells you, "Hey, you didn't bring enough people..." I want you to write back, "Sounds like like you're the one who can't bring. It's your name on the title of the show. Maybe get more friends."   

Final Thoughts 
Stop focusing on making sure all your people see all your shows. Don't try to focus on filling guest lists and getting people in for free. You know these people buy things all day on Amazon, Ticketmaster, and at their favorite stores. If they want to pay and show up, they will. Focus on your career and not the people who need you pulling strings to get them in. Focus on the show and let the producers focus on filling the seats. 

Papering the room, guest lists, and all the other ways people get into comedy free is not saving comedy. People paying to see comedy saves comedy. If they won't buy a ticket, then just focus on the people who will. If they're late to buying, tell them to go to the next one.

Sometimes comics want to watch a show for free to "support the show" or a comic wants to tag along with you to meet the producer, hoping they book them down the road. In the words of a famous booker at a very successful comedy club, "I'm nervous around comics who want to take up space because they aren't booked that night." 

​In the end, just get up on stage and be the best comic you can be. Don't worry about butts in seats, your friends getting in free, or other comics thinking they'll get booked if they drive with you. The comedy world is filled with paper rooms. Be the solution. Not the enabler.   

One of the most difficult parts of stand up comedy is when you decide in both your actions and your heart to dedicate yourself to the art form. Dealing with the emailing of bookers, the bad nights in bars instead of being at home, the highs and lows of auditions and showcases, making money on a weekend gig, and losing money on a weekday run. It's in the commitment we find our place in this industry. Some soar. Some sink. Some got in when the gettin' was good. Others were cursed to be born at the wrong time, fighting the lucky ones born a few years earlier. Regardless of your current status or goal setting progress, one piece of advice you hear from the 1% who make it is to not have a Plan B. It's viewed by many as a weakness and lack of confidence in your abilities. While there's a romantism in thinking such a thought, I can tell you, it's those without a Plan B (on stage or in life) that sink instead of swim. So let's break down the multiple area of stand up ranging from the act to the career to the life you live and how a Plan B applies. Because at the end of the day, Plan B isn't just for one night stands.   

What a Plan B Looks Like on Stage 
The great philosopher and boxer Mike Tyson once said, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." This is the definition of stand up comedy. You walk on stage and tell your opening joke and SILENCE. Or some guy yells out a heckle that gets a pop from the crowd. Plan A didn't work, so now it's time to have a Plan B. Sure, you can commit to the jokes you wrote, but is that really going to be productive?

A Plan B on stage might mean pleasant crowd work ("Thank you sir. I was afraid we would both bomb after that first joke. Clearly, you're the pro.") or shifting energy to go after them ("Okay shut the fuck up, buddy! If I'm not getting a laugh, no one is!"). It's a terrifying pivot, but sometimes it has to be done. 

Plan B might mean going into your best bit early and then forcing yourself to turn your second and third tier bits into better jokes. Louis CK, before the scandals, said he would start with his closer to force himself to write better jokes the rest of the set. It's a highwire act, but it's also thrilling. 

Plan B might mean going from clean to dirty or from dirty to clean. Sometimes you walk on stage and you punch the audience in the nose with some gross joke and lose them. Maybe shift gears and go find a more evergreen joke and go back to your shock jock routine later. The reverse can be true too. You started too clean, too bland. Maybe hit the crowd with a more risky joke. I don't swear too much on stage, but to survive bar shows I had to find material that was more in tune with dirtier minds. So I wrote jokes about accidently dating adult film actresses and hard conversations with my doctor about post heart attack blood flow issues. So I wrote MY VERSION of sex and dick jokes. And I feel like I can still say those jokes in most shows. 

In my first few years I would just plow through my set list, despite knowing I'm bombing. It was after watching a few pros make the switch when they bombed, I started pulling Plan B's out of my comedy tool box. 

Plan B Might Be the Type of Comedy Career You Have
Back in 2017 I watched Steve Martin's Masterclass. While 90% is unusable in today's comedy market, there was one idea that really stuck out to me. He states that not all jokes are for the stage. Some jokes are for sketches, screenplays, songs, or TV shows. Maybe you love doing stand up, but your jokes fall flat because they'd work better as a sketch or TV Show. I know a lot of comics who were doing straight forward stand up only to pivot to musical comedy and blow up on TikTok and the college market. They're now national touring comics. 

While most of us desire the Dave Attell experience of just walking on stage and everyone hangs on our every word, many comics found their home in comedy with the Plan B. They wrote sketches for SNL like Al Franken. They wrote and produced movies like Judd Apatow. They became talk show hosts like David Letterman. They wrote for Late Night Shows. They transferred their talents to other comedy platforms. I know it sounds funny that they took these lucrative jobs, but there's a reason many used these credits to get more stand up gigs later. Stand up was Plan A. Doing a 10 hour a day job was Plan B. 

Don't feel like if you switch from stand up to producing comedy shows you're "quitting." Albert Brooks, Jim Carrey, Amy Schumer, and Eddie Murphy all gave up stand up when they could. Meanwhile, Apatow went back into standup after building the careers of Seth Rogan (another former stand up) and others. Sometimes Plan B gives you the freedom to do Plan A later in life.

The key is not to limit yourself. Look at your strengths and dedicate yourself to those areas where people seem to engage the most with you. Success breeds success. So once you find an area you can excel in, it will only help you with other areas of this industry.  

Plan B Might Be Pivoting To Other Careers    
In Fight Club, Tyler Durden speaks of how our generation was told they could have anything, and clearly, we are seeing that was a lie, or at least a false reality for Gen X and below. It is in his words, "We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."  
It's a hard reality that you might never get to be a full time stand up or work in the comedy industry beyond a certain point. Yet, there's a small percentage who get to make this a full time gig. I know many award winning comics who quit their day jobs and found themselves a year later back to the 9-5 grind. There's no shame in making sure you are housed, fed, and safe. Are there stories of homeless comics who made it? Yes. But that isn't a real pathway. If you sleep in your car for a couple days in between housing or moving, sure. If it's a year, then it might be time to reevaluate your situation. 

That doesn't mean you can't use your comedy skills to launch better careers. Plenty of comics transitioned into marketing careers, tech careers, customer service management, construction, etc. You can use your skills to become better than your 9-5 competition. I've gotten a lot of jobs ranging from writing OSHA approved white papers to biotech video scripts to comedy traffic school to sales manager by using comedy as a strength. Some hiring managers might think you're a court jester, but if you can make them laugh, you make them listen.    

This isn't Plan A for many, but I've seen too many comics with unrealistic expectations find themselves on the other side of financial ruins and depression because they're ten years in and despite killing it on stage, they're bombing in life. It's okay to move slow and methodical. It's okay to get up twice a week and work the other days to maintain a life worth living. When people say, "It's either this or nothing..." I feel for them.

Life is so big with so many pathways to meaning and purpose. I can promise you every successful comic you admire has problems too. Bill Burr once said there are plenty of men who lay in big comfortable beds with mortgages and families that wish they were sleeping on a futon with no bills and just the freedom of doing what they want. If reaching the highest points of comedy, acting, or singing was really a victory, then why do we read so many stories of those stars whose lives end in the rubble? 

Final Thoughts 
Plan B's are not a four letter word. Technically it's a 5 letter word. And sometimes Plan B's are just for a moment. Maybe you have to adjust your set from time to time. Maybe you have to rethink how to showcase your comedic talents. Maybe you have to work another job until your break comes through. Or maybe your break doesn't come, but you just get to be a stand up on your nights off. All of these roads are plausible and respectable. 

​I once saw a bumper sticker that said "other people's opinions don't pay my bills." Whether you internalize the need for success or you externalize it, because you need to prove yourself to others, both can lead to unwelcomed thoughts, behaviors, or pathways. You have to be true to yourself and your situation, knowing that in the end your Plan B might still be someone else's Plan A.