How to Become a Comedian: 14 Honest Steps From the Stage
Laughter is such a pure, visceral reaction — tantamount, maybe not always but often, to having an orgasm. The emotional relief I always felt after watching John Cleese do a silly walk, or be so adamant about his rightness even when he was absolutely wrong about everything, is a high so easily achieved and sustained.
Taking a trip on the Discworld on the back of an elephant, meeting a multitude of weird and wonderfully funny creatures, and being party to the most outlandish, magical and absurd experiences is the antidote to the desolation you feel while watching your own planet burn.
For anyone wondering how to become a comedian, especially later in life, outside the big cities, or without a clear roadmap – this is not a guide written from theory. This is lived experience.
A long time ago, in a past iteration of myself, I decided to stop reading, watching or consuming — for pleasure — anything that wasn’t funny or fantasy. I had an epiphany: movies that were too deeply emotional, or books too mired in the construct of someone else’s trauma, were simply not good for my soul.
To the extent that I would become morose and moody for days — even weeks at times — made so by these stories (sometimes made up, sometimes true) of other people’s lives.
And dear reader — you might wonder what the hell happened to me that I should have such a strong response to a simple story. The answer is: I have no bloody idea.
Although there is a strong possibility that I was simply so sick and tired of being sad. I just knew that I needed off the wheel of misery. And so I started seeking out comedy in all its marvellous forms — books, movies, plays, shows and actual comedians.
Which, of course, led me on my own personal journey to becoming a comedian.
So, as a way to inspire you, here are my 14 simple steps to becoming a comedian.
1. Convince yourself that you’re funny
Look – this wasn’t particularly difficult to do. My days are peppered with me laughing at myself or saying out loud, You’re so funny, Chantal. (In fact, I’ve just done that.)
And if you think you’re funny, the odds that someone else might find you funny are about 10%. Which is a lot more than some of the rooms I’ve performed in.
2. Do a values exercise that surprises you
Those values exercises are relatively easy to come by on the World Wide Web. I used Brené Brown’s, which you can find online.
My values turned out to be generosity and humour – a far cry from honesty, integrity, people and family, which seems to be the tired old norm. But I’ll take it. A magnanimous Chocolate Factory owner with a warped sense of humour is definitely more my vibe.
3. Find a real comedian and team up with her
Then I met Nolwazi Nkwandla. This young, black, funny woman walked onto a stage ahead of Schalk Bezuidenhout to open his show and started talking about some crazy shit, based on some very weird life experiences – and I was convinced.
When I grow up, I want to have the balls and audacity of Nolwazi – to talk about a whole lot of kak on stage in front of a room full of strangers.
4. Ask the guys to help
As you would probably guess, this was not a particularly successful endeavour. Although I have had some really good advice from some of my male peers.
Oddly enough, it’s the more well-established comedians who are prepared to give their time and energy to help a delusional woman fulfil a menopausal dream. Because the dreams have definitely changed now from domestic bliss, the perfect family and a Greek god lookalike husband. Those were true delusions.
5. Be prepared to fail
“The clown falls down so that we don’t have to.” – Slava Polunin
This quote specifically references the art form of clown, but it is applicable to stand-up comedy too. Glossophobia (the fear of public speaking) is often cited as humanity’s biggest fear, sometimes surpassing the fear of death.
Hence, we die on stage for your mild amusement and our own learning. If we don’t fail, we can’t learn. And what better teacher than a little stage time in front of an unforgiving audience to help you hone your craft?
6. Start your own open mic
If you want the stage time, you’ve got to build your own stage. Yes – I said that. Especially in a city where comedy is not particularly well established.
Stage time is drummed into you as the best way to work on material. And laughing at yourself in front of a mirror isn’t always enough.
7. Write a five-minute set
I find life funny. The people around me, and my interactions with them, are a constant source of amusement and often hysteria. Because if you’re not going to laugh, you’ll never stop crying.
But once you start writing, you constantly have to be aware of the formula: setup → punchline. And, of course, minimise your words. Why say something in 25 words when you can use 3?
Five minutes doesn’t sound like much. Then you write it, perform it, tweak it, perform it, rewrite it and perform it again – and suddenly you understand exactly how long a piece of string is.
8. Build a community of comedians who want stage time
Start looking for local comedians. To be honest, I didn’t even realise they existed in Gqeberha. But once word got out, they found us.
Comedians are ruthless in their quest for stage time, and one sniff of the words open mic results in an avalanche of DMs asking for five minutes. We now have forty five comedians on a WhatsApp Group. Looking for a stand-up comedian for your next staff function? The Friendly City Comedy Crew has got you covered.
Here is one of the most important things that makes me love comedy so much: it is rare for me to be in a room, or on a lineup, with anyone who looks even remotely like me.
This community is diverse and colourful in every sense, and even though it’s male-dominated, it has resulted in friendships with people I probably would never have got to know otherwise.
9. Run yourself ragged and spend all your money organising gigs for other people
This is relentless, time-consuming and expensive. But do it anyway. You’ll learn some great lessons – like who you can rely on, who takes their craft seriously, and how to stage and produce a show.
You’ll learn about tech and theatres and all the behind-the-scenes stuff. You’ll learn how to write press releases and create better marketing material.
Some things you might never learn – like how to budget properly, what marketing actually works, or whether the resident rat will make an appearance on stage that night.
10. Be prepared to fail (again)
It helps if you have a stash of cash to start with. But you show me someone who has money to spare, and I’ll show them how to spend it.
Failure to run a profitable show is a given, and staging a comedy show is often out of reach for the community. But we do it anyway. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.
11. Write about your own personal trauma and call it a one-woman show
I had a deeply personal, shame-filled story that needed to see the light of day. An alcoholic since my early twenties, through motherhood, divorce and a chequered career, I eventually quit drinking after a stint in rehab.
Fifteen years sober, I had not spent much time reflecting on my life. The realisation that the answer to the question What is wrong with me? was probably ADHD resulted in my one-woman show, ADHD, the Bottle and Me.
Writing it, and doing the self-reflection that comes with retelling something this deeply personal and shameful, led me to one pressing question: How the hell do I make this funny?
12. Team up with another real comedian and ask her to direct your show
Sophie Joans was the catalyst. An accomplished comedian, clown, playwright and producer, she offered to direct my show.
There was a lot of hand-holding, structure, encouragement, gentle nudging and validation – and without her, I can confidently say there would never have been a show.
The shame has now seen the light of day, and with a sprinkle of humour, ADHD, the Bottle and Me has played at two festivals and various stages in Gqeberha, Cape Town and Johannesburg.
13. Keep writing, performing and rewriting jokes
And then never stop – and this really is a note to self. In the general busyness of life, it’s a challenge to prioritise yourself and keep doing the work.
It can be boring. Too structured. It can feel more like a chore than growth. But stick with it. I have about 93 recordings of jokes on my phone that I still need to get down on paper.
I’ve committed to writing them out and performing them in one way or another. Maybe on social media, maybe at the next open mic, maybe as an MC, maybe just to my family or my unforgiving mirror. You’ve got to figure out what works for you.
14. Be prepared to fail (one last time)
Becoming a comedian is easy. Becoming a comedian that people are willing to part with their hard-earned cash to watch on stage is quite a bit harder. And it takes time.
We’re building the know, like and trust factor. It’s like the Oreo ad: first they get to know you, then they get to like you, and then they get to trust you. Trust that they will come to an event where you are on stage, love what you have to say, and hopefully even laugh.
Life cannot be lived to the full if we obsess over all the things that could – and do – go wrong. We should seek joy: in the little things, the big things, and even the sad and shameful things.
My quest for joy is being on stage and, hopefully, making at least 10% of the audience laugh.
If you’re serious about learning how to become a comedian, the only real answer is time, failure, and showing up again, and again and again.
And remember – he who laughs….lasts.