How to make a special, special
It’s less than two weeks away from the taping of my new comedy special, and I’m feeling all the feelings: excited, nervous, grateful, nauseous — the usual mix of “yay” and “oh no” that comes with putting something big out into the world.
I’ve been working hard on the material. It’s tight. It’s honest. It’s queer. And it makes me laugh, which is usually a good sign. But as I learned the very hard way during the taping of my first special — Sturdy Lesbian Lumber — there’s a whole lot more to filming a special than just being funny on stage.
So this time around, I’m not just focusing on the jokes. I’m also taking all the lessons I learned the first time — the ones no one tells you about when you decide to film your own stand-up — and putting them into action. Here’s what I’m doing differently this time:
1. Invest in Yourself
It’s easy to think, “I’ll just get a friend to film it,” or “It doesn’t matter what it looks like, as long as the jokes are good.” But I’m here to tell you: it does matter. A lot.
We live in the digital age. People watch stand-up on their phones, laptops, TVs — and if the sound is bad, or the camera’s shaky, or the image looks like it was shot through a sock... they’re going to turn it off. You don’t want people squinting at the screen or asking, “Wait, what did she say?”
This time, I hired pros. Because I believe in this work, and because I know that when I put money into it, I’m also saying, “Hey, this is worth it.” And that kind of belief — in yourself and your comedy — shows up in every frame.
2. Look Good (Even If You Don’t Care About Looking Good)
I’m not someone who’s super into fashion. I don’t wear makeup. I don’t plan outfits. Most of the time, I’m aiming for "comfortable queer Muppet," and that’s just fine.
But for a special? That’s a different story.
For tapings, I pick an outfit carefully. I think about how it will look on camera. I avoid anything too loud or too distracting. I make sure the colors work with the background. Not because I suddenly care about being stylish, but because I want nothing to take away from the material. I want the audience focused on what I’m saying — not the wrinkled shirt I found on the floor.
So no, I’m not changing who I am. I’m just showing up like I give a damn. Because I do.
3. Practice, Practice, Practice
Yes, this is your material. Yes, you’ve told these jokes a hundred times. And yes, the words are tattooed on your brain.
Still — practice.
Practice the set in the exact order you’ll perform it. Practice with the transitions. Time it. Get a feel for the flow. Practice when you’re tired, when you’re anxious, when you’re not in the mood. Because once those cameras start rolling, the muscle memory is what’s going to carry you through.
I’m running it like a play. I know the blocking, I know the beats, and I know what happens when I blink and suddenly realize I’m halfway through.
4. Promote Yourself
This is a big one. You can’t assume people know what you’re doing — or that they’ll show up just because it’s meaningful to you.
When I taped Sturdy Lesbian Lumber, I was weirdly shy about promoting it. I didn’t want to come off like I was bragging. I told a few friends. I posted once or twice.
Now? I shout it from the rooftops. I post about it. I talk about it on stage. I send emails. Because guess what? You should brag. It is a big deal. And the people who support you want to show up for you — they just need a heads-up.
5. Be Yourself (Even When There’s a Camera on You)
This is the one that sounds easy and is actually the hardest. Because the second that camera light turns red, it’s tempting to change. To perform in a way that doesn’t feel like you. To go into “host” mode or “TV” mode or some version of yourself you think will look better on video.
Don’t do it. Be you. The same version of you who gets on stage at open mics. The you who bombs sometimes. The you who wins people over by being real.
That’s what the audience came to see — and that’s what the people watching later will connect with.
TL;DR:
Filming a stand-up special is part comedy, part event planning, part emotional endurance sport. But I’m doing it again — because I have something to say. Because I believe in the work. And because I’ve learned how to make the whole experience a little smoother, a little stronger, and a whole lot more fun.
So if you’re thinking of filming your own special? Do it. But take it seriously. Prepare like it matters — because it does.
And if you’re in New Orleans on July 25th, come to Sports Drink. I’ll be filming. It’s funny, it’s weird, it’s mine — and I can’t wait to share it with you.
