What’s next?

It took me six years to write, perform, and hone the material for my latest stand-up special, Happily Lesbian After. It took another half a year to edit it, transcribe it, and prepare it for release (trailer, screenshots, press release, all the unsexy stuff). I’m incredibly thankful that Laugh After Dark TV released it on their platform. I feel grateful that the hard work paid off.

And yet, it’s left me wondering: what next?

In a way, it’s exciting. The material is out there now, essentially memorialized. I did a thing! I don’t hate the thing! I may even, dare I say, be proud of the thing. And then the fear hits. It’s in its final form. Done. Finito. Over.

If I’m being honest, there’s a strange emptiness that comes after releasing something you’ve been living inside for years. When you’re working toward a special, everything has direction. Every set is about sharpening jokes, about the structure of the whole piece, about how everything fits together. There’s a clear goal. There’s comfort in that. There’s a finish line.

And then one day, you cross it.

Suddenly, there’s no checklist. No looming deadline. No joke that has to work because it’s been closing your set for three years. You wake up and realize you’re back at the beginning, and that can feel scary.

This part doesn’t get talked about enough.

Sometimes you hear people talk about a famous comedian and say, “I haven’t seen them release anything in a long time.” I promise you, it’s not because they’re sitting around doing nothing. They’re working on the next thing. There’s pressure, both internal and external, for the next big idea, the next punchline, the next hit.

So what’s next?

Starting from scratch. More writing. More stage time. Almost certainly more bombing. A new direction. A new excitement.

For now, I’m trying to stay in the part where it’s both terrifying and exciting. The part where nothing is finished yet. The part where comedy actually lives.

And if you watch Happily Lesbian After, thank you for being part of that six-year journey. I’ll see you at the beginning of the next one.