How to Write Stronger Comedy Material

Tina Cruz performing a new musical comedy set at Comedy on Mackay

Writing is probably one of the hardest parts of stand-up because the goal is not just to be funny. The goal is to craft material that sounds distinctively like you.

Your best jokes should feel like they could only come from your brain, your life, your damage, your weird little emotional filing cabinet.
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There are other types of comedy where people create characters rooted in truth, and I honestly think that can be even harder. If you are playing a character, you have to be convincing enough that the audience believes the world you are creating. The moment you break that, the joke falls apart.

I had the opportunity to teach elements of comedy writing in my Narrative & Writing course at Concordia University. One of my students asked if she could write a five-minute English stand-up set as her final project.

I was so happy when she asked me.

We worked on the material, had her test it at a paid show, and then she performed it as her final exam.

And she crushed it.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned from teaching writing is that strong material usually comes from lived experience. But before an audience can care about your story, they need to understand who they are looking at.

They don’t know you yet.

That is why it can be useful to start with what the audience already sees or hears. Your accent. Your outfit. Your energy. Your job. Your awkwardness. Your divorce aura. Whatever is immediately present in the room.
Use it.

If you are from a specific place, talk about it. If you wear weird shirts, use that. If you are a nerd, double down. If you have the energy of someone who owns too many notebooks and one emotional support water bottle, congratulations, that is branding.

The audience appreciates specificity because specificity feels real.

The more you try to sound like everybody else, the less memorable you become.

Make Your Premise Clear

A premise can be weird, dark, personal, or fantastical, but it still has to be clear.

If the audience does not understand the setup, they cannot follow the joke. And if they cannot follow the joke, they cannot laugh at the punchline.

This is why word economy matters.

You can say a lot with very few words when the writing is precise. Restraint keeps the audience listening. Too much explanation can drain the joke before it even has a chance to land.

A strong premise gives the audience just enough information to follow you, but not so much that they get ahead of you.

Talk About Lived Experience

Personally, I get bored when I hear the same generic material over and over again.

For example, I have heard a lot of white dudes talk about why their wives won’t have sex with them anymore. And honestly, some of them get huge laughs.

But the ones who do it well usually understand the point of view. They know they are part of the problem. They understand the trashiness. They understand why the divorce papers arrived with emotional accuracy.

That is the difference.

A familiar topic can still work if the perspective is honest.

When I worked with my student, I told her to think about one of the most difficult moments of her life and explore it. She ended up talking about her childhood sweetheart who died.

That sounds impossible to make funny.

But she found a way in. She made it engaging, specific, and emotionally honest. She did not make fun of the tragedy. She found the human details around it.

That is where strong comedy lives.

Not in pretending pain is funny, but in finding the strange, specific, absurd details that surround it.

Revise Your Material

Be discerning about your jokes.

Not everything is going to be funny right away, and that does not mean the idea is bad. Sometimes the premise is strong, but the wording is weak. Sometimes the punchline is right, but it is in the wrong place. Sometimes the funniest part is buried in the middle and you need to move it to the end.

Revision is where comedy becomes craft.

Try changing one word. Cut the extra setup. Alter the order. Say the joke backward. Work from the punchline and ask yourself if the premise actually leads there.

Sometimes I find it useful to reverse-engineer a joke. If I know the punchline is strong, I look backward and ask: what does the audience need to know for this to land?

That process matters.

Writing stronger comedy material is not about waiting for inspiration to magically arrive while you stare into the void like a depressed raccoon.

It is about listening, testing, rewriting, and learning what makes your voice different.
The more specific you are, the more universal you become.

That is the annoying truth of comedy.

The stuff you think is “too weird” or “too personal” is often the exact material people remember.

Looking to develop your first set? Drop by our monthly open mic at Comedy on Mackay or Open Book Mic in Montreal. Every great comedian starts somewhere, and the best way to improve is by getting stage time.