Submit to FOX’s New Stand-Up Comedy Show

Comedians, you’ve just been given a golden opportunity to have your work showcased on TV. Comedian Steve Hofstetter has been given TV show where he will host curated clips of stand-up comedians. The show will launch in several test markets on Saturdays at midnight, starting 8/2 and airing for 13 weeks.

Steve will be using this show as a “Stand-up Comedy News” type show to help give comedy fans an idea of what kind of work is going on around the country in the field of stand-up. Comics of all levels are invited to submit their professionally recorded clips for consideration.

This is a really great opportunity to have your work showcased on FOX, and help strength America’s perception of what stand-up comedy is today. If you are interested in submitting a clip for possible use, make sure it’s good quality, recorded at a club, and is FCC clean. The link for submissions is at

This is a legit show, and the industry announcement was made in Variety Magazine a few weeks ago, so this ain’t your local market “We’ll try to get you on public access” kind of deal. Steve Hofstetter is not only a phenomenal comedian himself, but he is one of the most industrious workers in the field today. He works hard to create opportunities for many other comics, and his success benefits everyone trying to make a career out of this.  Support this show, and Steve by connecting at:

Good luck guys.

Jamie Ward


There is no such thing as an open mic’er

There is no such thing as an open mic'er

With all due respect to professional comedians, I don’t think everyone is a professional comedian, I don’t think everyone is a good comedian, but I do believe everyone working at comedy has the right to call themselves a comedian.

This is a super cool short documentary on Mitch Hedberg

I don’t own the rights to this video. Someone shared it with me, and I wanted to help pass this along to people who might find this as awesome as I did.

I’m Not In Love With You Anymore

Dear Jokes,

I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m tired of hearing made up premise about time machines, velociraptors and imaginary products that are a hilarious combination of two other hilarious products. I’m tired of material that is delivered like “material.” Don’t get me wrong, you were funny at first and you’re very clever writing, but I noticed that we’re not in love anymore, so why should we expect audiences to be?

I don’t deliver your punchlines with the same conviction and freshness as when we first started out. Remember when I tested you out at open mics? You didn’t always work perfectly, but I think that was part of the excitement. Every time was like the first time, and it was that nervousness that made me vulnerable and honest. Then you got better, revised, rehearsed and everything changed. I started using you just to get my laughs per minute. I knew where to expect those laughs per minute, until something weird happened. Now neither of us is getting the laughs we’re used to. It’s like we don’t know each other anymore.

I think you should know I’ve been using some new material. It’s about my life. It’s about my feelings. It’s about me. The material is me, baring my soul on stage and I’m feeling a catharsis that you never provided. You were fun, but this is something real. I’m finding that I am way more passionate about this new material. Despite the fact that I’m delivering nearly the same lines each time I tell it, it’s different. Because this material is about me and my fears and weaknesses, I feel empowered every time the audience helps me laugh away these shortcomings. They don’t always seem to be laughing at my words so much as the universal truths and shared experiences behind my words. This isn’t just a validation of my jokes; this is a validation of me. This is what fuels my passion for comedy.

Now jokey-jokes, before you get all offended, I want you to know, I think you’re awesome. I don’t think my new style of writing is necessarily better than you. It’s just you’re not what I need at this point in my life. You and Mitch Hedberg were absolutely made for each other. Stephen Wright and you are a match made in heaven, and I can only hope to one day find such chemistry with my new writing style. There are plenty of other comedians out there who need what you provide, but I’m not one of them anymore.

You’ll always have a special place in my heart because you were the first set I ever wrote. I still hope to see you around open mics occasionally. Perhaps I’ll be able to drop a few of you in every now and then. I’m even open to the idea that one day we’ll share the stage again on a regular basis, but until that time, I think it’s best if you stay in the back of my old composition notebook. Thanks for everything.


Comedian Jamie Ward.

That is all.



I Need You To Be Better At Comedy

That being said, you need me to be better too. I need all the comedy shows to be better, but so do we all. I’m not asking anything of you that I don’t ask of myself. Don’t think I’m trying to be divisive; I’m actually trying to bring us all together. Here is why.

The biggest limit we place on ourselves as artists is fear. We are afraid that there is not enough work, we are afraid that we will never get the opportunity we think we deserve and we are afraid that the success of others is taking the chances that we feel entitled to. I have been guilty of all of these feelings and I have let them affect me to my own detriment. I’m trying to get over it, and the best way to get over these feelings is to let them go.

Comedy often feels like an individual activity. It may seem like a competition. We all want the same hosting/featuring/headliner spots. We all want to open for our favorite comic or get on “that” showcase. We tend to think that comedy and the entertainment industry is not the meritocracy we believe it should be, but we might all be wrong. Let me focus on the negative first.

  1. If you suck the audience will not enjoy the show. If you are bad enough, the audience will not want to see another comedy show. They may leave before I even get a chance to perform. They may never come to another comedy show ever.
  2. The same is true if I bomb and you kill it.
  3. If there is no audience it doesn’t matter how good either of us is.

A year ago, when I was much more intent on going it alone, I subscribed to a different philosophy. I used to believe that following someone who was terrible gave me the opportunity to look better by contrast. I’m still going to take that approach when it happens, but now a days I would much rather follow someone who does well. I’d far rather be a great comic on a great show, and you should too.

This may feel like a lot of back patting fluff right? Aren’t there still limited opportunities for those who rise to the top? Maybe right now, but that is a very short-sighted way to look at things, and comedy is not a game to be won in a single night or year for that matter.

Here is the positive effect of us all being better:

  1. Everyone does well > The show goes well > The audience feels like they get their monies worth > Some of them will come out to more shows.
  2. The more people coming to shows makes it possible for there to be more shows.
  3. More audience at shows produces more demand, and we are the supply. Now there is more work for all of us.

It is a sad fact that comedy attracts a lot of egos and some people will never be on board with this team philosophy. I wasn’t, and I may not be in the future, but I am now. We as entertainers are all on the same team. No one needs comedy. The world will keep spinning and society will keep functioning without weekly comedy shows. It is on all of us to continually justify our industry, the very industry that fuels our passions and livelihoods. There is room for all of us. If not tonight, there will be in the future, as long as we all keep getting better and moving forward.

That is all.

You’ll Never Find Your Comedic Voice…if you’re always looking.

You Will Never Find Your Comedic Voice…if you’re always looking for it. It will happen with time. If it doesn’t happen, you’re/I/we’re not going to make it anyway so it doesn’t matter. Finding our comedic voice is our goal.

What is this comedic voice?

A lot of people confuse comedic voice with the character that comedians create for the stage. Mitch Hedberg’s speech pattern, cadence and timing comprised his stage character. You can try to emulate that. I have. When I started comedy I was heavily influenced by Mitch and all my jokes were trying to sound like his. However, it didn’t work. I didn’t have the comedic voice to back it up. It wasn’t my voice.

The voice is the tone and consistency that connects all the material to the comic’s personality and viewpoint. That sounds like a lot of fluff words. It’s hard for me to give a specific definition so I’m going to describe the context of what I understand it to be.

You find your voice when you’re so comfortable with your material and the experience of being on stage that there is an honesty that makes your words synch with your attitude. When this happens you probably won’t be the first person to notice it.  I notice the voice developing in many comics before they are even aware that they are getting there. When you write a joke and the people who know you say “that joke sounds like a joke you’d write” that means that you’re really connecting between the attitude and emotion of your feelings and the words you are using to describe them.

How long does it take to find your voice?

About one year into comedy I had the privilege of hosting for a pretty established veteran comic of 20 years. I was really intimidated hosting for him because it was my first weekend working a real club on a weekend. He could tell, and he gave me some great advice. He said, “Just get out there and tell your jokes. Learn to tell your jokes. Learn to get a laugh. Your voice will come when it’s ready, but you’ll never even get the opportunity to develop your voice if you don’t spend time on stage being funny.” I still have a lot of hacky one-liners and such in my set, but I think more often I’ll find I’ve written jokes that naturally sound like they fit me and I find more and more my friends are able to sort of see the style of jokes that I tend to seem more authentic to my personality, which is funny because I don’t even notice that about my own writing most of the time.

Bottom line: there is no time frame.
Second bottom line: Your comedic voice is not a final destination. Only a marker on your way to further growth.

Final bottom line: We all want to find our comedic voice but the process has to happen organically, so until you find your Chris Rock or your Jim Gaffigan be true to yourself, develop in the way you want to develop, and most importantly remember that no one can fault you for having the voice of someone who is funny and having fun.

That is all.

Picking-up Women & Comedy: Two Topics I Shouldn’t Give Advice On

“Performing stand-up for an audience is like being on a first date. Jokes are just an excuse to have a conversation.”

I’m about to give some advice on two things I have no business giving advice on. Stand-up comedy and dating. Well, maybe not actual dating, but picking up women. Well, maybe not picking up women, but what I would do if I was more like the character from the sitcom in my head. Let’s start with the comedy part; because that’s the part I suck at less.

My friends are funny. When we hang out, the brilliant premises fly. So why is it so hard to take those premises, write brilliant jokes and then make them work on stage? I think the problem lies in the fact that we “wrote jokes.” I’ll explain.

If you’ve been performing more than a day, you probably know that the key to succeeding on stage is likeability. New comedians are often delivering their jokes like they’re reading a script. A lot of the jokes might even be great, but I think there is a false belief that the writing will carry them. I don’t think it will, “for most comics.”

Writing vs. Performing. If you think writing makes you a comedian, then you’re already losing the fight. There is already a place well written jokes. The internet, joke books, radio, twitter, billboards, everywhere. Why would people pay to see you live if you’re just going to regurgitate jokes? If they do, they’ll only do it once.

I don’t believe writing is not important. It is, but jokes are just an excuse to talk to the audience. A written joke from paper to the stage is like a pick-up line at a bar. Most pick-up lines are in fact jokes. And do pick-up lines work? Sometimes. It sort of depends on what it is you’re trying to accomplish. Now this is where there is a decision to make. What type of comedian do you want to be? Do you want to work clubs and one nighters or do you want to put on your own shows and connect to audiences in a larger way? Neither one is more correct, but comics are constantly making that choice before they even realize what they’re doing.

If you meet a girl at a bar and you make her feel hot, she may sleep with you tonight. If you let her know she’s beautiful, she may sleep with you forever. This is the same with comedy club audiences. Making an audience feel hot is delivering lines. It’s being flashy, impressive, reciting clever jokes you have written and performing your act. You make the audience feel beautiful when you make yourself vulnerable. You have to exist and be present on stage. Every audience is different, and they want to feel different and special. A beautiful audience will connect with you after the show has passed: friend you on facebook, visit your website, buy your merchandise. A hot audience will laugh at you tonight, shake your hand on the way out, and perhaps remember to tell their co-workers, “Hey I saw this comic last night, they were really funny, I don’t know who it was, but they were funny.” An audience that that was made to feel beautiful will want to remember your name and come see you again.

You can write your way to being a good comedian. I don’t care what anyone else says. I’ve seen it. Some people find a moderate to good level of success based solely on their ability to write clever and original material. I strongly believe that you will only ever become a great comedian if you are a funny person, and I don’t mean on stage. Be a funny person.

So how can you accomplish this? Here are the ways I try to develop this side of myself. Note, they are personal suggestions that I find helpful and I offer them as nothing more.

1. INTERACT WITH MORE PEOPLE: I am a shy person by nature, but I’ve been making an attempt to join more social groups, hobby groups and general groups of people. And I’m meeting people from different fields than comedy. You learn so much about what makes people laugh when you make people laugh. We can’t control who comes in to a comedy show, but we can prepare ourselves for who might come in to a comedy show.

2. BE FUNNY MORE OFTEN: I don’t think the only time I can test material is when I’m on stage. I realize a lot of comedians take this overboard and talk completely in bits. I’m guilty of bouncing premises off of unsuspecting civilians, but it’s really a much better opportunity to work on my crowd work, improv, and interacting with “audiences.”

3. GET PEOPLE TO LIKE YOU AS A NON-COMEDIAN: I think we all have this delusional desire to make people like us as comedians hoping that will translate into liking us as people. It’s far easier to get people to like you as a person and then have them come to a show and they’re already on your side before you tell your first joke. Be interesting, be charming, and don’t always feel like you have to be the funny guy, although, it’s almost always okay to be the funny guy.

By the way, I don’t really do any of this, but I hope to someday.

(Unofficial 4th: don’t go back on everything you just spent the previous 900 words trying to explain in the last sentence. That won’t impress anyone)

If Your Goal Is To Become A Better Comic, You Probably Never Will.

A lot of comics feel like they have to take the “mature” path and constantly be saying that their goal is to be a better comic, to be more in control of their act, to be a better writer. If these are the goals that you set for yourself, you’re already failing at achieving them. You may feel like you’re being shallow by saying, my goal is to get a Comedy Central Presents Special, or to get on Conan. I firmly believe that a comic that sets a goal of recording a DVD is already more likely to accomplish this goal, than a comic who just “wants to get to that professional level where you’re selling out shows and recording albums.”

People in general don’t know how to set goals. Aside from having no self-awareness or just being stupid, average people are always setting unattainable goals. Why 99% of goals set unattainable? Because they aren’t really specific goals. They are more generically-general wishes for personal or circumstantial improvement. “I’d like to be a better person.” “I’d like to be funnier.” “I’d like to set better goals.” These are all terrible goals because there is really no way to measure your success.

At the risk of sounding controversial (not that I care) I’m going to introduce some generally accepted
criteria for goal setting. There is an acronym that is often used in business as a way to determine whether your goal is a good goal or not. The acronym is SMART. If you need better definitions you can look them up.

S: Specific – Say exactly what your goal is.

M: Measurable – How do you know you’re making progress?

A: Attainable – Can it even be done.

R: Reasonable – Can YOU do it? Can you DO it?

T: Timely – When will it be accomplished?

I feel it is very important to always have a comedy goal in mind. I have short-term, medium-term and long-term goals. If I don’t have a goal before I go up on stage, I feel like I’m wasting
my time. These are not necessarily my goals, but they are examples of how I
think about it.

Short-term: one show or the shows in this week. (Try a new joke; add to my mailing list, etc.)

Medium-term: What is the next goal in my career path? (Better video, new set, start my own show)

Long-term: What I want to do before I quit or die. (Record a comedy album, Cable Comedy Special, Headline clubs and theater shows.)

Now these aren’t hard and fast rules, but they are a great guide for determining whether what you are saying is a real mission statement or just wishful thinking. My goals are constantly changing, but I have them down somewhere which helps me know if I am on track or getting distracted. My long-term goals may change as I start to knock off some of my medium term goals and redefine my ability and what is feasible.

Where this gets complicated, but I also believe important is when you’re trying to create comedy related goals. Because comedy is both an art and a science it is often very hard to talk about a subjective medium in empirical terms. Don’t sweat it. None of this is important. It is just one of the factors that is helping me find success.

Sometimes I have a goal that I can’t necessarily verbalize to others. It can still be a goal even if you can’t
exactly tell people what you mean. With that being said, I am always trying to convert my abstract goal concepts in to written mission statements. The reason I find this conversion important is, the ability to coherently verbalize your abstract thought is an indication that you really understand what your thought is. You’ve probably experienced the feeling of wanting to describe something to someone but lacking the words? (Think of love and other feeling type things) That doesn’t mean those thoughts are invalid, but people really connect with Shakespeare because his words hit sentiments felt by others. Random musings by confused illiterates such as myself are often lost on even the most basic level.    “You LOST me at hello.”

So what should you take away from this?

  1. Goals are a great motivator. Successful people typically share some basic habits and one of the biggest ones is having their goals physically written down somewhere. Statistically you are far more likely to accomplish your goals.
  2. Set comedy goals and comedy business goals. Don’t feel like you’re a sell out for saying your goal is to get on Comedy Central. A lot of us are thinking that and afraid to say it for fear of not being perceived as an authentic artist.
  3. Set goals and don’t be afraid to change them as you mature. I set goals based on what I am able to accomplish. As I improve my skills what I am able to accomplish changes and results in my goals changing.

For more advice on comedy business and goals check out a great website:

Connected comedy also has a great facebook fan page that features discussions, tips and advice. Connected Comedy is an on-line comedy community that is run by Josh Spector, who is a marketing
guru from LA, but trust me, he’s so much more. I’ve learned a lot about how to define my own success in comedy and how to take charge of my own comedy career both with and without the club scene.

That is all.


Don’t Worry About Being Too Smart For Your Audience. You’re Probably Not.

Don’t worry about being too smart for your audience, because you’re probably not.

I had a stupid little joke I old the first time I was ever on stage. “Dyslexia…(beat) that’s the punchline to my next joke.” In retrospect, most of my jokes from that first night of stand up were pretty stupid, but some people enjoy them and so I kept doing them. A take a real writer’s approach to comedy, and I put in a lot of time writing things that I believe to be very clever. I try to get my laughs from writing things that are often obscure thoughts and weird observations and I try to fully utilize all the tools
available to a comic.  Often times these premises are not immediately clear in their first iteration and it is usually only after a series of revisions do they become funny to general audiences. I will point out, they are typically factual and technically accurate, but not
always funny.

Something that I found interesting form early on was a phenomenon that taught me to reframe my view on “intelligent humor, and intelligent audiences.” Sometimes I would have one of those shows were people didn’t exactly “crack up.” They would laugh or chuckle. They would smile and I could tell from looking at them they were engaged, but there would never be momentous
laughter like a professional comedian wants. Occasionally, people would come up to me after the show and apologize for everyone else in the audience, and say things like “I liked you’re comedy. You’re smart, and don’t worry about the audience. They’re just not smart enough to get your jokes.” This used to make me feel better. Now it doesn’t.

It actually makes me feel worse now that I am a little more experienced. Instead of taking it as a justification of why the audience sucked (which I don’t consider to ever be an acceptable excuse) I feel like it means “Hey Jamie, instead of making your joke accessible to the most people you could, you made it resonate with the fewest possible.” And to a comic who is trying to make the
most people laugh more of the time doesn’t that sound kind of like a stupid plan?

If you think your material is too smart for certain audiences, then you are obviously waiting for those perfect audiences to set
the stage for success. If that is the case then you’re already beginning to fail. If I thought that I would eventually become a successful comedian by waiting to find the right audience who would “appreciate” my “intelligent” humor than I would have been sorely mistaken.

The average comedian is not going to be lucky enough to perform solely in comedy clubs and with perfect audiences. I’m from Atlanta, which is a great comedy city, and even I have to perform in all manner of clubs, rooms, and venues. I get progressive alt-comedy fans from what the city that Advocate magazine rated as “The Gayest City in the USA” as well as playing more rural rooms where I’m the only Chinese person that most of the audience members have ever seen…and I’m not even Chinese.

I was very fortunate to get the opportunity to take a workshop during the 2009 NC Comedy Arts Festival. The workshop was with a very accomplished comedian who is the stand-up comedy talent coordinator for The Late Show with David Lettermen. This workshop gave each of the 12 participants an opportunity to present our material and get honest feedback about what we
needed to do to be successful in the biz. People have different feelings about the usefulness of workshops and comedy classes, but this was being taught by the guy that books for Lettermen. I’m not trying to make this out like I had an audition, I’m simply emphasizing the fact, this guy sees MANY comedians on a daily basis, he knows who the players are and how they are doing, so I
considered his feedback valuable.

Well, he liked my material. He said he was surprised I had been at it as short a time as I had been but thought I was on the right track. The biggest piece of advice he gave me, something I remember and think about to this day, that my jokes might need to be as he called it, unpacked so they were more palatable to most audiences. THE IMPORTANT PART OF THIS: No one used
the expression “dumb down your jokes.” He didn’t tell me I needed to cater do “dumber” audiences. I’ve never felt I was “too smart” for crowds. It does happen that you might use a reference that geographically or generationally is missed, but the
bottom line is, funny is funny. Economy of words is extremely important to a comedian, but this is the one case I believe that sometimes it might be necessary to throw in an extra word or phrase to explain something in order for people to get your joke. They’ll forgive you if you make the joke worth it.

It takes a whole different level of intelligence to make your material resonate with all audiences. One of my favorite comedians, and I think a great example is Steve Martin. If you watch or listen to some of his stand up, he has some really intelligent joke construction, and uses some ridiculous jokes and sight gags to balance out his show.

“…Some people have a way with words, and some people, not have way.” – Steve Martin

*Notice how there is no mention of penises or strippers in this joke.

Being able to write to the top of the room’s intelligence level, and then make your jokes accessible to everyone else is not just smart, it’s brilliant. You have to be smarter than everyone in the room and then self-aware enough to present it in a way people will accept. One of the biggest flaws I see with really intelligent comedians is that they are so smart, and they want
the audience to know how smart they are. Nobody goes to a comedy club because they want to think. If you’re going to “Hicks” the audience then you probably need to ease them in and or trick them by making them laugh.

Something I can’t stand that a lot of comedians say is “I hate Larry The Cable Guy, he’s the stupidest comedian ever.” I don’t for a
moment believe that everybody needs to like Larry DCG, nor do I suggest you have to respect him, but you should. Dan Whitney found a character that resonates with millions, millions, yes read that, MILLIONS of people. That means he’s doing something right. The fact that he created this character and it’s not him makes it all the more impressive. Who among us wouldn’t like to
create a character that has multiple tv specials and sells out shows across the country?

I’d do it, if I could, but I’m not smart enough to be dumb enough right now. If I tried to do that, I’d probably oversell my ideocracy, so I’ll work on building myself up for a little bit more time before I unleash my personal, Rary The Cable Consultant.

That is all.


I Learned The Secret To Getting Booked.

This past week I was fortunate enough to perform at Laugh Your Asheville Off Comedy Festival in Asheville, North Carolina. I got to attend an excellent industry panel where 6 bookers/club owners discussed what they look for when hiring comics and what we as up and coming comics could do to make ourselves more marketable and most of all, get paying work. The secrets were simple and not all that unexpected, but it was good to hear it come straight from those who provide the opportunities.

And the secret is…there is no secret. BEFORE YOU STOP READING, there are some tips which really all focus on strengthening the fundamentals of comedy and good business sense.

  1. Be funny.  A lot of us love comedy because it’s an art. It’s the last vestige of free speech. It’s a pure, unadulterated art form. Don’t lose sight of the fact if you are performing, there is an audience that paid money to be entertained. Church is free. Comedy shows typically have a two item minimum. If you’re going to preach, make sure it’s funny.
  2. That being said, be original. The bookers really are people. Most of them got into the business because they are comedy fans. Clubs are not all looking to book the same “type” of comic. Clubs are always looking to book new and interesting talent. One of the club owners at this panel said that it is important for his club to book real talent early in their career and build a relationship with the comic, or else he’ll end up paying more later. Don’t be afraid to be original and unflinchingly uncompromising. Even if you are afraid you aren’t going to hit as hard as a “hack.” “You do you.”
  3. Another thought that got put out: “no one gets paid to tell jokes” and “clubs don’t pay comics.”

What that means is, you’re not getting paid for your clever writing, your brilliant performing or you engaging act. You’re being paid to “entertain.”

This ties into something that I’m always trying to tell new (and by new I mean newer than me relatively speaking, <18 Months) You’re just trying to form a relationship with the audience. You need them to like you. You’re jokes are just an excuse to talk to them.

3a. And the club isn’t paying you. The audience is your source of money. You may not be splitting the ticket money, but with out the audience, there is no live comedy experience for anyone.

So that is just some of the things we went over. I think the real question that some of you that have been doing this less than me (I reiterate 18> months so not long) all I can do is give you some advice on a possible career path. This is one route out of many, and one that I am journeying on as we speak.

(note this is a recommendation only to get to the point I have gotten to which is not saying much.)

  1.  perform everywhere you can. Get comfortable telling jokes. It doesn’t matter if they’re hack. You’ll become more original eventually. Hopefully.
  2. Get good tape of yourself. Go to the Laughing Skull open mic. For 10 bucks they’ll send you a high res copy of your set. Buy a flip camera and record. Record, record, record. You must record very set you can so you can get good footage of you doing well.
  3. What you are looking for is long, full, strong sets. Post a 5-10 minute full set on youtube, vimeo or rooftop. I post mine on youtube. NOTE: Mine are set to private. No one can watch them except people I choose to send the link to. Here is why.
  4. Use your footage to get on better shows. If you have good videos you can submit those to clubs, contests and festivals. Many bookers don’t want to look at tape of you, but some will. If your tape is good enough, you can go perform at better, bigger venues. When you’re performing there, make sure to get a recording of your set. Now you have even better footage.
  5. Continue to progress in your comedy, write, record, revise and then get better footage.

This is basically what I have done. I got into LYAO because I put together a tape that was good enough to fool them into giving me a spot. I had that tape because I record everything. Even the bad ones. Trust me, you learn more from a bad tape.

Basically, do what ever you can to surround yourself with better comics. It is fun being the big fish at a tiny club, the talent in a pool of new comics, the seasoned comic. But trust me, it’s better for you to be the worst comic in the room. That gives you room to grow, and motivation to move up.

That is all.