Why Most Comedians Are So Forgettable

The Specificity Paradox (Comedy Mindhacks #92)

Early on in my stand-up career, I thought the goal was simple and obvious: write material everyone can relate to and focus on universal experiences. In short, go as general and universal as possible. So, I leaned into “topics”: dating, parenting, church, traffic, all the usual suspects. It felt like a safe and smart way for me to get consistent laughs. And like many things, on paper, it made perfect sense to me.

But…nothing really changed. Sure, I wasn’t bombing all the time; however, I was forgettable. And in a profession where you want to be undeniable, the antithesis of that is being forgettable. It’s the kind of comedy that gets polite laughs but there’s nothing to it that carries beyond the stage. That is when I realized something was off, even if I couldn’t quite explain what.

Eventually, I got it; I figured out what was happening. When I relied on generic observations, my jokes were forgettable because they didn’t demand anything from the audience. What I mean is, sure, they might land in the moment and get a small laugh, but they weren’t the kinda jokes that would stay with people. And that’s wholly different than material that actually sticks, the kind that people repeat back weeks later because they want others to hear the joke. The difference is, those types of jokes are almost always rooted in things that are more specific and more personal. And oddly enough, when you start with experiences that are specific and personal rather than general “topics,” the jokes typically end up being universal enough that anyone can get them. But it’s that shift from starting specific rather than general that led to a change in my noticing, my writing, and my performing.

When I write now, for instance, I’m not looking for “topics” everyone will relate to. I’m looking for experiences that feel so specific and so personal that they shouldn’t work for anyone else. I want the detail that feels almost too small or too weird to matter. That’s often where the joke actually is, even if it doesn’t feel like it at first. Again, there’s almost an irony in all this: if I started from a generic/general place, the less effective the jokes seemed to be while the more specific I became, the more universal the reaction seemed to be.

I think I’ve realized the reason: being specific creates pictures in the audience’s mind. If I say generically, “My family is crazy!” the audience hears a vague idea that doesn’t really land anywhere. But if I zoom in on one moment, the exact thing someone in my family said or did, now they can actually see or hear it. Once they can see or hear it, they’ll follow me into the story, even if they’ve never lived that exact experience themselves. That realization changed how I write. I just started a new “Comedy Tips” series yesterday and I address this very thing in the video below. Stop reading for 1 minute and give it a watch.

I’ve come to realize the benefits of zooming in on specific moments instead of talking about whole ideas or my whole life. I get specific and I’ve also tried to start cutting anything that sounds like something anyone could or would say. That last part is brutal and I’m not always successful at it, but I think it’s necessary if I want to sound like myself.

There is also something deeper going on here than just technique. I’ve found that when I get specific, I usually end up revealing something that feels emotionally true. And, as I’ve written about numerous times on this site, focusing on emotional truth over factual truth is huge when it comes to joke writing. The audience can sense the difference between something I lived and something I’m performing. They know when I’m saying something real versus when I’m giving them what I think they want. That kinda honesty creates a connection that can’t be manufactured.

It’s the difference between trying to say what I think an audience wants and saying what I want. It’s the difference between telling jokes about my experiences from my perspective and negotiating with the audience to try to figure out what “topics” they want to hear jokes about. Put another way: the minute I start trying to please audiences is the minute I’ll stop saying anything that’s actually mine. But when I commit to being specific, the opposite happens: I stop sounding like everyone else and start writing material that only I can write.

And, of course, I’m not implying that I’m something special here. What I’m getting at is: I’m the only person who lived that exact moment and noticed that exact detail. And it’s that perspective that can’t be copied, and that’s what begins to separate me. It gives my material weight and texture and contour and color and shape. Here’s the bottom line, if you will: when I stop trying to be relatable and start being specific, I give the audience something they can’t get anywhere else.

Audiences don’t need another take on how dating apps are weird or how kids are exhausting. They need to see the strange, hyper-specific thing I noticed throughout my day last Tuesday that nobody else did. That’s what sticks. In a phrase: generic observations die, specific details live. Trying to appeal to everyone is the fastest way for me to appeal to no one. So, I write what makes me laugh and trust that if I make it clear and honest enough, the audience will join me. That’s my standard. And it’s pretty ironic or even paradoxical! The more I narrow my focus, the wider my reach becomes. ❦

By the way, don’t forget about my live joke writing workshop at 10am EST Saturday/tomorrow (4/4/26). I’ll be going live HERE. Bring a joke or just tune in and watch.

Fact: The two biggest fears for any comedian are staring at a blank page without a punchline, and standing under a hot spotlight and completely forgetting the next joke. So, I built two completely online, self-paced courses to solve both of these problems permanently. Join the growing community of working comedians and first-timers who’ve already used these labs to completely bulletproof their sets:

• The Joke Writer’s Lab: Stop guessing at what makes people laugh. In this self-paced, online course, you’ll get the tools to find your unique comedic persona and learn the exact mechanics of writing a bulletproof joke. Get it HERE.

• The Comedian’s Memory Lab: Never blank on stage again!!! Learn my insider method to build and flawlessly memorize your entire set, whether you are doing 3 minutes at an open mic or headlining for an hour. Get it HERE.