Comedy as Craft and Survival Tool in She Memes Well by Quinta Brunson
The Thematic Claim: Comedy as Craft and Survival Tool in She Memes Well by Quinta Brunson
In She Memes Well, Quinta Brunson presents comedy as both a disciplined craft and a survival tool—a third great love that demands persistence, vulnerability, and community while simultaneously helping her navigate grief, financial precarity, and the isolating realities of pursuing an artistic life. Comedy is not merely something Brunson does; it is something she studies, practices, and refines over decades, from childhood impressions to formal improv training to testing original characters in front of unforgiving audiences. At the same time, comedy functions as a coping mechanism, a way to process trauma, and a means of survival when the dream of making it in Los Angeles threatens to collapse under the weight of reality.
From Recital to Improv: Comedy as Learned Craft
Brunson's relationship with performance begins long before she ever tells a joke on stage. In V Is for Victory, she recounts her first recital at age five, where she performed ballet and acrobatics at Swarthmore College's Lang Performing Arts Center. The experience of being seen by her family—who leapt to their feet in a standing ovation—flipped a switch in her brain that could not be turned off. But more importantly, dance taught her the foundational skills she would later apply to comedy: discipline, persistence, and confidence. She describes how perfecting dance moves required hours, if not weeks, of repetitive motion, and notes that learning to do repetitive work well became a huge asset once she branched into creative pursuits. The lesson is clear: comedy, like dance, is a craft that must be practiced relentlessly.
This understanding of comedy as a learnable discipline deepens in Three Great Loves, when Brunson travels to Chicago to take a weeklong improv intensive at Second City. She arrives expecting that comedy is something you either have or you don't—she wonders, what was a comedy class, since you're either funny or you're not—but quickly discovers that improv has a formal methodology. She lists the universal principles she learns: always say yes, and, think today is the day, don't teach but do, prepare for the unpredictable, and remember that improv is life. These principles are not just stage techniques; they are frameworks for approaching the world with openness and adaptability.
The chapter also introduces Shelly Gossman, Brunson's first in-person example of someone who had made comedy their life. When Brunson admits she cannot afford the sketch writing course, Gossman gives her the five hundred dollars needed to enroll. This act of generosity is transformative—no one had ever given her money to do anything—and it signals that comedy is the first pursuit where someone believed in her enough to invest in her. The craft of comedy, Brunson learns, is not developed in isolation; it requires community and mentorship.
The Comedy Store: Vulnerability and Community in Practice
The chapter Girl Who's Never offers the most vivid demonstration of comedy as a craft tested under pressure. Brunson and her fellow performers—Kate, Carrie, Danny, and Matt—arrive at the Comedy Store to perform sketch comedy for an all-Black, uncle-and-auntie-age-group audience that came for stand-up. The bouncer's skepticism and the producer's pointed question about the lack of Black performers underscore the stakes. Brunson knows that Black audiences are the hardest to make laugh, and her friends are on the verge of backing out.
Her response is a masterclass in the craft she has been developing. She reassures her team: they can do this, their stuff is funny, and they will make the audience laugh. This is not blind confidence; it is the prepared mind that improv training instills. She has created a character—The Girl Who's Never Been on a Nice Date—that is personal and specific, drawn from her own frustrations with the dating scene. When she steps on stage and receives only one clap from her friend Abdul, she does not panic. She notices Judge Joe Brown in the audience and internally freaks out but does not let it show. She has a show to do.
The Comedy Store scene also highlights the communal nature of comedy. Brunson and her friends are a bunch of comedy nerds trying to string a show together, supporting each other through a hostile room. When Danny's sketch draws heckles, they still count it as a success. The craft of comedy, Brunson suggests, is not a solitary pursuit; it is built in community, tested in front of audiences, and refined through shared risk.
Comedy as Survival: Money, Grief, and Processing
If comedy is a craft in Brunson's telling, it is also a survival tool. In Hi, Handsome, she recounts taking a phone sex job after moving to Los Angeles, framing it as a solid improv exercise that would let her work on her craft and make money. The framing is darkly comic—she is improvising sexy stories for strangers to pay her rent—but the desperation underneath is real. When the first caller's vulgarity overwhelms her, she hangs up, furious with herself for not being able to suck it up and make money for the sake of survival. The four-dollar check she receives two weeks later is a punchline, but it also reveals the economic precarity that shadows her comedy dreams. She returns to Apple, humiliated, and resumes the grind: working retail during the day, doing comedy at night.
The survival function of comedy becomes more explicit in the 2020 chapter. As the pandemic unfolds, Brunson loses a friend and a family member to COVID, watches George Floyd's killing, and experiences a panic attack at a protest in West Hollywood. In the footnotes, she reveals that she used television comedies as an escape from difficult situations. Comedy, in this context, is not just a career; it is a lifeline. It offers a way to process grief and trauma without being consumed by them. The chapter ends with personal milestones—Emmy nominations, selling a show to ABC, her boyfriend's proposal—suggesting that comedy has carried her through the darkest period of her life and into a moment of professional and personal fulfillment.
Character and Symbol Connections
The theme of comedy as craft and survival tool is woven through Brunson's relationships with the key figures in her life. Her mother, Norma Jean Brunson, appears as the one who enrolled her in dance classes and applied her makeup before the recital—the first person to invest in her performance ambitions. Her father brought home the family's first computer, which opened the door to the internet and viral videos. Her brother Kwei introduced her to the Peanut Butter Jelly Time dancing banana video and the world of online comedy. Each family member contributed to the ecosystem that made comedy possible.
Shelly Gossman stands apart as the mentor who validated Brunson's talent and funded her education. Malik, her first boyfriend, was the only person in the audience at her first improv show—a reminder that comedy's early stages are often witnessed by just one or two people. The fellow performers at the Comedy Store represent the community that comedy builds and requires.
The symbols in the book reinforce these connections. The stage is where comedy is tested and where Brunson experiences freedom—no road map ahead of her, just a series of tools to help her perform. The couch, where she writes and processes her life, is the domestic counterpart to the stage. The phone, from the camera phone that made her He Got Money girl to the phone sex line that paid her four dollars, is a tool of both creation and survival. Makeup, applied by her mother before the recital and later a struggle to find the right shade, represents the preparation and transformation that performance requires.
Complexity and Contradiction
The theme of comedy as craft and survival tool contains an inherent tension. Comedy requires vulnerability—Brunson describes falling in love with improv because it felt like the freedom to be her all-in self without fear of what others would think. Yet comedy also functions as armor, a way to deflect pain and process trauma without fully confronting it. The phone sex job is the starkest example: Brunson tries to turn her craft into a survival mechanism, but the reality of the work is degrading, and she cannot sustain it. The contradiction is that comedy can be both a calling and a hustle, both a source of joy and a reminder of precarity.
There is also a tension between comedy as escape and comedy as engagement. In the 2020 chapter, Brunson uses comedy to escape difficult situations, but she also creates political memes and participates in mutual aid. Comedy, in her hands, is not a retreat from reality but a way of engaging with it on her own terms. The craft she has spent years developing becomes a tool for processing the collective trauma of a pandemic, racial violence, and political upheaval.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does Brunson's early dance training at L and L Dance Productions prepare her for a career in comedy?
Brunson credits dance with teaching her the art of discipline and persistence as well as confidence and self-respect. The repetitive motion required to perfect dance moves—hours or weeks of practice—became a template for the relentless practice comedy demands. The recital also gave her her first experience of being seen on stage and receiving a standing ovation from her family, which flipped a switch that drove her to pursue a life of performance.
2. What role does Shelly Gossman play in Brunson's development as a comedian, and what does her $500 gift represent?
Gossman is Brunson's first in-person example of someone who had made comedy their life. She validates Brunson's talent and, when Brunson cannot afford the sketch writing course, gives her the five hundred dollars needed to enroll. The gift represents the power of mentorship and community in an industry where talent alone is not enough. It also signals that comedy is the first pursuit where someone believed in Brunson enough to invest in her.
3. How does the Comedy Store performance test Brunson's craft, and what does she learn from it?
The Comedy Store performance places Brunson and her fellow performers in front of an all-Black audience that came for stand-up, not sketch. Brunson knows that Black audiences are the hardest to make laugh, and her character receives only one clap at its introduction. The experience tests her ability to trust her material and her preparation. It also demonstrates the communal nature of comedy: her friends support each other through a hostile room, and Brunson's confidence reassures her team when they are on the verge of backing out.
4. In what ways does Brunson use comedy as a survival tool, particularly in Hi, Handsome and the 2020 chapter?
In Hi, Handsome, Brunson takes a phone sex job and frames it as a solid improv exercise that would let her work on her craft and make money. The framing is comic, but the desperation is real: she is trying to survive financially while pursuing her dream. In the 2020 chapter, comedy becomes a way to process grief and trauma—she loses a friend and family member to COVID, watches George Floyd's killing, and experiences a panic attack at a protest. In the footnotes, she reveals that she used television comedies as an escape from difficult situations. Comedy, in both cases, is a lifeline.
5. What contradiction exists between comedy as vulnerability and comedy as armor in Brunson's narrative?
Brunson describes falling in love with improv because it felt like the freedom to be her all-in self without fear of what others would think. This is comedy as vulnerability. But comedy also functions as armor: it allows her to process pain without being consumed by it, to escape difficult situations, and to survive economic precarity. The phone sex job is the starkest example of this tension—she tries to turn her craft into a survival mechanism, but the reality is degrading and she cannot sustain it. The contradiction is that comedy can be both a calling and a hustle, both a source of joy and a reminder of precarity.