If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing Zach Zimmerman perform, you know there’s nothing off limits for this whip-smart comedian and writer.
Now living in New York City, this self-proclaimed “Southern queer atheist” grew up in a conservative, Baptist household in small-town Virginia. Suffice to say, this comic’s got a lifetime’s worth of material to draw from.
And while Zimmerman leaves it all on the stage each time he performs, that doesn’t mean he’s shared all of his stories quite yet. In fact, he’s saved some of his best, funniest, and most profound tales for his brand-new collection of essays, delightfully titled Is It Hot In Here (Or Am I Suffering For All Eternity For The Sins I Committed On Earth)?
Candid, insightful, and laugh-out-loud hilarious, the book leaves no cast stone unturned, with Zimmerman sharing stories about finding common ground with his Bible-thumping pastor father, that time he got dumped on an airplane, and the unforgettable saga of “the twink on the fire escape,” which must be read to be believed.
Ahead of Is It Hot In Here?‘s April 18 release, we invited Zimmerman to our “hot seat” as the latest guest in the rapid-fire Q&A series, Dishin’ It. In our free-wheeling conversation, the author touches on exorcising his demons through the written word, the surprises of crowd work, and why he has a hard time dating comedy fans.
Is there a piece of media—whether a movie, TV series, book, album, games, etc…—that you consider a big part of your own coming-out journey, or that has played an important part in exploring your own queerness? Why does it stand out to you?
I feel like so much of the early media I was consuming were straight white male comedians. When people asked me for my influences, it’s: Jay Leno, Conan O’Brien, Patton Oswalt, Jim Gaffigan—like, kind of people that are some version of my dad?
I was so sheltered from any sort of what we called secular media, in a religious upbringing, that I’m trying to think of what was like a watershed moment for me. I definitely rejected a lot. I even remember, when a friend invited me—before I was out—to watch the first episode of Drag Race, I was like “No thank you!”
Oh, but I do remember the Pink Power Ranger playing some sort of role for me—whether I resonated with her in some sort of way, or maybe it was an early crush.
In your new book, Is It Hot In Here?, you share a lot of stories from your life, about growing up with Christian conservative parents, about finding yourself. Of course I wouldn’t want you to give too much away, but was there a certain story that felt the most cathartic to write? Which was the most difficult?
I think definitely the most difficult one was “Testimony,” which is about my relationship with my father, getting told I was going to hell from a pastor-dad, slowly coming to terms with not believing that’s the case, and then figuring out what our relationship is.
The first draft of that was like 50 pages—I wrote it in a friend’s apartment when I was house-sitting and it just poured out of me. My editor worked with me and now it’s down to like eight pages. She’s like, “I don’t know if we need to be in the therapists office with you?” So it’s polished now and it takes the reader on a journey.
But that felt like it was like getting my demons on the page in a really powerful way, and condensing it in a way that’s now no longer inside of me.
There’s also a piece later in the essay where, later in the book, I have a fictional encounter with Satan. And when I did the audiobook a few weeks ago, I just really got into it. Embodying Satan… it was so much fun to torture myself, to put this fictional version of Zach through hell. It was kind of evil and twisted! So those stick out to me as the most richly emotional to work on.
You’ve gotten a lot of attention for videos of your crowd work at stand-up shows, and it’s pretty amazing the things people will say and do in this situations. Do you have a specific memory of a time you were especially surprised by a crowd interaction?
There’s two big ones that come to mind—one is not online and one is.
The time an audience member came out to her friend is definitely top of mind. So, that woman came to one of my shows in Seattle, but I didn’t recognize her and she’s like, “I’m from your most viral crowd-work clip!” I definitely recognized her voice though. And we got drinks after and caught up, so that was ultimately positive.
But to give you another example, there was this woman who came to another show in Seattle and heckled the whole time, like in a weird and sort of supportive way. But then after the show, she’ stole my chocolates—chocolates a friend’s mom brought me for me from a very fancy shop in town. They were sitting on a table, and this woman I guess was so drunk because she saw the food, opened them, and ate two.
I’ve been thinking about her ever since—the type of person she is. For great crowd work, the people that stick with me are just these fully formed characters; even when the spotlight shines on them, they’re not scared or shy. And what you are in the moment when the spotlight gets shone on you, that reveals your core truths! That’s half tongue-in-cheek, but I do think people are very honest when they’re put on the spot like that.
@zzdoublezz sometimes you come out to your friend at the comedy show #standup #comedy #gay ♬ original sound – Zach Zimmerman
As your fans and followers might know, you’ve got some magic tricks up your sleeves, and have even incorporated it into your comedy over the years—have you ever used magic on a date? Or to help you get some?
Oh yeah. I can make a salt shaker disappear, and it just requires a cloth napkin. So, if you’re at a dinner table with me and I’ve had enough to drink and there’s a cloth napkin and a salt shaker, I’m gonna make it disappear. And I’m gonna blow your mind.
But magic, more often than not, has cock-blocked me. In Italy it once caused me to sleep on the street. I was in Rome by myself on a “finding myself” Euro trip, and I was lonely. I went to a gay bar and got drunk and started talking to strangers and I had a deck of cards. So I put my bag down, I pulled out the deck of cards and started doing tricks for the cute guys—here was a little group around me. I was the belle of the ball for a short moment, and I was doing a cheesy magic trick for these Italians. The trick ends, people started scattering, I turned and my bag was gone, which had my passport, the keys to the AirBnB, my journal, the book that I was reading. And all the hotels were booked, apparently, so then I just slept outside my AirBnB until someone came to let me in.
But it was all due to magic. So be careful: The dark arts give and the dark arts take away!
What’s something ridiculous you believed to be true when you were a kid? (i.e. the classic example: Santa Claus) How did you react when you found out the truth?
In second grade, I learned that a fellow classmate had kissed a girl. And I made him promise to me that he would never kiss another girl again until his wedding day. Now I give away kisses like they’re going out of style, but as a child, I believed that your first kiss with anyone should be on your wedding day. Imagine! Imagine dating, or proposing, or spending thousands of dollars to get married, and only then you find out they’re bad at kissing or have halitosis or whatever.
That’s just an insane belief to me. Oh, and the idea that there is a hell and I was going there!
What’s the hardest part about dating as a comedian? If you go on a first date, would you prefer they didn’t know about what you do?
I would prefer if a person I’m on a date with has never seen me do comedy, has no interest in comedy, has never been to a comedy club, has no interest in being part of material in anyone’s comedy set ever.
The cheesiest thing is someone will be like, “Oh, if we go out, are you going to put me in a joke?” And I’m like, “Are you going to do something interesting enough to warrant being in a joke?” Or, other times, people will just see you as a comedian, and not as a person first. When you’re looking for a partner, or someone romantic in a semi long-term capacity—or even for the night—you want someone who sees you as a person, and not just a chuckle-f*cker, to use a term I learned too late.
But on the other side of things, I’m never hotter than when I’m on stage: Under the lights, I’m far away, everyone’s looking at me, I’m at my funniest, I’m in the moment. That’s a great moment to see me, sure, but it’s also not who I am. People think dating a comedian means they’re going to be laughing for the rest of their lives? No, you’re going to be consoling an insecure, lonely sociopath who goes to work at 9pm.
So I’m open about it if someone asks what I do for a living. But it definitely sparks different responses from people, and you can usually—from that response—know whether it’s going to go anywhere.
Who is a queer or trans artist/performer/creator that you think is doing really cool work right now? Why are they someone we should all be paying attention to?
Robby Hoffman is very, very funny and tickles me. And Natalie Rotter-Laitman as well, who is based in New York. They’ve made me laugh a lot. They’re both stand-ups. And very talented, and just so in-the-moment and natural on stage.
I’m trying to think if there’s anyone else in music or media or TV that’s really blown me away recently. Oh, there’s this little-known avant-garde actor named, I believe, Pedro Pascal? I think he really needs the Zach Zimmerman boost!
@zzdoublezz i found the one #standup #comedy #comedian #crowdwork #loveofmysadlittlelife ♬ original sound – Zach Zimmerman
Zach Zimmerman’s Is It Hot In Here (Or Am I Suffering For All Eternity For The Sins I Committed On Earth)? is available April 18 via Chronicle Books and can be preordered here.
