Back to reality

I had a couple of weeks off from gigging after Edinburgh in an attempt to recover, although I still don’t feel I fully have.

After performing to packed rooms for three weeks in August, I’ve had a lot of trouble adjusting back to the opposite of this on the London open mic circuit. I’ve done about ten gigs so far and audience numbers have mainly been scarce. On the rare occasion that they have been larger, I’ve not done very well. Perhaps I really was in a parallel universe for a month.

It has been mainly the lows of previous Fringes that have given me motivation to improve when returning to the normal circuit afterwards. But having a good Edinburgh has perhaps increased my expectations unrealistically.

This week, I died on my arse doing five minutes in front of about 15 comedians and one civilian called James. I was trying out some new material that I’d half-written before Edinburgh and had already lost faith in, but I felt the need to try something new out anyway. It was a friendly room, but my half-baked ramblings received indifference.

I needed this. I think it was my subconscious trying to slap me very hard in the face to snap me out of whatever this coma of complacency is that I’m in danger of falling into. I need to get back into the habit of writing regularly again, which I’ve not done for some months. And in a warped kind of way, a bad gig such as this is exactly what I needed.

Failure is healthy in comedy and makes you think harder about improving. Success is not without its downsides, or so I’m told.

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