We’re moving offices this weekend. I went to the new place a couple of days ago and, to be frank, the layout is immense. We have a pool table, bar and roof terrace… all of which I can’t see myself ever using given the fact I don’t have much spare time during the day and I don’t hang about after hours, but it’s a nice perk.

I can’t work out if I have Stockholm Syndrome or I am just impatient about developing as a performer.

People on the open mic circuit tend to fall into a few broad categories when it comes to daytime activities –

I hate my job and want out.

This is either someone who quit a better job to focus more on stand up or someone who has always had a dead end position and doesn’t want to do it forever. These people I tend to get along with given the fact they’re working hard to afford to gig and have interesting stories to tell from the stuff they’ve been doing during the day.

I love my job, but would prefer to be a comedian

These people can be annoying, but are almost always happy. They have taken a weirder path into stand up (given they like what they do, it would seem odd to try and get on another career path that doesn’t pay very well and takes years to get average).

Actors

People who love to perform but there’s not enough work in that industry so they decide to “give comedy a go”, get hooked and (often but not always) see it as a great way to getting more acting work. The only people I don’t like in this group are the ones who are only doing stand up to become actors. For me, stand up is a hard profession and I wouldn’t muscle in on acting jobs to get seen by comedy bookers etc. But a large number aren’t like this, thankfully, and want to become comedians.

Unemployed

People without jobs are fine by me. When I was freelancing I was between contracts for up to a month and so technically unemployed. I was always looking for a way to earn money. The only people in this group that annoy me are people who sign on for years on end hoping to make it as a stand up and haven’t made much of an effort to find employment.

Students

God I wish I had the balls to do this when I was at uni. I could be slightly better than I am now, but still without saying anything of value. I could be better on stage and a number of other skills that I am now having to work on. I envy the students. Having said that, I hate it when I meet a student who is “struggling to do their degree due to gigging”. You can take a break and miss out on nothing. Finish the degree; it’s going to leave you in debt for years. Additionally, the people who aren’t even interested in their degree and are ignoring it to perform annoy me. You’ve been given an opportunity to fall back on. Don’t mess it up, you’re probably not going to make it.

I fall into 2 categories. I love / hate my job and want to be a stand up.

In the past month I have got very ill due to gigging 3-5 times a week along with my job (and bad health choices in my diet due to the minimal time I had to prepare anything). I’ve had to cancel 3 gigs because I was so tired or had to work. And I’ve found writing / rehearsing more of a chore than fun because I am so tired.

This isn’t a moan blog, like I said, I love my job, right?

A job is something you do for money that you wouldn’t do for free. I have found myself 3 times in the past 2 weeks checking how many days it is until “pay day” so I can try to get the metaphorical monkey off my back that is the Edinburgh Festival (don’t want to alarm anyone but there’s only 53 working days until it begins).

I keep questioning when is “the time” you know to cut back your “day job” and work harder at this. It’s definitely before you have a family, serious relationship or large financial commitments like a house. So I guess I have another 10 years to decide, which works out well because almost no one is good for the first decade.

In 61 working days I’ll be in Edinburgh (not that I am counting).

I’ll be doing 23 consecutive days at the 3 Sisters, splitting an hour with Elena Kombou with a show that unintentionally shares its name with a much bigger celebrity’s tour.

Last night was the first of several previews for this show.

We had about 7-8 audience members (one of which left half way through the show when I was on as I asked her to stop interrupting the acts, she then proceeded to wait for me downstairs and continue the argument after the show was over).

I was going to go into detail of the show itself but I feel what I’ve learned in the past month really hit home when I was on stage and that would make the more interesting blog.

The difference between a “name” and an amateur isn’t always talent.

I firmly believe people invest heavily in comedians and if they’re a “fan” they will stick with you like no other brand of artist.

Comedians distract us in ways other forms of art cannot. We’re so easily bored these days that we need comedy to take our minds away from our day-to-day lives.

I’ve seen average comedians get paid spots at pro nights because they’re likeable and have a bit of a knack for telling a joke. Why? Well it all comes down to business.

Bums on seats are what promoters and clubs are interested in, so if your name brings in X number of people of course they’re going to book you.

Most of the time talent shines through, but that takes years, which is why a lot of the younger comedians are boring but affable.

I did a joke last night and one of the performers said “it’s funny, but only because I know you”. It’s a tricky line to bring an audience into your world from nothing. If you’re a “name” or someone they’ve followed for years it’s easier, but still not easy.

The big question is: how do you get people to invest in you?

There’s no right answer for this. Social media has made it easier to gain an audience but does it translate? I know performers who have 10,000+ followers on Twitter but can’t get 60 people down to a free preview.

When you break it down this makes sense. Of those 10,000 how many are –

-Free that evening?

-In the mood for stand up

-In the right area for the gig.

-Have the spare cash to come down (if it costs)

-Can find a friend or two to join them.

The list goes on which narrows down your potential audience for a gig.

For the foreseeable future my name isn’t going to be bigger than any club I play (even Comedy Bin). As a result I have to continue to work at my performance and try to get good.

I’d rather be the guy who took a solid decade to break through and was respected for being good at this than a 20-year-old straight out of uni who has a friendly face, but needs someone to write for them.

Basically what I am saying is after talent a lot of this comes down to marketing, branding, networking and admin… all skills that I am not good at. So I need to rethink how I move forward in the next year .

Two nights ago I was asked by Ben Morgan “you gig almost every night… what do you get out of it?”

As we were at a comedy night I couldn’t fully answer this for him, so here goes…

A bit of background…

I have been gigging for just over two years and performed nearly 250 times. I currently do between 3 and 5 gigs a week. Mainly 10s and 15s with the odd 5 thrown in to try new stuff.

Lets start with the negatives –

1)   I barely see my friends

With an aggressive gigging schedule, a full time job, a few freelance writing bits on the side and sleep I don’t see my non-comedy friends very often, this is true. Having said that, if the needed me I’d drop a gig in a minute. It’s a double edge sword. All my non-comedy friends have girlfriends (which take up time) and hobbies. So they’re often just as busy as me – I just booked The Book Of Mormon with my best friend for Sept as we couldn’t do Aug (I am in Edinburgh) and he’s on holiday for 2 weeks in July.

2)   I barely sleep in the week.

Recently I was told by a medical professional to take a bunch of pills and drink a mixture of things to give myself an immune system. Eating badly, barely sleeping and working as hard as I do had caught up with me. Had I been doing less my body might have been able to deal with the infections better, but I had basically no immense system when they hit. This is an obvious negative side effect, but one I have to put up with until I can leave my job or cut it back at least.

I put up with it as I feel I am improving. This can become an addictive feeling. I also question what else I would do in an evening? Go home and watch dire sitcoms and binge eat? Not worth it…

3)   General resentment of others on the circuit.

A nature thing in a competitive industry is to compare yourself and get bitter. Bitter someone who started before you is getting better gigs or paid work. This is honestly not something I get. I question if people should be chasing paid stuff (and often if some people should be off the 5 spot circuit) but talent always shine through, so I just intend to improve. What I do get out of it is a fun amount of gossip.

I dislike gossip in general, but in comedy its for people I generally care so little about I can drop and pick it up as and when I feel like it. That’s priceless as it takes my mind off work and helps fuel my emotions (however temporarily) which allows me to get fired up… which helps when writing comedy.

Now the positives…

1)   I feel like I am working towards something

I recently joined a language-learning site. I haven’t used it yet, but the site is based around bite-sized chunks of “quizzes” that help you learn different phrases. This is only helpful up to a point as you need to try them in a conversation with someone who speaks the language fluently to see if it’s working…

You need the practice of writing as well as performing. My weekends are for writing. I (sometimes) run writing sessions to help with that. But something that works written down doesn’t always work out loud (and vice versa). By gigging all the time I am numb to dying and (although I don’t want it to happen) I actually enjoy it (and try to make it happen sometimes). This is invaluable as dying isn’t bad, it’s how you handle it (both during it happening and off stage after) is a much better sign of a good performer… the show must go on.

2)   I get fewer nerves.

This is linked to the bit above. Most of what I feel is adrenaline (the two feel almost identical). I get a tiny buzz of fear as I start to say a new joke, but that’s a good thing, it shows I care about it.

3)   I feel more professional.

If I were to quit my job tomorrow and start doing this full time, I would be doing 5-7 nights a week. I would need to be disciplined and great at admin / networking (something I am constantly trying to improve on). By treating it like a 2^nd job, I can safely say I want it as my main way of making money  - I often meet people who say they’d like if for a job… but I’d like to see them after 6 consecutive nights of 15 spots, 5 of which went badly.

4)   My own writing targets.

I want to do a 40-minute set in Edinburgh next year. I’ll have an opening 10-12 each night and then afterwards I’ll throw out all that material.

When learning to play an instrument you start with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and build up to Stairway To Heaven. If you only play the children’s nursery track for 2 years how can you possibly improve? You learn and bank the song, then move on.

In Edinburgh 2012 I met several professional acts who have been going for years and all of them said to keep writing new stuff… people will come to see you once, but never again unless you have something new to say.

I have sets and jokes banked in case I get a paid thing, but I have (for all intents and purposes) stopped performing them. Now… if I have 20 gigs in the next 40 days and I’ve said from today I can’t do my joke about my dating life… what do I have to say? I have to write to a deadline. This links to the “feeling more professional” point and also helps me improve.

That’s why I do it, Ben.

Other people do it for a social life / to get out the house / make friends / meet a sex opponent / a hobby.

Hope that helps.

Bit of background information: I am ill. I have been for about 2/3 weeks. It has got worse in the past 48 hours. Future Simon, if you’ve forgotten how ill, you nearly threw up on a woman on the Northern Line because it was so cramped.

My mum got home about 2 hours ago. I didn’t get an overly sympathetic greeting “oh, I thought you were staying at work” were her exact words. I explained I had been sent home and was finishing off bits of work as some people were off, we have a big launch this weekend, and I would feel dire about leaving the workmate on his own.

She asked if I was going in tomorrow. I said unlikely if I feel like this. Quick as a flash she said “you won’t get sick pay… you’ve not been there long enough”.

Not “oh, you feel to ill to go into work” or “can I get you some grapes?” She just worried about me losing a days pay. Granted, I have big bills coming up (namely Edinburgh) but I have money coming in…

I’ve been thinking more and more about what I do. I enjoy social and can’t see myself doing anything else (for a day job). But I feel I need to reconsider how much of it I do.

I am a community manager at a senior level. Which is great, on paper. I spend most of my day in an office sat with great people doing the work to the best of my abilities… but it’s not where I want to be long term.

My dad (and mum) are money-centric people. They’ve always had to earn enough to pay for things like weddings, their first house and me. All of which they did younger than I am now.

My granddad has a much more relaxed view. One I am glad to share. We spoke a few days ago and he said I shouldn’t kill myself over a job… plenty more about. He’s not wrong.

It would be different if I was graduate with no skills beyond learning enough to pass an exam. I have 4 years experience, a book on the subject of my job coming out and a wealth of knowledge that puts me in an arguably good position.

I am ranting now. Basically, I feel the need to re-evaluate how I earn money. Stand up isn’t going to pay me enough for a few more years, but I can’t do two jobs.

I can’t remember who said it (but that doesn’t matter as I am probably going to misquote it to the point the original person wouldn’t be able to recognise it) –

“You can always use more money, but, when you forget about that and just buy what you need, you always seem to have enough to do what you to do” – someone much more intelligent than me.

I cancelled a gig tonight.

I hate cancelling gigs.

This is the first gig I’ve had to cancel due to my day job for a while but I suppose in many ways it was bigger than that.

I’ve been ill for 2 weeks now (going on 3). I’ve carried on working and gigging with a cough, running nose and constant headaches mainly because I want to get better, which is ironic.

I feel myself progressing and I get a little addicted to the feeling of improvement. It’s an odd sensation and it’s not one that is easily quantified.

I’ve been thinking about my day job a lot lately (that happens when you do it every day and don’t have an “end date” as with freelancing). I love what I do, but it is taking a lot out of me. It’s paying me well and I am saving money but I half want to take a step back from it and focus on stand up.

I won’t be unemployed.

I hate it when I meet a comedian who is signing on and not looking for work while doing this. It’s just as bad when I meet a student who isn’t going to lectures but is living off their loan to do this… at least do the degree you went for. But that’s off topic, and not for me to judge.

I feel I need to have a job with less stress, less commitments and more flexibility. But I need to feel more like I am ready to gig 5-7 nights a week and write more than I do everyday.

In addition to this I do need to convince my parents (who I am living with) that this is a good idea.

With only 70 working days until the Fringe it makes sense for me to stick it out. Save some money. Pay off Edinburgh and take some time to think while I am 400 miles away from my desk.

One of my biggest problems at the moment is my “jokes” don’t work written down. This isn’t a massive issue, but it is a “thing” I am having to adjust to.

Previously I would work the gag into 140 characters, Tweet it, and judge the response on how many people told me it was good / bad. Alternatively I would post it on Facebook if I couldn’t fit it on Twitter or (at last call) I would send it to a friend to read.

This level of insecurity is something a lot of new acts have.

“Is this funny?” is a question we constantly ask ourselves.

About 4 months ago I became more interested in why something is funny after I’d tested it in front of X number of audiences.

Since moving to longer jokes, they don’t “work” written down. This isn’t a bad thing. It means my live performances are improving and it does mean I have almost zero fear of failing now.

That isn’t to say what I do nails and never fails (far from it). But I don’t care about that until I am off stage. It’s a skill I need.

If it dies on stage, the audience knows. How you handle it determines if you’re a good comedian or not. By acknowledging the elephant in the room then moving on I feel I handle it “ok” most of the time.

The time I struggle to see IF it’s funny is at the writing stage. What’s funny to me, in my head isn’t always amusing on stage.

You see it 100 times a week on circuit when a comedian does a gag and you can see why it would be amusing but… just not on stage. This is something I am yet to “master” and I don’t think you ever do. If you think something is funny, you try it. Then you know if it’s funny.

I saw a great interview with Milton Jones about how he gets a “feeling” about a joke and if it will work, but it’s not fully proof.

It felt nice to know someone at his level has the same issues as someone at mine.

Recently I did a gig with a “TV name” headlining. I’d briefly seen a clip of them online and thought it was ok, nothing ground breaking. At the gig the audience heckled them and they walked off – clearly unprofessional and a silly thing to do. I’ve since watched a full video of their stand up and was half glad they left early.

I read a book about marketing that encouraged people to not be the best, but just aim to be just above the rest. The market for the “best” (the book claims) is small. You price yourself out of the market and subsequently reduce your chances of success by being “too good”.

It’s an interesting idea. A friend of mine did a very intelligent tweet a few weeks ago and blogged about how it lost them followers and gained a number of “I don’t get it” style responses. I’ve done a set on why jokes don’t work and the “collective pool of knowledge” problem a number of comedians come up against.

I feel I’ve started to develop a sense of arbitrary jadedness that goes far beyond the amount of time I’ve been performing. There’s several acts that when I see them perform my inner monologue goes “aw, you are trying” in the most patronising tone. These people usually will post something about a big gig or paid work a day or so later and I think I should really write some more cock jokes.

I am a firm believer in “scratching your own itch”. I think that’s why stand up appeals. I can present an idea or joke in the style I would want to see it. It’s finding a large enough group of (paying) people to make that a career that’s the tricky part.

Having said that, I am not doing badly. I do get the odd paid bit of work and my travel expenses are covered for most out of town gigs.

The thing that means the most to me is that I can feel myself developing something. I have no idea what it is, but it’s frustrating. I’ve considered taking a break from it, but nothing else matters to me on the same level.

It’s 9.14pm on a Thursday night. This is the earliest I’ve been home in a few weeks. This hasn’t just for “stand up” reasons, I’ve been booking in to see people / shows every night after work, so I have a reason to finish on time.

I am really happy right now. I have a spring in my step. My job is perfect for me. And I feel like the company gets me, and has a shared vision for the communities I am dealing with. It’s not easy to try and move client visions for their online properties but the fact they’re behind me (which doesn’t happen in every agency) helps motivate me to get up in the morning. This would explain why I’ve gone full time with them.

This is the first time I’ve had a full time job in over 18 months. It doesn’t feel any different except I normally mark my calendar for when I will finish… in my current calendar I just have “Leave for Edinburgh” marked on the 31^st July.

Edinburgh is shaping up to be good. The promotional materials have been approved and will arrive soon. The show itself is paid, the accommodation is booked (but not fully paid off) and the jokes are coming along nicely.

The previews are in progress. But I’ll get to that in a future blog. For now I’ll just say my target is to have my 300^th gig the opening night of the festival. Which is pushing me to book and bed down my “show” material. Hence why I am not having many early evenings.

In unrelated news, I got an email from my potential publisher about 2 days ago asking for my postal address to send a contract to me. I have no idea what else to say on this subject until it arrives, but needless to say I hope to get that project out the door soon.

I am using a few media links to contact Secret Cinema in an attempt to do another Shaun of the Dead screening for charity this year with the Zombie Day people. I had fun last year, but I want to do it on a much bigger scale.

I love this feeling of productivity. But it is coming at a price.

I am being slow to reply to people and pretty forgetful of things that don’t fit into the main 3 things I am doing. My health is also dire. I am still slim(ish) but it’s little things that make me aware that the same crap ready meals every night before bed aren’t the best thing in the world. I still run 3 times a week, but that’s no where near enough.

It would be nice to focus everything on the comedy, but truth be told, you don’t write 12 hours a day if you’re unemployed. I write less than I do with a job between contracts. I just get to gig more and worry less about the alarm clock in the morning.

I couldn’t imagine doing comedy without a day job, or just without having a project to get up for in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a set list written on the back of my right hand and some notes from a meeting on the back of my left (this is the hand I hold the mic in).

I guess I feel everything is coming together, and I am really looking forward to adding a new project to my list of things I do as soon as at least one other one is out the door.

This is going to be a much more personal blog than usual… so if you’re uninterested in that, you might as well go back to browsing the rest of the internet.

My biggest fear is creating an emotional connection with another person.

About 2 years ago was the last time I had a proper emotional connection with a person I was dating. It didn’t end well and ever since I got over that I’ve worked very hard to ensure I don’t establish or feel too much for someone else until they feel it. This is a defence mechanism to ensure if they do end it (and usually it is them ending it) I am less hurt than I would be.

Tonight I visited my granddad. The one I blogged about a while ago. Quick update: his wife, my nan, is slowly deteriating due to dementia. She now lives in a home which he visits every day from the moment they open visiting hours, to the moment they have to ask him to leave.

His dedication to her both inspires me and worries me.

I am amazingly self-involved. My friends know this, some people who have spoken to me for a pro-longed period also know it. And if you didn’t, you do now.

You might be thinking “but Simon, how self-involved could you possible be?” Well, I am not proud of this, but I was seeing a girl that ended in October last year. And at the middle of December I wrote a text (sober) in a moment of madness (that I didn’t send) saying I was sorry for not contacting her for so long and if she was free in Jan we should hang out. I remembered she had abruptly stopped talking to me a month or so earlier so didn’t send it.

I was so self-involved I’d forgotten bits of my own life. And I was clearly so unattached to her I didn’t mind that she literally removed me from all social networks and didn’t give me a reason.

This is one example of many.

At the start of this year I made a real effort to change this. When I met up with someone, I really tried to not block myself from feeling things. I told people stuff I would ordinarily keep to myself. And I took them to places which mean something to me – for the 2 years previous I wouldn’t take a girl to anywhere I liked as I didn’t want a memory of them in a place if they broke up with me.

I went to my granddads house tonight after taking my mum out for mothers day. It was a bit odd being back in the house I spent so much time in when I was younger. I felt like a visitor, who was welcome. He was welcoming as ever.

The main thing I noticed was he had got out a lot of old photos of him and nan. He had sprinkled them around the house, presumably to remind himself of better times with her. I had a lump in my throat for a lot of the visit.

He has such a strong bond with her he can’t do anything but sit with her for 12 hours a day while she slowly dies. Then he goes home to what must a shrine to her memory and be reminded of better days, until the release of sleep takes him away for a few hours before it all begins again.

I can’t even imagine that level of pain.

The dichotomy of living in an emotional bubble of memories, wanting to move out (which he has expressed privately to me a couple of times) but not wanting to leave the house he shared the vast majority of his marriage in.

His attempts to make her better are futile at best, so now he must just dream of the time when she passes on. He’s actively told me he would want me to kill him if he got like that… he knows she has no quality of life.

I was on stage a few weeks ago, and did an off the cuff bit (that I am still working on) about how you should never dream. And if you do dream, make sure you include the fewest number of people possible in your dream. Because the more people, the higher the chances of failure are. It’s sad, but true, in my head.

I did two gigs last week, both of which I really enjoyed. I put this down to a change in direction in my material as well as how I am on stage. I feel more confident in my writing (when I get down to doing it) and can half see why something did / didn’t work on stage – a skill I hope gets better which stage time.

I’ve started a new job near Tottenham Court Road. It’s honestly awesome. It’s currently only a month contract, with the possibility of an extension. Given the cost of Edinburgh and other projects, I hope it gets extended. But I’ve got some stuff lined up just in case.

For me the problem is similar to most with a “proper” job: It’s hard to snap out of “day job mode” into “comedy mode”.

I know when I get to the gig I’ll be in that headspace and almost immediately ready to go on… but if I have nothing booked, I’ll more than likely lie to myself about dropping in on a gig until 5.55pm and then go home five minutes later.

It’s not a good pattern.

I spent yesterday sending messages to every good gig I could remember doing to try to get some stage time, along with a bit of research into nights I’ve yet to do.

The beautiful thing about stand up is you’re in control. In general I think the more people you involve in anything the more likely it is that the thing will fail – I am actually writing a thing about why you should never dream, and if you do dream, make sure it doesn’t involve other people because they’ll only leave you for a doctor named Steve etc. I have a general level of pessimism for people and I guess that’s why I enjoy knowing most of this is “on me”.

I want to do 80 gigs this year. That was the plan. But 80 good gigs. Better gigs than last year. So far, so good. I’ve done 27 performances, most of which in good rooms I did last year, or brand new locations.

Another issue that’s impacted on my year has been a number of good nights have closed. I was friendly with the promoters who gave me additional stage time, which was invaluable. Now I am having to do old material in front of new promoters to get them to trust me with more stage time. This clearly slows down the progression / editing process of new stuff which has led to a bottle necking of ideas that I can’t do in 5 spots. Not because they don’t fit, but because they need a little bit before, or for the audience to warm to me first.

It’s also highly frustrating having to do 5 spots. I remember in my first year pushing to get longer spots, and I see new acts doing the same thing. The truth is, you’re probably not ready for anything more than a 5 for the first 18 months. You might have the material, but it’s worth waiting, as you’re not going to be breaking new comedy horizons or anything.

I’ve also noticed you’re a product of the gigs you pick to do.

That sounds odd and obvious, but if you only book new material nights and workshop-styled gigs you tend to come out with a certain style of performance and writing.

If you put yourself through a lot of comedy competitions in a short space of time, you get what a lot of people refer to as a “competition five” which roughly translates that you do the same five minutes of jokes (successfully usually) in order to get noticed / to the next round of the competition. It might not be the five you’re most proud of but it’s the quickest sell for an audience.

This is always in the back of my mind when I pick places to try and get spots. I try to get a good mixture of places. But always be pushing upwards.