I can tell you that I haven’t been this scared in a while.
I stand facing a personal doorway that I’ve never opened in comedy performance. I don’t know what will happen when I turn the doorknob. I don’t know what lies on the other side.
Tonight… I find out.
There’s an event I’m performing at and, for the first time in my life, I’m going into some really personal thoughts and insecurities as the basis of my material.
My heart pounds as I write this. I’m in a bit of a cold sweat as my fingers dance across the keyboard. Two hours till showtime and I have that sick feeling in my stomach.
It’s scary because it’s new territory. It kinda feels like the first time I asked a girl out.
But that’s a story for another day.
Up until now, personal viewpoints in my comedy have been very much “surface” kinds of things. Quirky observations or reflections of experiences. I have leaned quite heavily on physical characterization and mimicry as my comic vehicle.
Tonight, it’s really about things I’ve been insecure about. And it freaks the heck out of me that it might not land. Tonight, I stare death in the face once more. [See this link for a short explanation of a comic’s death]
I have some measure of trust in the material, but that doesn’t eliminate the What-if-it’s-not-funny-to-THEM sentiment.
Here’s to hoping it goes well.