Edinburgh Fringe Days 25-26: And I Know Things Now

Hello. After my last blog post, I thought I would end my Edinburgh experience on a happier note. It's not all been doom and gloom, far from it, despite what the undercurrent of negativity may suggest. I've had, all in all, a great month. I've learnt a lot and honed my skills beyond what I expected. I've compiled a list of things I've learnt, producing and performing my own show from scratch. You might find this helpful, but really it's just a reminder for myself if I do another show in the future.

  • PUT THE TIME OF YOUR SHOW ON YOUR FLYER. You bloody idiot. This means that you don't have to spend the first few days writing '9:15pm' in biro on thousands of pieces of paper, while you wait for the second round of flyers you forked out for to arrive. There is a silver lining to this, however: the award for Best Comedy Event at the Buxton Fringe (hair flip) and the review that said you were the most joyous and genuinely funny show of the year (hair flip) that you received after printing the first round can now be added to the flyers, and you can look slightly more impressive.
  • Reviewers don't seem to care that you won Best Comedy Event at the Buxton Fringe (hair flip). Reviewers don't seem to care in general, in my experience. I'm currently waiting on a review from someone who came nine days ago, and from someone who came six days ago. I am sitting in a cafe waiting for my train back from this year's Fringe, on the last official day, so obviously those reviews aren't going to help me this time around. However, if you're reading this and you saw my show and haven't published a review, please do, because there might be some quotations that could help next year. Unless you hated the show. In which case, keep quiet.
  • There are people who want to help you; you just have to find them. A lot of the time this year I felt a bit fucked over by people who I thought could help me, such as the badge company who put the wrong name on the delivery, meaning that the friend I had sent them to at Pleasance Courtyard (she works there) couldn't pick them up as they were addressed to me (I do not work there), until the mystery of the missing badges was solved on Saturday, the penultimate day of my run, and I was able to give out the merchandise I had ordered in July. And one fifth of them didn't have pins on the back. And they also sent me a random school in Taunton's badges. I'm keeping them. I also felt fucked over by the reviewers who didn't come, or publish their reviews, or the friends who were up in Edinburgh and didn't see me, or the audiences who loved the show but didn't spread the word, but looking back on it now, that doesn't matter. There were people who helped me: someone came to my show and gave me a spot on Mervyn Stutter's Pick of the Fringe, giving 259 people a taste of me; the people who put me on their compilation shows, often multiple times, like at Pollyanna and Club Sol Party; the people who told/will tell their friends, who programme stuff at big places (if you're reading this and know who you are, please remember to do this oh god please), and the people who supported me every day, from helping me into and out of my shoes, protecting me from evil children, and just having a laugh/wine with me. Thank you.
  • Good god don't do everything by yourself again. I find it a bit tasteless to talk about money, but I will say I managed to make a profit doing the fringe next year, after paying for accommodation, Fringe registration, a lot of cassette tapes and 21 punnet of grapes. If I do something this year, I want to use that money/the connections I've made to get someone to do PR or producing or anything to help me out. I've tired myself out emailing people, getting bookings, chasing up reviews, flyering AND performing every day - it's a good tired, but not one I fancy reliving again. Also I want some of those big boards. Mainly because I'm a narcissist. It can be done, doing it by yourself, which I'm hopefully proof of. I just might try something else next time.
  • SEE MORE SHOWS. Seriously. Nobody except you cares that you're in drag from 3pm-midnight every day. It's the Fringe, you're allowed to look a bit weird in front of other performers, so don't restrict yourself to morning shows or save everything for your days off. Performers won't be distracted, so stop feeling guilty about disrupting their shows with the overpriced grease you have smeared all over your face. Go and see shows. Although, since you ask, some of my highlights from this year include: Diane Chorley, Harriet Braine (but you knew that, obviously), and my York pals at Any Suggestions, Doctor? and Present and Correct, which actually blew me away this year. Keep an eye out for all of these people because they are great.
  • WE INTERRUPT THIS LIST TO BRING YOU AN UPDATE: I have left the cafe and am now on the train. Ooh, up to the minute commentary. I'm in first class and there's a teeny tiny Jack Russell here, sitting on a lady lap. His name is Sandy (I think) and is very sedate, maybe because he is a rescue dog. He is beautiful and very inquisitive about what's going on. Bless him. Sandy (I think) is an anathema to the woman sitting opposite me. We were all offered a frankly massive Scotch Egg; I said no because my body isn't a graveyard (i.e. I am a vegetarian). She took one, over which I didn't pass judgement. Now, the lovely first class train man Euan came round with a few boxes of vegetarian snacks - crisps, pretzels, cheese etc., and when I was offered the last one, this bitch, THIS BITCH WHO KNEW I WAS A VEGETARIAN AND ERGO COULD NOT HAVE A SCOTCH EGG, WAVED HER LITTLE HAND - WHICH ALREADY HELD A FUCKING FRANKLY MASSIVE SCOTCH EGG - AND TOLD EUAN THAT SHE'D HAVE IT. Me and Sandy's mum made eye contact, as if to say 'this bitch', as I took the consolation prize of a frankly tiny mini cheddar and mango chutney combo, one of which THIS WOMAN ALSO TOOK. SHE FUCKING LOVES FREE SHIT DOESN'T SHE. So I am here with my crackers n chutney while this woman is devouring her own portion (and she's one of those dickheads who scoops, not dips), a whole vegetarian snack box, and the aforementioned FRANKLY MASSIVE SCOTCH EGG. I had a small lunch in preparation for this free shit, madam. As revenge I'm typing this very loudly, and am considering stealing her milk in front of her. Because I am petty, but also I am not a prick and don't like too much of a milky tea. Maybe I'll do it. Live a little. Update: she's used her milk and has asked to use mine. Literally I'm about to kick off. Also apologies for these updates. It's like twitter but I have no internet and you'll see it a few hours later. I've had to put sugar in my tea because I need the extra nutrition thanks to Snack Bitch. If you need this item to be some genuine advice, it is this: DEATH TO SNACK BITCH. She's getting off at Preston so me and Mrs Sandy will bitch about her then.
  • Be nice to your fellow performers. 
  • Wait no back to Snack Bitch. This woman had the audacity, THE NERVE, to look at me with disgust after my vengeful loud sipping of tea. Admittedly, in any other situation I would drink my tea quietly and subtly, but SB has left me high and dry with two sachets of Tate and Lyle, so no amount of filthy looks will change my tactics, especially when the mouth below the shady eyes is currently inhaling nine pretzels simultaneously. Fuck you SB I can't wait until Preston.
  • Be nice to your fellow performers. Whilst I've had to witness the worse elements of human nature, I've also got to see some of the best, mostly from Fringe performers. We all get it - we're tired, we haven't seen a vitamin in weeks, and we miss our loved ones, dogs, and beds. Despite the difference in shows, good to bad, theatre to music to cabaret, we are united in our exhaustion and masochistic return every year. So we look out for each other. As mentioned before, some performers helped out when some children tried to kill me, but even on a minor level, it was nice to talk to people while flyering - people who know the bitter pain of being rejected about ten minutes before your show's due to start, even though you have similar start times and are essentially in competition with each other. That doesn't matter, because we're all friends and we're all in the same boat. There are people who do take themselves too seriously (usually found pretending to be dead on the Royal Mile), and they can be dicks and think that their show is the best and will push past/in front of you to flyer someone, but usually these people's shows are shit and nobody goes anyway. Otherwise be nice to each other.
  • SB has pulled out a Kindle. I might have fucking known.

So that's me. There's probably more I'm missing out on, but I'm too enraged/literally starving to remember them. Maybe I'll do a follow up. For the most part, I had a great Edinburgh Fringe, and have big plans for the next one. I'm hoping to keep this blog updated with what's going on in my life, although if this month's schedule is anything to go off, you'll probably hear from me about once a year. I'll try. Now, as I sign off from my Edinburgh blog, I need you to remember one thing:

DEATH TO SNACK BITCH