I am a few days out from my solo debut hour, Fantastic Maximum Big Boy #1, launching at Sydney Comedy Festival.
It’s finished. I’m pretty sure it’s decent. I could probably rehearse it a few more times. And yet, here I am, about to send one more “Hi friend, hope you’re well?” text asking someone (again) to come see it.
I thought the hardest part was learning stand-up — what a silly goose. I’ve since learnt that stand-up is only half the job; the other half is basically bugging everyone I’ve ever met to come watch me do it.
I’ve filmed Reels, made memes, emailed reviewers, and turned into a part-time telemarketer — all in the name of shifting tickets.
And it’s working – people are buying them! Which is a relief. Thank you to everyone who has.
But I’m embarrassed to look back at the trail of DMs and half-naked thirst traps I’ve posted to promote this show. Because it honestly makes me cringe.
In corners of the internet, this humiliating hustle is called “Climbing Cringe Mountain,” — the steep peak you have to climb to ever get really good at something.
At the start, I assumed stand-up was my only mountain to climb. I’d do my sets, shape my jokes, and dust myself off after bombing on stage. And I’ve gotten pretty good at it.
Except, turns out there’s a second, steeper mountain to make it as a comedian: the unrelenting need to promote, persuade, and prod people to purchase, to the point of being obnoxious.
And after that’s done, there is probably going to be another mountain, one currently shrouded in fog, that I won’t see through until I’m already on my way.
But I soldier on (or often stumble forward). One foot in front of the other, because the alternative is to quietly sit back and pretend I don’t desperately want to share my jokes — and that’s not an option when you’re actually proud of what you’ve created — which I am.
You might relate if you’ve ever launched a small business or posted about your art for the thousandth time, feeling certain your self-respect jumped ship about 50 posts back. We can bond over the soul crushing “(Read 2:14 PM)” messages and ways to ignore that voice in our heads that says, “Everyone thinks you’re thirsty for attention.” Because yeah, maybe they do and sometimes we have to stew in that fact.
I’m not here to feed you some, “Don’t worry, it gets better” line. Climbing Cringe Mountain sucks, but at least it sucks for all of us who dare to make something and share it with the world. This is the price of wanting more than the safety of “Well, at least I never made a fool of myself.”
You might find a ledge now and then, take a breather, and marvel at the fact that you haven’t fallen off. But eventually, you push on, because that’s who you are.
You are someone who refuses to let your best ideas die quietly at the back of your head, someone who backs themselves enough to have a crack, and I am someone who would like to remind everyone that tickets for Fantastic Maximum Big Boy #1 this Thursday, Friday and Sunday at Enmore Laneway are still available.
All of us creatives can relate to your experience Andy. You have the discipline and self-belief to continue. Most of us don't. 'Climbing Cringe Mountain' - perfect description. Nicely written with its blending of laughs and 'tears'.
Very apt and relatable