"Hear Ye, Hear Ye."
One thing I hate,
but seem to spend much of my life doing, is self-promoting.
Today’s a case in point. I’ve only been home from my holiday for a few hours, yet the time's been devoted to spreading the word about next week’s Leicester Square Theatre gig, both to agents and our Mostly Comedy mailing list. If you scan your eyes over the last sentence, you’ll see I never miss a trick, as I’ve included a booking link within it. If you hold the internet-enabled device you’re reading this blogpost on up to the light, you’ll see a sneaky watermark of my face mouthing the words ‘COME AND SEE ME NEXT TUESDAY’. Don’t ask me how I did it, as I haven’t thought the mechanics through.
Despite being a self-advertising monstrosity, I feel desperately uncomfortable with it. I hate the idea that people think I’m always doing it, or that I only get in contact when I want something. Facebook's a good example: I left the social media platform a couple of years ago because I didn’t like it, yet joined it again before my Edinburgh run in August, as it was hard to get an audience without it. It’s even become the go-to forum for a lot of promoters to book gigs; I had to keep jumping through hoops to to be considered when I wasn’t on it; one emcee would often reference it as he’d introduce my set. He was only joking, but the fact it even came up signposted it as a bugbear.
Now I’m back on Facebook, I keep it at arms length; I know browsing it too much makes me feel bad, so I only use it sporadically, yet inevitably, when I do use it, it will be to drum up an audience. I can almost feel people being irritated my posts, thinking I'm arrogant or conceited, or ignoring them because they’re not about my kids (which I don’t have, though I do own a cat).
I guess there’s no point in worrying too much. Hopefully, by even thinking about it, I’m keeping it in check. The last thing I want is to be seen as self-serving and smug, when in reality I overthink everything I do; come to my show next week to hear all about it.
Today’s a case in point. I’ve only been home from my holiday for a few hours, yet the time's been devoted to spreading the word about next week’s Leicester Square Theatre gig, both to agents and our Mostly Comedy mailing list. If you scan your eyes over the last sentence, you’ll see I never miss a trick, as I’ve included a booking link within it. If you hold the internet-enabled device you’re reading this blogpost on up to the light, you’ll see a sneaky watermark of my face mouthing the words ‘COME AND SEE ME NEXT TUESDAY’. Don’t ask me how I did it, as I haven’t thought the mechanics through.
Despite being a self-advertising monstrosity, I feel desperately uncomfortable with it. I hate the idea that people think I’m always doing it, or that I only get in contact when I want something. Facebook's a good example: I left the social media platform a couple of years ago because I didn’t like it, yet joined it again before my Edinburgh run in August, as it was hard to get an audience without it. It’s even become the go-to forum for a lot of promoters to book gigs; I had to keep jumping through hoops to to be considered when I wasn’t on it; one emcee would often reference it as he’d introduce my set. He was only joking, but the fact it even came up signposted it as a bugbear.
Now I’m back on Facebook, I keep it at arms length; I know browsing it too much makes me feel bad, so I only use it sporadically, yet inevitably, when I do use it, it will be to drum up an audience. I can almost feel people being irritated my posts, thinking I'm arrogant or conceited, or ignoring them because they’re not about my kids (which I don’t have, though I do own a cat).
I guess there’s no point in worrying too much. Hopefully, by even thinking about it, I’m keeping it in check. The last thing I want is to be seen as self-serving and smug, when in reality I overthink everything I do; come to my show next week to hear all about it.
