In 2007, when I first visited Edinburgh as an open spot, I had no idea Edinburgh was the El Dorado of the comedy industry: that fabled place offering fabulous wealth and opportunity to any would-be comedy conquistador. However, just as the El Dorado of legend has proved rather elusive to all those poor sods who went in search for it, so, as a rule, is Edinburgh glory. For most, it is a hard and rather expensive slog with little apparent reward.

I had already performed at the Edinburgh Festival in the 90s as an actor, playing Miss Haversham in a fringe production of Great Expectations. My father had insisted on coming along to watch. His sudden desire in my theatrical exploits had surprised me somewhat. I had never known my father to be a particular aficionado of the arts. I found out later his reasoning had a more practical bent: he thought it would probably be the only time he’d get to see me in a wedding dress. My father is nothing if not pragmatic (or prescient when it comes to my love life for that matter).

Me as Miss Haversham – 1998. A perfect wedding scenario for my dad. He didn’t have to pay a penny towards the costs.

Then in 2007 as a naïve open spot I was invited to come up to the Festival by some comedy colleagues, primarily because there was a room going for a week in the flat they were sharing and it needed filling (though it wasn’t exactly sold to me like that at the time).

I managed to get some gigs and saw some great shows. I was blown away by two in particular, those of Hattie Hayride and Micky Flannigan’s. I’d seen Hattie before but never seen Micky and both shows had me laughing (and I have some laugh) every 30 seconds or so. They were both masterclasses in writing a great hour of comedy. Micky deservedly got nominated for his show; Hattie didn’t, which goes to show how capricious the world of comedy can be.

Since then, I’ve been up in Edinburgh a few times; I ran a compilation show, where on one memorable occasion I had to wrestle the mic from a performer 12 minutes into her (supposedly) 5 minute set. She had died terribly for the whole 12 minutes but nevertheless doggedly refused to come off stage; I’ve performed a show with 2 other acts and fell out with one of them before I even got up there (that never bodes well); did my first hour about by favourite subject – me (surprise, surprise) and the fact that I’m Britain’s leading Austrian-German speaking, black, lesbian comic despite being British, white and straight (don’t ask); and not forgetting the time I compered a new act show where one of the judges sidled up to me afterwards and confided that “I wasn’t bad for a new comic”. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was the only professional act on the bill.

I’ve fallen out with people, made some great friends, had some great laughs and managed to get work from performing there. Needless to say, I’ve been blanked and been the recipient of what I like to call the Edinburgh Scan. This is when the person talking to you spends all their time looking over your shoulder in the hope they can spot someone more famous/more useful to their career than you. In my particular case, that tends to be most people so these conversations tend to be rather short-lived.

So what would my top tips for Edinburgh be? If you’re there for the duration, then a bus pass is great value for money as everywhere in Edinburgh seems to be up a hill and never down it (I appreciate that’s technically impossible but welcome to Scotland); a mac or some kind of rainproof coat is essential as well as sensible shoes (though that might be more a sign of me getting older). Taking time out is also a damn fine idea. It’s easy to get sucked in and forget there is a world outside comedy: so if you are the unfortunate recipient of a two star review from some foetus with a blog who starts of his damming critique with the phrase “I know nothing about comedy…” (This apparently really happened to someone I know), please know the world is still turning and your career is not at an end.

My only other piece of salient advice is that if you don’t have – at the bare minimum – a decent 20 minutes then perhaps hold off on doing an hour show at Edinburgh for a while. Saying that, I said that once to someone who then went on to get nominated for an award so what do I know?

With that in mind, here are some tips from various Edinburgh veterans.

Top tips go to the mosque kitchen and have a spinach or Dahl curry.

Don’t look at everybody else’s posters.

Barbara Nice

Try to have one conversation a day that doesn’t involve comedy, reviews or other comedians.

Isma Almas

Avoid other performers who aren’t FRIENDS – because they have nothing good to say to you.

NEVER EVER EVER EVER read your reviews while you’re up there, good or bad. – get someone to do that for you. I read a four star review that made me angrier than any two star I’ve ever had because the person couldn’t write they gave away my first punchline in the write up and completely missed the point of the show.

You are your best PR. If anyone asks, you’re having an amazing time, the best time of your life; you’ve never ever had a better Edinburgh. YOU ARE LITERALLY THE EMBODIMENT OF SUCCESS. And then you can cry in the shower every morning as you know you’re going to be performing to 6 angry lesbians. (That might just be me.)

Try and watch stuff that isn’t comedy or whatever it is that you do – it takes you out of your bubble and gives you a different perspective on the festival and even your show.

Don’t drink every night till 6am and then wonder why you’re suicidal by the end of week 2. Alcohol is a depressant so if you’re not feeling great, try and go for a swim or a walk up the crags or more realistically stay at home and binge on 6 hours of Netflix.

Jen Brister

Remember you are on your own journey. Don’t compare yourself to the success/failure of others. It will just make you feel down and make you forget your own achievements. Keep focused on your own progress and do the best you can

Shazia Mirza

Remember that the Fringe is a marathon and not a sprint, so it’s important to pace yourself. Secondly, focus on your own show and don’t get obsessed with how other people are doing. If other acts tell you how well they’re doing, take it with a pinch of salt as everyone exaggerates and bullshits about their own show. It’s very important to have fun. Otherwise, it’s just a month of hard slog. Remember it is a festival, after all.

Vladimir McTavish

Think of Edinburgh as a marathon rather than a sprint – don’t expend all your energy in the first few days or you’ll crash and burn, take it at a steady pace , drink lots of water and try not to shit in the street.

Jojo Sutherland

Surround yourself with people who genuinely care for you and don’t read reviews if you can avoid it.

Allyson June Smith

Vocalzine is the best throat lozenge to keep your voice sounding good.

Eat well, lots of Onega 3s, so poached egg with avocado for a professional breakfast please! Salmon, tinned mackerel or sardines if you like them. Excessive adrenalin bashes your sympathetic nervous system and omega 3s are the quickest rescue method. Mum’s do a fantastic salmon with veg for £7. I practically lived there!

Go swimming. I went every other morning before my 12.30 show and it helped me feel alert and gave me the energy for my three daily shows. Relaxing and invigorating and the lovely local pools often have a steam room & sauna…brilliant for your voice and a great stress buster. Swimming will squeeze your kidneys so if you have been socialising it’s a good detox. Swimming will also encourage you to eat the good stuff. Plenty of water. Always.

If you’re flyering outside your venue don’t forget that you can engage people by also talking about other shows on offer and giving recommendations. Once you’re chatting you can mention that you’re just about to go in and do your show.

Switch off from the festival at a set time each evening and have some down time. Enjoy!

Julie Jepson

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