Annie Louey

Interview by Madeleine Dore

Annie Louey: comedian, presenter, actor, celebrant and producer

Full transcript

“At the start, I built this world around myself to legitimise my status as a comedian. Even though I didn’t believe it, I went and printed business cards, and that was the first step to be like, wow, there’s a physical thing I’m holding that says I’m a comedian. Maybe it’s true. And over the years, I’ve started to let it sink in and if a friend now says at a party, “This is my friend Annie, she’s a comedian,” I won’t stomp on their foot anymore.”
– Annie Louey

Madeleine Dore: Much of the time, we hear from or even celebrate creatives at the very top of their game, and it can seem like how they got there was effortless. And here we are, scrambling. How do they experience that moment of success?

While of course there are different privileges, and also luck can play a role in the timeline of success, there is also a lot that goes on behind the scenes.

One of my favourite illustrations is by the wonderful writer and artist, Mari Andrew, and it depicts an iceberg. At the tip is a moment of seemingly spontaneous success, but below the surface is the rejection, the crying, the quitting, the criticism, the late nights and early mornings, the jealousy, and all the putting yourself out there that isn’t actually seen.

It’s the subterranean that I’m the most curious about. The efforts behind opportunities, the rejection behind success, and this weeks’ conversation was inspiring because it was really, I felt, in the midst of that putting yourself out there phase. And it’s an ongoing phase.

Annie Louey is a fresh comedic talent who is putting all into her career. She quit her job in the public service, is living off savings, and is immersing herself in the world of presenting and comedy, and last year performed over 150 shows.

Annie is doing all this now because, as she describes, time is on her side. But she’s also well aware of the long road to success. From her own observations, it takes at least ten years to pave a career in comedy, so it’s time to begin now.

What’s refreshing about the ten-year timeline is it also shows the need for patience. It’s not a moment of spontaneous success, it’s what’s underneath that counts. It’s about bouncing back from a bad gig, a rejection, or a setback, and putting yourself out there once again.

We speak ahead of her upcoming Melbourne Comedy Festival show, Annie Louey’s Big Break, which is both a hilarious and thoughtful recount of how she was dumped on the opening night of her last comedy festival show.

In this episode, we talk about how to step into being an artist, even when you don’t feel ready, the importance of preparation, setting targets in our career, or with our projects, imposter syndrome, freelancing routines, how admin is actually one of the key parts of any creative career, and how to find motivation within yourself.

Some days we feel like we’re at the tip of the iceberg, some days we feel like we’re stuck right at the bottom. So, in honour of the ebb and flow of our creative careers and our lives, here’s Annie on how she is today.

Annie Louey: A bit tired, but I think once the day starts, I get energised. So this week it’s been pretty hectic with gigs and I moved into a share house where there’s construction every morning at 7-7:30am, so sleep-in’s during the week are over. 

MD: Have you got a lot on this week?

AL: I would probably say it’s average. I think I do three gigs a week anyway, but coming up to Comedy Festival season, I’ve been working with the director and those days have been frying my brain. Having 10-4 in the morning, straight to the afternoon of really intensely picking apart the show that I’d drafted, and then going home and having to do homework before the next rehearsal. But I really enjoy it because I really enjoy nerding out on that stuff. You know, the drama student in me is super happy.

MD: So the show that you’re working on for the Comedy Festival is Annie Louey’s Big Break?

AL: Yes, correct.

MD: And that’s culminated over a year in terms of it’s a response to what happened last year at the Comedy Festival, I believe?

AL: Yeah.

MD: Could you tell us a bit more about what was happening 12 months ago?

AL: When I had the Comedy Festival in 2019, I went through a break-up on the opening night. So during the day, I got dumped, and then I had to do a show that night and pull it all together.

MD: Oh, god.

AL: I couldn’t talk about anything else going through because it didn’t relate to the show, which was about my dad and his old photography and his journey to Australia, as well as silly memory-related games about how I was forgetting a lot of things because I had a day job and was also trying to do comedy at night and trying to work in these ties of memory and memories.

And I thought the next chance I have to unpack this is next Comedy Festival, so I had to box it all up and shelve it because I didn’t want people to think that I was unprofessional as well, even if I open the show and just say, hey, this thing is going on. Part of my brain was like oh, I don’t want to be a woman who looks she can’t do her job or isn’t able to handle her shit.

MD: So with that, how did you deal with heartbreak from the afternoon and then do your first show?

AL: I went to a friend’s house and she said, yeah, come on over, I’ll make a tea, and we sat on her couch and I cried it out and then she said, “I’ve been going through a life coach recently,” and she gave me this blank journal and said, “I’m not going to use it, you have it. Write it in. I’m going to take a nap.”

She honestly said that to me, and I started journaling and felt a lot better than when I entered her place and then, after that, it was time for me to leave and get ready.

MD: So is that something you continue to do? The journaling?

AL: Throughout my life, I’ve journaled in the peaks and the troughs, so the extremes are when I’m drawn to writing about it, so I have a really great day or did an awesome gig and I went to get that out. Or I’m feeling really low and things don’t feel like they’re going on track, so I need to express that as well. 

But I’m trying to get a routine going now because I’ve got a desk set up at home where I can journal just for pleasure, and I’ve got an office as well, which we are sitting in right now, called Stupid Old Studios with a heap of other comedians, so it’s a co-working space. But I want to be able to keep those things separate, work and reflection time.

MD: That’s a really good tip, because sometimes I wonder where is best to do my journaling, but I think that separation is quite a nice thing because I don’t find that I do it at my co-working space either. It’s kind of nice in a café.

AL: Yeah, I don’t want people looking over my shoulder.

MD: Especially when I’m writing stream of consciousness. “Oh, that person’s so annoying.”

AL: Yeah, a lady looked over on the plane when I was doing some journaling and reflecting on that, and it’s like, stop reading my diary!

MD: We’re all so curious.

So you got through that show last year, and what’s the process been like in terms of writing this current show, and dealing with the breakup and expressing your feelings? Or what helped during that time?

AL: Yeah, I think one of the hardest things was, now, recapturing that intense emotion that I felt at the time because I have done a lot healing since. So I’m enjoying picking apart and going deeper, and explaining the whole story to the audience in this next rendition of the show, because I think comedy does scratch at the surface a lot, so I’ve glazed over lots of punchlines, laugh-a-minute kind of stuff, but it leaves the audience with a lot of questions. 

So I do have a lot of friends asking me, oh, are you okay? What happened after that? So I think, now, I’m trying to not just have punchlines, but some more storytelling aspects of it where you don’t need to laugh, but you need to understand, I suppose.

Because I used to think that I was a terrible storyteller. I would tell myself that. Like, oh my stories aren’t any good, I see people at the pub telling a really good [inaudible 08:53] and I’m not one of those people. And then one day I thought, “Who said that?” It’s just been me. No one’s ever said that you’re not good, so then I thought that I was going to flip that and say, “I’m the best storyteller,” and see what happens.

So I started going to The Moth and telling stories, and now I can write that on my blurbs, that I’m a gifted storyteller or has some amazing wit. It’s all about what you perceive and how you want to explore that.

MD: Was that daunting, though, the first time that you decided to flip that and then get up on stage at The Moth, which is a storytelling event around the world? How did you overcome anxiety that first time? Or was it really that self-talk of, “I’m great”?

AL: I think preparation as well. Know that I memorised this four-minute story and I practised a lot and showed it to my sister, and she was very touched by it, the first time that I did The Moth. After that, it was a chance of whether or not you get picked, so a little bit luck plus self-belief plus preparation.

MD: That’s a nice combination. I like that. So if we were to rewind a little bit to how you started out in comedy, because I think a lot of people are curious about comedy because there’s so much involved and so much that you have to invest in the career. You were one of the 2010 national finalists, and then you had a bit of a break for a few years?

AL: Yeah, I was in Year 11 when I entered that competition and then, when I got out of high school, I didn’t know where to gig and my parents wouldn’t really trust that I was doing the right thing, going out so late at night. They were like, “Oh, where are you going? You’re going to a pub? That sounds dodgy, so we’re not taking you.”

I didn’t ever get lifts from my parents, really. They were like, you should just be at home or drive yourself, so I would go and sign up to the open mic spot back then. I would get put at the end of the list. There would be like 20 people and they’d all be men. That was the first open mic that I did, and then it was me. So everybody had left, it was just drunk guys milling around and not listening, and you had to do your set. 

So there was a lot of those kinds of gigs, which wasn’t inspiring, and I’d probably do a gig once every three months, and then they wouldn’t be enjoyable, so I didn’t want to keep going.

And that probably happened throughout university and then, at the end of 2016, I’d finished uni and I didn’t know where to head after that. My dad passed away and I had a big break-up, and then I was like, I’m so lost. I went on a Rotary International Youth Camp and there was a talent show aspect of it and I thought I would do five minutes of stand up, even though I hadn’t done a gig for a long time.

From that, everybody laughed and one guy, who turned out to have done Funny Tonne, where you review a heap of shows, as many as you can, during the festival. He was one of the mentors in the audience, and I could see him laughing along and he came up to me afterwards and said, “That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”

And it was just that little spark that got me back into it. After that I thought, okay, let’s start gigging some more and setting some goals.

MD: That’s amazing how sometimes it really does just take that one person to believe in you and give you that reflection. But 2016 sounds like quite a tough year in terms of that bundling of your father passing away, a break-up, finishing uni. Was there anything that, looking back on that time now, was really helpful?

AL: I think I had trust that I was going to find a job for sure. You can’t be unemployed forever and luckily, once I relaxed into it, the first job that I applied for I actually did get, and it was a graduate programme, which is quite difficult to get into. But thanks to having done a lot of volunteering during that time, I got inspired to do that, I was like oh, even if I don’t get a job yet, I can really give back to the community and this is a temporary period.

In Chinese culture, when somebody passes away, you do volunteering to get good karma for their spirits, so that was nice. Me, my mum, and my sister did food packing and I volunteered to sell badges and things, but I hadn’t found the cause that was really for me yet until later on when I started getting involved in a charity called The Kids Foundation.

MD: What kind of involvement do you have now with The Kids Foundation?

AL: The longer story of how I got into comedy was that I had this life-changing accident when I was 16, when I fainted into a fire and was hospitalised for two weeks. I didn’t know where to connect with other burn survivors. I actually didn’t meet anybody until I started volunteering with this camp and I just Googled what charities were out there? And they have an annual camp in Queensland, and I went up there and I’m like, this is really fun because it’s for the families to relax and I could be a mentor for others.

Nowadays, I’m an ambassador for them, so I attend all their events and their camps and fundraise for them.

MD: Is that a lovely outlet side from your creative practice, to have that kind of focus?

AL: Yeah, it definitely puts everything into perspective because some people have had way more difficult lives and they don’t even see it as being difficult. They go, this is just how it is, and they find other people inspiring. Like they would be like, oh no, you’re inspiring because you’re living the dream or living your creative life. And it always blows me away, every time, because they are some of the happiest people I’ve ever met.

MD: I think that’s really important to remember because the creative practice can be quite hard in terms of how it can be precarious, it can demand a lot, but it can also see us be quite critical to ourselves and maybe diminish our success if we’re comparing ourselves or what have you. And so having that reminder, I would think, is quite nice.

AL: Yeah, definitely.

MD: What kind of spirals do you ever get in, in terms of your creative practice? Or what can be a bit of a stumbling block?

AL: I’m starting to get better at it, but if I do have a bad gig, it’s very easy to start spiralling that night or the next day, and sometimes it feels like you’re falling and you’re still falling until maybe the next gig when you realise that sometimes, right after what you perceive as a terrible gig, will be a really great one because there’s no way it could be as bad as that one.

So you kind of stop caring and that allows you to just have fun. And I think doing tours when I first started, I went to Adelaide and Perth, and it was pretty early on and I didn’t have the coping mechanisms yet, so if I had one bad show out of five, that would really set me off because you have such a limited amount of shows so every one has more weight.

But now that I’ve done whole seasons where you’re performing for a month, you don’t really have time to stop and think about every show or take it too seriously because you’ve got another one coming up. Or you do three gigs in one night to promote yourself.

So I think it’s been good to know that the best gig could still be around the corner, even if the one you just had was bad. So try to not have any expectations.

MD: Oh, I love that. I interviewed Jenny Kee, the fashion designer for Years Ago and she had this lovely life philosophy, really, about how the highlight is always coming and I think that can be applied to comedy or any kind of creative practice, or any life situation. Just thinking, well, the highlight is still around the corner. It’s lovely.

What’s quite remarkable about your trajectory is how you set yourself targets in a year, and one of those targets was to do 50 shows in a year. Could you take us through that process and how you arranged that in your daily life?

AL: It was definitely through rejection that I got to that as a goal. Since I did Class Clowns, I thought the only way to succeed in comedy was to do a competition, to get noticed, and there’s another bigger competition called Raw Comedy that’s around Australia for adults. So I entered that, and I think the first time was 2014. 

I didn’t get through, well, I got through to the first round, but not the next one, and then a couple years later, I tried again, knowing that I’d improved because I’d done slightly more gigs, but somehow got knocked back the first round. I was like, but I know I’ve improved! 

So that’s what lit the fire in me to go, all right, let’s see if this is going to be a thing or if I need to give up. And it was that ultimatum that I set myself, that made me go, I’m going to try 50 gigs in one year and, as part of that, I want to do the Melbourne Fringe because it’s not curated and it is for performers who don’t have agents and aren’t mainstream yet, so I thought that was a safe place to try, even if I do a small amount of shows. Just do it.

And after that, I thought, oh, I’m so naïve, I’ve done this now, and of course it takes hard work for you to get anywhere. I wasn’t going anywhere because I was gigging only three, four, five times a year, and I want to be out there at least once a week or more. The next year, I was able to double that and then last year, the third year of just curiously counting gigs, not for reaching any particular goal, and I found I got to 150 anyway.

So now, the fourth year of this trajectory, and I want to focus on making money from these gigs and actually building this business that I have now so that I can pay the bills. I already have a separate account that goes into. Comedy pays comedy and I don’t use that to pay for my groceries or anything like that. But the goal, ultimately, is to have that account be able to pay for other things as well.

MD: Oh, that’s very organised from a business perspective.

AL: Oh, yeah. It’s also good for tax.

MD: So many little threads I’d love to pick up on. When you’re doing, be it 50 or 150 shows a year, how do you rest in between or how do you fit that into a week? Did you have a day job during the time as well that you’re balancing?

AL: The first two years of that, I was working a day job, 9-5, and then I would gig at night. And I think the busier you are, you find more time to do these things. I guess I was getting energised by doing all of these different things and I found that you can fit a lot more than you think into a day, and that meant when I stopped working that day job, there was a bit like, oh, the day is so empty now. Maybe I’ve done this too early?

But now I find, this year, that if I leave my emails unattended for even a day, it’s building up, so it’s starting to feel like a job now and that’s what I want from it because I want to take it seriously. I realise that two days weekends are not enough. Really, I feel sorry for everyone who has to be young and working a day job, like they’re stealing our youth! 

So I’ve gone really radical about that and when my friends are like, I don’t know if I can come on a cycling ride that day because I don’t have a Friday off, or I’m using my annual leave soon to go on a holiday, and I’m like, but it’s good for your health!

And I know not everybody can afford to quit their day job but, for me, I have definitely learned that I value my mental health a lot more, and one of the things that I want to be able to do is go outside when it suits me, so that is a very simple lifelong goal. Like if it’s a nice day, I want to be able to just leave my computer and go outside.

MD: Yeah, the freelance life is definitely the option there. But I guess to rewind a little bit, as you say, not everyone can afford to quit their day job. How did you afford to, or how did you make that switch to being like, I’m going to go without the safety net?

AL: I lived at home and I had just moved out at 26, so the whole time I’ve been saving and eating all my meals probably at home and having that day job that was pretty high paying, giving it was public service, so I found that I’ve been living off my savings for the last year and a bit.

I know that maybe after this year, it could run out, so I’m prepared to go back to work, but I suppose it is that dilemma of whether you fully commit to your job so that you don’t need to do that, or whether you always have one toe out going, I could get a casual job now, but at the moment I’m feeling that I need to go guns blazing with comedy, so at least I know I have it a real good crack.

MD: Is there something about not having that back-up plan that actually makes you work harder, do you think?

AL: I think it does, yeah. For sure. And I know that I’ve still got time left if I want to go back to a normal job giving my age, so I think that’s a really good thing. I want to fail quickly and know for sure early on in my life if it’s not a good idea. So time, I think, is on my side.

MD: Yeah, it’s the time to experiment. There was something you said earlier that I wanted to touch on again. It’s this idea of, when you first started, there were so many hours in the day. How did you fill them up? 

Because I remember when I first went freelance, I had these grand illusions of how I would have my day, and then there was just something about not having the structure imposed that was actually quite confusing. 

I didn’t know how to build up myself, I kept thinking that there were all these rules, and I’m still kind of learning how to break them and build them for myself. So how did you deal with that empty space?

AL: I had a lot of brunches, I think.

MD: Ooh. I’ve had to ban brunch, actually.

AL: Oh, you’ve had to ban it? That’s a good rule.

MD: As soon as I have a meeting in the morning, that’s my prime time that I need to protect. But you had brunches?

AL: Yeah, I would say it’s a networking opportunity and especially reconnecting with friends who were studying or who hadn’t gone into working yet, and I think that was really valuable time. Because now if I need someone to help me with a job during the day, there’s like no one now. Not many of my friends have that freedom to duck out in the afternoon.

I think researching a lot. I probably read a lot of books that first year, and this year I’ve been too busy to, so reading a lot of autobiographies, which is my favourite thing to read.

MD: Of comedians?

AL: Yeah, a lot of comedians. In the past, I’ve read all the classics like Tina Fey and Amy Poehler and all of that, and watching stand-up shows on Netflix is, I suppose, a good form of procrastination. If I was going to do anything, at least it’s related to the field that I’m in.

MD: That’s the thing, it’s like this blur of what’s work and what’s pleasure? They’re one and the same sometimes. And it’s really interesting because now you are a comedian, MC celebrant, actor, producer, radio host. So there’s a lot of moving parts to your freelance life. Can you tell us what that looks like day-to-day?

AL: Day-to-day, I really cling onto the routines that have been built in my schedule, and there’s not much of it but, for example, every Monday afternoon I do radio on Joy for their drive programme Annie and Ando and we start the production meeting at 2:00 and we go through to the evening, so that’s my whole Monday blocked out for radio so I’m like, yes, there’s something regular in the schedule.

And then Thursdays I host Music from 9-12, and that’s pretty much the whole regular schedule I’ve got. That’s it. And I used to run a comedy room, which I stopped doing this month, but for a year and a half every third Wednesday would be the night that we had the show. So even that gave me a lot of joy to be like, oh, I know what I’m doing today. 

But around that, otherwise I’ll be doing a lot of admin. Comedy is mostly admin. People don’t realise that. And going to gigs at night. So I would average probably three. And I don’t believe you need to hit 100 gigs to be a good comedian. A lot of people have this theory, but I think it’s about getting that stage time and quality gigs as well, because some are definitely detrimental to your mental health.

MD: How do you find that balance then, between getting enough but then knowing the ones that are detrimental?

AL: I’ll take a chance on a room and if I saw the quality of the acts. Like for example, if there’s anything that’s a red flag, like homophobic, racist, or sexist, I’ll be like, okay, that one’s blacklisted, I’m not going again.

We also have a chat on Facebook for women who gig a lot, so it’s nice that, if somebody notices something, they’ll speak about it and we can chat openly and there’s some really good women’s Facebook groups now, so it makes it easier to decide where to go and where to avoid.

MD: Now you’ve obviously got that amazing confidence and resilience. How did you get to that point? Was there ever imposter syndrome?

AL: Yeah, imposter syndrome definitely. Being a smart woman, I found that was a really hard dichotomy to resolve because I didn’t think that if you were super smart you could be funny. I don’t think I saw a lot of role models who looked like me who had those qualities, and I’m still trying to resolve it to this day, but it’s got a lot better because being smart helps you with the admin and, if comedy is mostly admin, then yeah, you’re nailing it.

At the start, I built this world around myself to legitimise my status as a comedian, even though I didn’t believe it. I went and printed business cards and that was the first step to be like, wow, there’s a physical thing I’m holding that says I’m a comedian. Maybe it’s true. And to go with that, I built a website.

Over the years, I’ve started to let it sink in and if a friend now says at a party, “This is my friend Annie, she’s a comedian,” I won’t stomp on their foot anymore. I’d be like, stop telling people that. I talk to a lot of people who are comedians and they’re not funny all the time, so that made me relax more into myself. It’s a certain skill that you can hone to be able to be really good on stage, that’s not necessarily the guy who’s at the pub telling a joke. That’s a different skillset.

MD: It’s amazing how you’ve been able to address those stories. I think that’s such a common one, being able to be the first to call yourself something that you want to be, be it a writer, an artist, a comedian.

Back to this fact that comedy is mostly admin. I’d love to hear more about the admin and how you fit that into your day.

AL: Yes, I don’t have a routine, but I find the admin is really comforting because the creative stuff is so open that you can write anything. I usually tackle the admin first because I know how to do an invoice and I know how to respond to emails. Booking gigs is also part of that, so some days will be sending messages to room bookers to get on their lineups.

Other days it could be sending bios. A lot of writing, rewriting bios, and listing your achievements for things in a succinct way. Graphic design as well. It’s a lot of random stuff that I didn’t expect, but if I’d known earlier that these were all the tasks that a comedian does, I probably would’ve put my hand up earlier, knowing that it wasn’t just all about writing the perfect joke.

MD: Yeah, it’s a lot of the behind the scenes work as well. So what goes into writing the perfect joke then? What’s your creative process like?

AL: I wait for inspiration to strike, which is probably not the most efficient way, but I don’t have a routine where I sit down and go, I have to have 30 minutes of writing time, for example. But I’ll collect any time I’m out and an idea pops up, I’ll type it into a note in my phone and then flesh it out on paper in my joke book. 

I think a lot of comedians, if they lose that joke book, it is death for them. Just knowing that your unfiltered thoughts are floating around somewhere in the world is very, very scary, but usually I’ll script it and then go to a room to try it and after that I’ll rework and solidify it.

But I think I’m more about the muscle memory, so if I have an idea, I want to be able to say it multiple times until it’s part of my body. The writing has been a new thing for me, like scripting it out properly, and that was something I saw from another comedian, [inaudible 28:48], who showed me how he categorises every joke and has numbers in this show and he bolds all the punchlines and where he expects people to laugh.

I went oh, I should start doing that. So last year was the first time I had a script for a show and it was super helpful to be able to see, oh, that’s an opportunity for a callback, and then I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t written it out like that, so there’s some real benefits to having that process and that workflow.

MD: I would love to hear a little bit more about the mechanics of your day-to-day. Like are you a morning person? Other than the forced morning that you have now with the construction.

AL: I’m not a morning person. I’ve always said I’m a night owl and the lifestyle of gigging at night works perfectly for me, but I’ve had to be flexible in the past year because we did a breakfast radio slot over the summer and I started getting into cycling, which is definitely a morning person thing, so the people that I cycle with will go, let’s get on the road at 6am for safety!

So I’ll be setting alarms and my alarm list looks crazy. It’s anywhere from 4am all the way to 8:30 because naps. And sometimes I won’t have time for an alarm, I’ll have to just set a timer, and I’ll be like let’s have 13 minutes of sleep right now and I’ll nap in my car.

But I find it a lot easier to wake up now that I’m doing things out of my own accord, not because somebody is making me wake up to go to work at 9 o’clock because, when I had a day job, my alarm would ring and often the first thing that comes out of my mouth would be a swear word. That’s not a nice way to start the day.

MD: Yeah, now that you’re waking up for you. So how has cycling been? I was reading that cycling was something that you really threw yourself into post-break-up that we recently spoke about. What’s it like as a healing process?

AL: It’s funny because we often find things that we were never interested in beforehand, but you’re thrust into it when you’ve gone through something traumatic or a lifechanging event, and I got into it because I was raising money for this charity and doing a charity bike ride. It was going to be a really long distance, around 100km a day for four days, so to me that was huge, and I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know how to use clip-in shoes, I had never ridden a road bike, I have an electric bike usually.

But once I started training for it, I could see how it gets people addicted to it because you are spending a lot of time by yourself. Hours at a time. And it’s thinking time and I was surprised at the thoughts that would fall out during that time. I was like, wow, that was really negative, and I was able to identify that and go, that’s not helpful to me, or let go of that.

Especially if I’ve had a bad gig and I get on the bike the next day, I can use that time to process. I’m like, wow, that’s popping up in my head a lot. During this space of a few hours, I’m thinking about that every five minutes, so it’s good to be able to identify that and be forced, I suppose, to meditate on the bike.

MD: For hours, that’s so rare to do that. To just be alone with your thoughts and not with your phone. You can’t have the phone while you’re cycling.

AL: Yeah, and when you’re really struggling, it forces you into the moment to be like, okay, let’s just watch the trees go past or let’s call out the colour of the cars because I’m in a lot of pain right now going up a hill. You don’t have time to think about anything else sometimes, which is good.

MD: So how often will you ride each week?

AL: Each week, I would average, according to my Strava account, I’m averaging one ride a week and it will usually be a long one, but on a good week probably two in the morning and doing somewhere between 60 and 80km.

MD: So as well as these long bike rides, the comedy, the admin, how do you fit in the other moving parts of your career? Like with the celebrancy, for example, how does that come into it?

AL: That’s a new thing. I’m waiting for my certificate to come any day now and I’ve got a wedding coming up in May and that’ll be my first one. I think that’s something that’s bubbling away in the background. It’s like a gig that pops up, and it’s infrequent. 

The other things, in terms of acting, that’s also pretty random and it comes up maybe once a month. I’ll go to that job and it usually doesn’t require a lot of rehearsing. You have to memorise your lines, so that’s good. Pretty infrequent as well.

And the rest, what are the things that I mentioned? 

MD: Producer.

AL: Oh yeah, producer. So now that I’m not doing that comedy room, it allows me to work on more of my comedy and my friend who’s podcast I was producing, she’s now moved overseas, so these are all hats that I’m able to wear, but it doesn’t mean I’m wearing them all the time.

MD: That’s an important reminder, I think, is that sometimes you can be overwhelmed by all the hats that you have, but actually they can go with different outfits. So how do you deal with the uncertainty that comes with being a gig worker?

AL: I like the variety and I think that really does suit me. Other people might think, I’d be so daunted if I didn’t have that structure, but I think I would be really bored if I had to stick to a routine. I remember the last day when I quit my job, I was walking around and it was lunchtime and I saw a lady eating a footlong sub at her desk while scrolling slowly on news.com.au and I’m like, everybody looks so comfortable, so there was a tinge of jealousy, like I’m going to lose this and the money is so good. But I knew I had to leave to give it a shot. 

Because I felt unresolved, all these different hats were on the table, I had to see a marketing strategist to be like, how do I resolve this? And she said to call myself a presenter first, and the other things are working with people on other projects, so would be considered a collaborator, and then another stream is teaching, so I can also teach workshops around all these things that I know about. 

So that just limits it to three, and that makes me feel like, yes, I knew they were all related and now they can be neatly categorised and I don’t feel so flustered like I’m a jack-of-all-trades and master-of-none anymore.

MD: How helpful is that? I might have to get the name of that marketing strategist. I think a lot of people can feel overwhelmed by their multi-hyphenate careers but actually it’s an incredible skill and you can just step into them at different times.

So I guess your evenings would look drastically different, depending if you have a gig or not? How do you arrange sleep or eating well and all those kinds of things that require time?

AL: It’s got easier now that I’m living out of home and, even though you think having your parents cook you food makes things a lot easier, it’s much easier when I know what’s in the fridge and I know that I have to cook it before it goes off with a week. I live very close to the Vic Market now in Melbourne and that’s where you can get a lot of fresh produce. It’s really cheap and I’m starting to enjoy cooking and I used to not because I’m like, why does my thing not look like the thing on the packet? Plus it takes forever, and I must be sucking at it.

But turns out, making good food takes time. You just have to deal with it. But I think we’re so distracted nowadays and often when I’m at the stove, I’m like, I want to check my phone, I want to be doing something else, or can I brush my teeth while doing this? No, it’s a fire hazard, okay, I just have to stand here and supervise.

And I think that’s good because now people I’m living with are like, hey, you’re actually a really good cook, that looks really nice. I’m like ah, yeah, it’s because I’ve been comparing myself to my mum the whole time and her cooking is so good. I thought, if I can’t be that good, I just give up, but I’m trying to undo that, relearn it, tell myself a new story.

So food prepping once a week, even if it’s random, not like on a Sunday or anything, and I’ll buy all these ingredients and know I have to cook it. And I’m learning at least one new thing a week to add to my recipe collection.

MD: Another great experiment. There seems to be this lovely running theme of you really noticing the stories that you’re telling yourself and then flipping them. What taught you to be aware of this? Or what really helped to make this a regular practice? Because I think it’s something that we all do, but we let the stories keep running.

AL: If I’m to be honest, probably therapy helps a lot to unlock all of that. About three years ago, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and I didn’t even know I had it because it became so normal in every day and we don’t talk about that in my family. It’s very stigmatised. And so once I started going to sessions and realising, ah, there’s stories I’ve been telling myself this whole time and they’re not true. They kickstarted it for me, to start seeing it myself in other aspects of my life and calling myself out on that. 

I think one of the first activities I did was journaling one event per day that really affected me emotionally, and writing the intensity of that emotion, which could be anger or sadness or anxiety, and then drilling down into what’s the final thought? What are you really afraid of? And then, once I looked at that, it was usually like, I’m afraid I’m a failure, or I’m afraid that nobody likes me.

They just look so ridiculous when you have to write it on a paper and hand it in to somebody or read it out loud. So after that, it probably brought out more humour in it because I’m laughing at myself and being like, oh that’s my brain trying to trick me, trying to tell me these lies and ha ha, okay, let’s get back on track and try to think the opposite and see what happens.

MD: I love that. The thing is, your brain is third party. Just be like, brain, stop it. Even have a name for your brain, I like to call my brain or my anxiety Shelly because it’s like the shell of Madeleine and it just gives you that distance, which can be really helpful.

AL: I like that. Okay, I’m going to work on naming my brain.

MD: Yeah, the alter ego. And so what about sleep then? Do you get regular sleep with gigging, or is that something that can be thwarted?

AL: No, I definitely love to sleep and need it. I would probably get six to eight hours, probably more around seven hours, each night, so that is good. I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder last year, which is idiopathic hypersomnia, where you can fall asleep during the day. So if I’m given an opportunity to nap, I will, and it usually affects me when I’m driving, and I need to pull over and have a nap. And it gets worse if I’ve been sleep deprived and had a busy week.

But I’m finding that when I’m staying active in this new freelance lifestyle, it’s not much of a problem. Whereas I would fall asleep at work all the time, like in meetings and being really embarrassed. I had a one-on-one session with somebody at my computer and I fell asleep. They didn’t know about it, but yeah, sleep is definitely super important.

When you’re gigging, you can’t fall asleep, so now that this is my job, it’s impossible to fall asleep on the job because you’ve got adrenaline going and you’re moving around, and cycling around everywhere to meetings really helps me. I think it’s an oxygen thing. You’ve got to get oxygen to the brain and if you’re sitting down, it’s not going to happen as easily.

I try to limit the locations of activities per day, so I think three is where I max out. If I have to move across the city to do three different things in three different places, I know it’s going to be a sure-fire way to burn out. So now it’s been this years’ challenge to say no more. That’s one of my goals. To collaborate with people more and to say no more often, because other people don’t have oversight of my entire schedule. So it looks like I’m just rejecting them for brunch, but really, I’m actually going to four other places that day. So it’s knowing not to feel guilty if I have to say no to that.

MD: What kind of things are you saying no to and what kind of things are you trying to prioritise?

AL: For example, the gigs that I know that aren’t going to benefit me much or where I didn’t have a purpose going into them, and it’s sometimes drinks with friends. And sometimes family is a huge pressure, like come home for dinner and my mum wants to give me food and help me do chores or something, so saying no to that as well, but knowing that you still love them and it’s all good.

Some things, like maybe helping your friends do things, like free stuff, like for example I’m helping with my friend’s podcast, but other people might want free advice for a lot of different things, so you have to draw a line and say that this is a service that I offer and you might have to pay for it, for instance.

MD: It’s definitely something people aspire to, just saying no to more, but actually even the wording is really hard and daunting. Actually saying no in a way that still shows that you love somebody and care for them. I don’t know if you have any succinct one-liners that we can have? Or how you say no?

AL: I mean, from customer service, you always offer an alternative, right? So it should never be outright no. You can use other words, for example, I can’t give you a discount, but I do have this offer, it’s a two-for-one and that’s the best that I can do. So trying to always add something positive. I don’t think I’ve ever said outright no to anyone.

MD: No, mum, I’m not coming.

AL: Yeah, like not this week, but let’s check in again next week.

MD: I like that. We’re flying through some great stuff. Did you have anything that you wanted to add?

AL: I’ve been buying the same wall planner for ten years.

MD: Oh, what wall planner is that?

AL: It’s the [inaudible 43:21] one. And if it’s not on the wall planner, I’m not going to take it seriously. So that’s how I organise my life. I have the calendar on my phone, which is organised into personal, freelance, and performing, and then every gig will go onto the calendar and all the major events, and that’s still where I count the gigs out of curiosity.

You’re meant to motivate yourself externally, is what my psychologist said. Doing the task shouldn’t be the reward, which I still do because going home and writing that number on my planner is still my little way of going, well done. 

MD: Gold star.

AL: Yeah, gold star. And over the years, it’s been really exciting to start the year with a blank slate and it makes you feel nervous, but then by the end of it, it’s always filled with so much writing and scribble and yes, things are getting crossed out, but then you’re adding lots of things in. So that piece of paper, or cardboard, at the end of the year is something I really treasure. And I probably only started throwing out the old ones recently, where it’s like, okay, we don’t need a wall planner from 2012. 

MD: I think that’s so lovely in terms of how you’ve tracked progress, but also has it taught you a bit about the role of patience in a comedy career especially?

AL: Yeah. I think, on average, the people that I admire, they’ve taken ten years to hit mainstream. For example, I love Celia Pacquola. I’ve been telling everybody about her since Rove Live, which was when I was a kid in primary school and now she’s on Dancing with the Stars and everyone’s like, have you heard of Celia Pacquola? She’s so great, she’s on Dancing with the Stars. I’m like yes, yes.

And I saw a post on Instagram where Geraldine Hickey was on Roadshow, which is a comedy tour of the country around Australia, all these comedians, it’s pretty prestigious to get picked for that, but she was picked for that over ten years ago, which is already very admirable, but now she’s hitting mainstream with her show on Triple R and all of that. And the same names on that shirt were Rhys Nicholson and other names that are now household names.

So I look to that and think if ten years is the plan and the timeline we’re working with and I’m three years in, everything’s on track. It’s better than on track. I’m getting some really good gigs and every time I get something good, my mind is blown. I think back to little me being like, you never would’ve expected this, and the best is probably still yet to come.

MD: That’s a wonderful timeline to have and it also goes to show even when you get the prestigious opportunity, there’s still more work to be done. It doesn’t just stop. There’s going to be another step to take.

AL: And also if you died tomorrow, you’d still have a list of to-dos that would be unfinished, and that’s what I think. That helps me relax. Like okay, things are never, ever done, so don’t worry. If they’re not done today, it’s okay, that list is always going to be there.

MD: Does it ever come a time where it goes the other way, where the list is daunting, and you think about a giving up point? Or does this whole attitude of experimenting actually help quell that?

AL: Probably not. I look to people who I hang out with at the moment on the comedy scene and they are maybe up to ten years older than me, and they’re still doing things that I’m doing today, so I think I’ve got plenty of time, and they’re not in a hurry either. They’re still waiting to make it and that doesn’t get them down. So I feel really good about that.

MD: Do most comedians have other focuses as well, similar to you in terms of having the celebrancy and producing and acting?

AL: Yeah, definitely. And some of them have day jobs and are still killing it in comedy on the side as well, so there’s so many ways to go about it and I know that I can be just as flexible if I had to. If money runs out, I can always go back to that and restructure my life.

And it’s an outlet for me that this fire isn’t going to stop burning, so I have to find ways to work around it. A drama teacher told me when I was in high school, he was like, “This need to perform is always going to be in you.” That sounds super ominous, but I still remember that, and he was right. I tried not doing it, but it’s still escaped and came out and now it’s come to the forefront.

Sometimes I reassure myself that I’ve gone too far to stop, like it’s actually impossible now, which is a good thing. You are deep in it and if you stopped, you would miss all of this, which is a lot of things.

MD: That’s a great way to put it. So you’re now in it and it’s wonderful and there has been some ruts along the way, or some loss as well. So what would be your advice to someone who’s really in the thick of the tricky part?

AL: It’s hard to say when you don’t know the person’s exact situation. I think getting your mind off it, if you feel like you are stuck with something like I did with volunteering or whether you find something completely different to rest your mind for a while, it’s okay to not think about what’s making you stuck.

And often if I’m struggling with a punchline, I’ll just ignore the fact that that’s on my to-do list. I’ll do something completely different and, when you’re least expecting it, it’ll pop up again. And it could be a joke that you started three years ago and go, oh finally, I found the punchline! Or I believe it’s funny so I’m going to keep trying it until other people believe it’s funny. But you don’t have to be working on it all the time.

MD: I love how with life’s big hurdles, it’s the same, try and fix on something else. Even with the small hurdles, it’s the same philosophy.