Crushing It........Kind Of

Life has been a little nuts lately. For one my schedule is filled. I am currently in a master's program for creative writing. It's one where I do a ton of field work and is ideal for the independent student. Yet it is a lot of work, a lot. I never disliked school and would have probably pursued a master's earlier, but I completed high school and was taking college classes as I was doing high school. And because my undergrad was so expensive, I completed it in three years. My parents were generous enough to fit the bill, and I was generous to complete it ahead of schedule, plus I entered college with college credit already.

Needless to say, as I went to school both winters and summers and never stopped, when college ended I could not take one more acting class let alone write one more paper. I would dip my foot into a graduate writing seminar or a master acting class, but the road was my first love and my brain needed a rest. I had an ex boyfriend once tell me that, "Your brain works overtime, and this is why you do so many foolish things. You get tired of thinking."

Harsh, yes. Also true.

Now I am back in school and love the program I am in. I am also paying for it myself. I am rediscovering how I love school actually. Currently I am on the literary magazine and spent the past month judging a short story competition. While I expected the good, the bad, and the ugly we got some amazing entries. Instead of the allotted six books required by the mentee group, I have chosen to read seven. My program mentor told me I could read more than the designated number and here I am doing it. As a rule, my annotations and writing packet are turned in early.

My mom called me having her yearly meltdown about my life. It happens around this time each year so she is directly on schedule. According to her, I wasn't greeting my new program with enough "gusto." Meanwhile, if I had anymore gusto I would burst into flames.

I am also rededicating myself to my acting. Each Monday night I take a comedy acting class, and I adore my teacher. More often than not I bring in work I wrote and he critiques me. He performs and writes his own work and thinks traditional theatre people are stuffy snobs. I have been with him for several months and want to continue.

Coming back to acting class was difficult as I loved my acting teachers in college, but felt a tad burned out. I was also very hard on myself as a youngster, and beat myself with a hammer to the point where it made progress difficult. Coming back was difficult as I was prone to beating myself up again, and I discovered it after one class where I was close to tears. The truth is, as my acting teacher explained, I am among friends in class. It is safe to fail in class. Things do not have to be brought to completion in class.

I also realize I am hard on myself. My mentor in my writing program called me judgmental in my work. I am judgmental when it comes to others because I hold myself to insane standards. There are days I leave the house wearing coffee wondering why the fuck I got out of bed. Only to realize everyone has those days. So yes, I am beating myself up less, or at least trying to.

In between, I am also starting a voiceover class every Tuesday night. I have always wanted to do this and believe I am a natural, and a casting director a few years ago told me to take a class and make a reel. He was a nice guy actually. Too bad I was too busy beating myself up to take his feedback. Now I will be in class every Monday and Tuesday night. I look forward to the class as it was a generous gift from a friend who knew I wanted to do this for myself for a long time, and this friend surprised me with the class as a present. While it is one more thing in my plate, it is also a welcome thing as this was a gift out of love.

Each Friday I am also rehearsing with my pianist. We are mounting The Lady and President Tramp in  May. There have been rewrites to the show and I am sure there will be more. Being in a graduate program makes me not afraid to revise. I have a teacher in my program who says when you refuse to revise or get writer's block, it is fear. Never have truer words been spoken.

Saturdays are spent rehearsing The Crucifixion. I play Simon Peter, the one who helps Jesus with the cross and accidentally sells him out. He later flees because of his legal problems. Later Peter writes the story and builds the first church, only to be crucified upside down. The Easter story is pretty intense really. In this retelling, we have a Jesus who is a woman of color and a Jesus who is a break dancing black man. We also have a Judas who is a black man who sings country. And then you have Simon Peter, who is a tad queer. It all works and is the vision Family Founder Marvin Camillo would have loved.

I am singing in this show which is magical and strange, because I sing for my day job so this isn't a stretch. Granted, my voice is not as good as the young woman who plays Mary, a Broadway style singer who will likely be there someday, or Judas, who looks like Boys 2 Men but when he sings you hear his idol, Randy Travis. It's also an ensemble show that isn't comedy, which I haven't done since college either. We have performances Good Friday and Holy Saturday. I look forward to the opportunity for artistic and spiritual growth.

I am also in a comedy staged reading next week. I haven't done a staged reading in years which has me excited, and I am making big choices. While the opportunity isn't paid, it's opening doors and this company might also let me have readings of my own work, which would be exceedingly exciting.

On top of that I am still performing regularly, and working on becoming a headliner. Am I crazy? Maybe. But that's the world we live in. More on those developments later.

Monday night I realized all I had taken on, and knew this was going to be Herculean. Then I went to a show to perform and there was an improv jam that was ending. I hadn't done improv in years, so when they called me up I was shocked. But I just went with it and crushed it. If I died at that moment I would have been happy because I was having so much fun and loved what I was doing in that moment.

But then it could suck because I died.

Yet I am taking risks, going for it. Maybe I feel crushed, but when you feel crushed perhaps you are doing better than you think you are. If you feel like you are crushing it all the time, you probably aren't.

So I suppose I am crushing it.......Kind Of......

Now to get back to my reading for school

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Taking the Plunge

My climb to headliner status has been a rocky one. This past weekend I headlined my first two nighter for real. I headlined and featured at the same time for the past several years never really knowing the difference. It was an appearance and a chance to make money while making people laugh. Sometimes being a woman was what bumped me ahead. Then it was being a prop act. Wasn't bad that I was on TV a few times.

At the same time being a woman has held me back. I have had bookers tell me I was "funny for a woman." Well Sir, these days not only are my people funny but we go to school, become professionals and even run for president. Really. You should see us. (Asshole). Then there have been men who were resentful that I was billed higher. They would tell me how accomplished they were while bad mouthing me when they felt I wasnt around, bemoaning their fate of having a woman who was higher up than them. At one point it got to me so bad I almost quit comedy. Add in the stupidity from male bookers and club owners who felt it was okay to sexually harass the talent in a skirt.

Then there was the fact I was a prop act. A club owner in Vegas would not give me a guest spot to be seen because of my prop act status. He said headliners didn't like me. He didnt even ask the headliner his opinion. It was just a chance to be a dick and close the door.

Then I was on TV, but it wasnt the right shows. I was a reality star. It wasn't Letterman or Colbert or whatever the newest trend was.

They say try to be so funny you can't  be denied. The nature of the beast is that even if you are funny, you will still be denied. Shit sucks but welcome to show biz.

This past year I have really been working my ass off to get to the next level though. I have been good about not letting the bullshit invade my life too badly. My focus has been on my jokes. I have been hitting open mics like Batman hits the Joker. Several events happened, my eviction and a breakup with a mentally ill partner, to make it so comedy was the very thing that kept me from killing myself.

I have become very conscious of delivery and writing in a way I never have. I did a one woman show, which is not the same as a headliner set but it's an hour of you onstage with no break. It's an hour where you leave swimming in your own sweat. It's an hour where you smash the stereotype that performers are selfish because you are giving your all and then some. It's an hour where you feel like eating lots of sugar afterwards cause you need the simple carbs. It's an hour where the next day you feel like you ran a marathon but don't remember running a road race.

This past weekend I was in Trump country. It was trippy and it wasn;t the easiest room because of the layout. It was sort of baptism by fire for my first headlining set. My first night it was a Green Acres learning curve where it was a love/hate relationship between the audience and I. The second night I was more relaxed and had fun. Both nights the room was tough.

Yet both nights the crowds were appreciative. Afterwards there were photos taken and drinks being bought. I sold some merch on the road, but like a green headliner didn't know to ask for a table to sell it. My first night I was reminded I wasnt in NYC as I have a bit where Kim Jong Un calls and a pipe line worker yelled, "Nuke that little fucker!" Yes, there was audience participation.

The next night, Donald J. Tramp has a joke where he goes to call Hillary Clinton the c word and I stop him. Someone yelled, "Call that bitch cunt what she is. A bitch cunt!" Yes, oh comedy.

(Note, May Wilson killed as usual and Mom was a hit)

One of the best moments though was when I went to the front desk before my second show. The front desk lady said, "Oh, you were the comedian, I heard all about you."

I did a shrug, that could mean anything. I was like wow, and then she said, "Oh, only good things. There was one older gentlemen who was nervous when you stepped onstage. He figured you would just talk about sex all night long. But he was amazed at the creativity and originality of your act and he intends to return tonight."

At first I had a laugh. Yes, women. Some of us have substance to my acts. But you should really see my people. But then I thought of all the women headliners who put up with the same shit I did. The same women headliners who also took time and effort to write an act with depth. And then I thought of all the headliners, male and female, who wrote an act with depth and went the extra mile. I thought of all the people who had helped me this past year and continue to help me.

I also thought of the meltdown my mom had about my life. But she also got me an aqua colored notebook. It's a place to write my new bits down. It's a place to bleed my feelings on the page. It's a place to create more bits that bring people together. It's a place where I can continue to do the work. It's a place where I remember how the rest of the comics wanted to impress me this weekend, and where I can continue to be someone to be looked up to. It's a place where I can write a lot of hack shit and have the bad die in a dark basement out of the sight of anyone important. It's a place where I remember it's a marathon not a sprint.

It's a marathon.

That's why I sweat when I leave the stage.

My mom hates my book but she's happy I am eating more fruit. You should totally buy it. Buy My Book

Comedy Guide Post: Not Panicking

Lately, in between marathon practice sessions I have been watching the greats for inspiration. During my years as a comedian, I kind of got lazy about watching other comedians that were "greats." Some of it was I became soured by the politics, and also because when you are fighting it out it seems some of the greatest just got that way on their own. They didn't tank and eat it at open mics like you do. No Sir, they were just born amazing.

One bad habit that I have been trying to break is my panic button. It developed during years of doing short sets in New York. If you didnt make the audience laugh right away you were cooked worse than a burnt piece of toast. So when an audience doesn't do what I want them to do right away, I panic.

I freaking panic.

I panic.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I know the panic button is why I talk so fast and why I race to the punchline, and I do mean race sometimes. Now that I am trying to do longer sets and want to be a hell of a headliner, I am trying to break that habit as I have been whining. The thing is, I panic when an audience doesnt do what I want. "They could smell your fear." A club owner/headliner who worked with me said when I ate it hard but somehow showed enough promise for him to agree to help me........or he wanted to up his kharma. Hell if I know.

This club owner suggested just not even acknowledging the silence by saying, "That didnt work" continuously when that happened. Instead just to keep going. Eventually they would give you what you wanted if you just TALKED TO THEM.

Instead I let them see me sweat when they dont give me what I want.

I even did it today with a singing telegram. They didnt give me what I wanted and I started to panic. That panic is terrible. It's not just me but comedians as a whole who feel it. We push. We try harder. We acknowledge it. What the freeeeekkkkkkkkkkkk works?!?!!?!?!?!?!

What sucks is now that I am conscious of the habit it makes me wanna kick myself more. I know it all goes back to talking to my audience, and then that way it doesnt look like I am trying to hard to be liked. One who is amazing at that is Bernie Mac. He just talks to his people. Sometimes he doesnt get the big payoff at the end of a joke, but he keeps going. Because he is persistent and doesn't let the audience see him sweat, when the does get to the end of the bit the payoff is AMAZING!!!!

He knows how to run the marathon. It's not gonna be dead at the end of a long set. He's gonna rock a short set. He doesn't let you see the panic button, because the man probably took his out. Gosh I wanna get to that point.

What sucks so badly is I want to do so well all the time. Now that I am trying to break all these bad habits the short sets have given me, sometimes I feel like retreating to my room never to do comedy again. But I know when I am breaking down I am just breaking through. It's growing pains.

But I am also breaking terrible habits, and some that are actually letting me see what I am capable of as a comedian. I am good on my feet and need to embrace that more. I take risks, sometimes too many but risks are what make us artists. Not to mention that I am uncovering an ability as a storyteller, one that I wasnt embracing as I was just going joke punchline, joke punchline. Maybe this new layer ain't so bad.

Either way......that's my guidepost for this week.

www.AprilBrucker.TV

Talking to the Hand: Olympic Ventriloquism

I have been working really hard to master the perfect technique as of late. Each day I have been practicing tirelessly. I video myself now, which means my practice regimen has become Ivan Drago like. Actually, it has been helping quite a bit. Over time, I became lazy with my technique because of the street performances and late nights in the clubs. Alas, there is no substitute for the basics.

My mentor has been having me learn a new routine. Each day I send him a video. He gives me feedback. Several days ago he said I looked tired and needed to take a break. I said it was ventriloquist death march. He corrected me. It was zombie ventriloquism.

Each day, I have been delivering telegrams all day and at night I have been practicing. I do not want to hit the clubs yet because I do not want to reveal my new routine. I do not want to hit the open mics because I tire of the amateur hour there. I accept money to do comedy. Granted, while open mics are a safe place to fail I don't feel I get anything done there. Plus what comedians like and what real people like are quite different. It's hard to get certain spots being a woman. That is why I am letting my mentor guide me.

Yesterday we talked about my want to headline. I did a longer set recently, and all would have been a complete explosion but for the help of an understanding club owner who gave me a kick of tough love and got me working with a puppet stand. The stand has made all the difference and has brought my puppet work to a whole new level.

My mentor explained that a headlining set is making love while a shorter set is like a quickie. Still, there is no place in NYC to really perfect the longer set. Again, I will let my mentor guide me on that one.

Either way, I have more ventriloquism to practice. This is how I am going to kick my evil landlord where it hurts. This is how I am going to get my ex who lied and was fucking around behind my back with some cheap swamp trash who accepted her court fines paid with Western Union. (Oh and cheating he was, oh yes he was). This is how I am going to get my fiance back who used to abuse me and wanted to take my puppets away. This is who I am going to restore my faith in myself. This is how I am going to give it to every Goddamn male headliner who ever thought I was chattel. This is how I am going to give it to every dumbass woman who got mad at her husband for sending me fan mail. This is how I am going to give it to everyone who ever made fun of me in school.

Call me Gepetta!

Shit, they are still making fun of me.

Better get back to my puppet stand...........I'm going for the gold. 

A Summer Place (Percy Faith)

When I was starting comedy, the big emphasis was on headlining. To headline it meant you were a star. It was your night.It meant you worked hard and were good at what you did. When they brought you up, your television credits were announced. The crowd cheered. You blew them away. Meanwhile the rest of us neophytes looked at you with admiration and idolized you. We were envious of your talent and television credits, but dreamed we would get there someday.

My big dream has always been to headline theatres. My act is one that is different. Club owners and bookers either want to grab me up or slam the door on my fingers. Casting directors want me because I am unique, or want nothing to do with me for the same exact reason. It is a two sided coin, a boobie prize sometimes but a prize in other ways.

A year and a half ago, I was ready to quit standup all together. I had just released a book, and wasn't hitting the stage as much. My focus was changing from comedy to just writing and I thought perhaps that was the path I wanted to take. Sure, I was making videos and stuff, and getting on TV had become "easy" for me. I thought standup was something I did when I was young and going through hell, and it had gotten me through.I had become sick and tired of the politics, and how I was always seemingly on the wrong end of the debate. It seemed being unique and being visible were the worst things to happen to me. No one wanted me. Male headliners were quick to remind me that they were men, and therefore I should make room for them for this reason. Not to mention I was reminded of how I was simply getting things because I was a "cute girl with puppets." Male bookers were something else too. Women were no help, telling me I pandered to men when they were more guilty than I was. I had paid my dues and was getting shafted. It wasn't fair. I was done.

After one terrible night, I had a cigar with a headliner I looked up to who had always supported me. He told me that being unique wasn't terrible, and that a lot of people who make it are a one and only. My headliner friend also informed me my act was different, and this was good. He pointed out that my best bet would be theatres, and that when people like Dimitri Martin discovered this they took off. Instead of being an oddball, suddenly I felt like perhaps I was in good company after all. A dream I had since the beginning of comedy echoed through my mind. I wasn't quitting standup. I was going to pound it harder than ever. I had a growing fan base and a bizarre skill, there was a market for me and I wasn't going to let people tell me otherwise.

For the next year, I made an effort to develop more of my puppets. The inspiration for the long set had been a DVD of Taylor Mason I saw as a teenager. He did a headliner set in a theatre with multiple puppets. While he is more of a Christian comedian, he was still incredible and I walked away knowing that was the way to go. Still, I was not sure how I could put them in my act. Yeah, I was on TV and all, but I just didn't want to be the proverbial blonde. I wanted to show people I was good at what I did, and cared about being funny.

The dream of being a headliner had gotten me through some of the darkest times in my life. It got me through a lot knowing that in my heart believing I was destined to do things with the weird little talking doll skill I had acquired. This past winter had been particularly brutal. Money was tight, and I was more broke than I had been in some time. There was a lot of uncertainty with my career. Familial drama was at an absolute high, and there were a lot of distressing events on that front. So I did what I always do when shit hits the fan, I threw myself into my work.

In the words of Winston Churchill, "The only way out of hell is to keep going."

So I made it my business to record a DVD and got an offer to headline a theatre. These were two big things I dreamed of doing since I started comedy. The DVD taping was a few weeks ago, and this weekend I headlined my first theatre. Night one the crowd was a little light but they were good. Night two the house was packed and the crowd was amazing. The energy was off the wall and fantastic. Both nights all of the comedians who proceeded me onstage were amazing. The level of professionalism was top notch as well. I was blessed, humbled, and gifted to enjoy such a wonderful weekend.

The thing I have to get used to is the nerves. I always am a jumbled set of nerves before I get onstage. It's the perfectionist in me coming out. As the emcee, you are the sacrificial lamb, and they either eat you up or eat you. As the middler, you are hoping the emcee isn't the sandman so you don't have the wake the crowd up, but also that they don't eat you alive too. Oh and sometimes they forget the middle man. Headliner though, you are the main event. So it can feel like forever before you get onstage. The nerves are like, "AHHHHHH!!!!"

But then as always when you get up there, everything is fine. And then when you hear the audience laugh at your first joke time flies cause you are having fun.

 Of course, after the show an audience member did recognize me from television. She confessed my voice and look were familiar, but when I pulled out May Wilson, it all came together. The whole thing was pretty funny. After all this hard work and effort, I am outshined by a damn puppet still. But the gift of this situation was that I got to be the main event at a packed house, got paid, and love comedy more than I have in some time. Thank goodness for my friend who not only talked me into soldiering on, but convinced me theatres were the way to go. As my hard work is starting to pay off, I am grateful I didn't quit five minutes before the miracle.

Now I am no longer the emcee or the middler, those days are gone. Now I am the main event, and the one everyone has come to see. Before I step onstage they announce my television credits, and everyone expects me to be good, and in my heart I know I earned this slot. I step onstage to deafening applause.

Yes, I am the headliner.

Yes, I will be here all week.

Next stop Carnegie Hall.

Shit, that's my alarm clock. One step at a time Ventriloquistdolly.

Love 

April

www.aprilbrucker.com

Buy my book I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

Check out my DVD Broke and Semi-Famous coming soon