Bombing is the most feared verb to a comic. And with good reason. It's an experience that lives up to its hype. You could describe it as dire, disastrous, disturbing, harrowing, hideous, horrendous, horrid, horrifying, unnerving, unpleasant and unwelcome and still fall 73 adjectives shy of properly describing the pain of standing on stage before absolute silence. Yet, it's inevitable. Every comic bombs at some point when starting out. Jerry Seinfeld bombed. Jim Carrey bombed. George Carlin bombed. It's part of the comedy process. And it's not until later, when you gain more experience, that you'll look back and realize that bombing teaches you more than succeeding. Many factors can contribute to bombing. Some are out of your control (poor sound system, uncontrollable drunks in the audience, wrong crowd for your act), but for the most part the cause is you. You will feel the onset immediately. After your first few jokes generate zero reaction cotton mouth will set in. You may even find yourself involuntarily speeding up your delivery.

Your focus will then become distracted. Instead of being in the moment, you're looking at the lady in the second row with the cold, apathetic stare, as she poisons you with her negative venom. The joke rolodex in your brain begins spinning like a pinwheel in a wind storm, as you desperately try to find jokes you think will work. This causes stammering and awkward pauses. The crowd senses your nervousness and become as nervous as you. You know you're bombing but are helpless to stop it. Tension builds. Because you're getting paid you can't leave the stage, prolonging your agony. Murmuring ripples through the crowd. Though you can't see the venue owner, you can feel the weight of his or her stare weighing on you like a Subaru station wagon. Murmuring evolves into full blown conversation. You've lost the crowd. Finally, your time is up. You limp off the stage to a small smattering of applause.

As you hide in the back assessing the damage to your psyche, you endure another crippling blow upon hearing the comic that followed killing on stage. As the saying goes, "It's not the situation, but how you respond to it that makes the difference." If you can't imagine enduring such freefalling embarrassment a second time, interpret it as a sign that maybe you're not cut out to be a comedian. Because like https://essayfreelancewriters.com/blog/difference-between-begin-began-and-begun/ or not, bombing will happen again. On the other hand, if you're still determined and eager to forge ahead, use the situation to learn. Accept it as a bump in the proverbial road that was painful but not life threatening. Try to reassess where the unraveling began. Did you exude confidence entering the stage, or were you tentative and unsure? Was your opening material too offensive? Or was it too quirky? This is where the importance of taping each show becomes apparent. With a tape you can easily go back and try to identify when the fall began. This article has been generated by Essay Freelance Writersversion!

Don't let on that you're bombing. The more nervous you become, the more nervous the crowd becomes watching you. As difficult as it is to mask you're inner screaming, try to commit to your act. Show confidence. You won't earn more laughs, but you will win the crowd's respect. If you came on stage and immediately went into the crowd asking questions and did not receive the laughter you expected, pull back. It's a sign the crowd could be tentative; they want to listen, not participate. Revert to a more conservative approach, delivering your material in a more traditional manner, in the true form of a true monologist. Or you may have to juxtaposition the situation just described. Sometimes when the monologue approach is not working, you may have to try going into the crowd and work off their reactions. This way you get the audience more involved. This tact generally works best with smaller crowds. Think twice before trying this on a large crowd.