Hannah Platt and Amy Mason: Letter to a Debut Comedian

Dear Hannah, 

At the last work in progress you did when writing this, someone called the show ‘a bit northern’ (it isn’t, you’re northern and they’re a prick). I’m only reminding you of this to say, some people are stupid. And stupid people like the sound of their own voice, so you’re more likely to hear them.

Not everyone will like your show at the Fringe, because you don’t want everyone to like it. Some people like camping and onions, and they’re wrong. If everyone liked it, it would be bland, inoffensive, and more importantly, no one would LOVE it. The shows you’ve seen, that you’ve been obsessed with, have felt like they spoke directly to you. They felt like they captured something unique and had a point of view – by definition, not everyone can like that. There are people who will see that Rolling Stone cover with Kristen Stewart and remain attracted to men regardless. Yeah, some people will hate it.

Some people will project what they think of northerners, women, queerness and mental illness onto you, and that’s their issue. You’ve made this show for you – the big deal was to do it in the first place, and to put it out there – there are people who are too scared to do that, and let’s be honest, you’ve been one of them for ages. You’ve made the show now, and how it’s received is not your business. Art is subjective, and you’re at an arts festival, so your show’s art, alright?

Don’t be daft, have a two drink maximum, go swimming, see your real friends, eat hot pot from that place near the Meadows, and focus on how fun it is to do a show every day. Every day! The amount of shite jobs you’ve done and you get to do your favourite thing every day. Enjoy it, you miserable prick. 

Xoxo,

Hannah

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Dear Amy, 

You’re about to take your first comedy hour to Edinburgh Fringe, and you’re a blob of excitement and nerves. Getting to this point hasn’t been easy, financially, emotionally, or creatively and you should be proud. Now try not to get off with someone in the first week and make things weird all month.

Ignore the pressure to sell out your shows and get great reviews. Instead, make goals you can control: try a new shampoo! Eat at least one great sandwich! Splash out on a new pair of socks!

You have wrestled with this show (my God, have you), its focus shifting, until it’s become something that feels as much like the truth as anything can be, while still being funny. Perhaps debuting at 42 made things harder in some ways; you have lived so much life! So much of it ridiculous! Where to begin? You’ve settled on dissecting the past few years since coming out as queer and separating from your husband. It feels like, in some ways, telling this story again and again might even be healing (future Amy laughs a bitter, hollow laugh at her naïvety here).

Eleven years ago you took a piece of theatre to the Fringe. It was a show you remain immensely proud of, but you were totally unprepared for the relentless, exhausting work that is a full run. Now, you are older, way more tired, and much less likely to stay out all night and lose your mind.

You don’t know what the next month will bring. Try to stay focused on the work, the audience, and keep your head. Ignore the chatter and the twats, hang out with mates, eat loads of crisps, laugh. It’ll be over before you know it.

Amy xx

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Hannah Platt: Defence Mechanism, Pleasance Courtyard (Bunker Two), 31 Jul -25 Aug, 8.10pm, £7-12
@hannahtheplatt across all socials

Amy Mason: Free Mason, Pleasance Courtyard (Cellar), 31 Jul-26 Aug (not 12), 8pm, £9-12
@amymasoncomedy across all socials