What happens when you get to the Fringe to perform and one vital item does not turn up…as in the flyers! Well comedian Louise Leigh had this happen to her this year and today we let her take over the reigns of writing to talk about it and why it is such a big issue when you have a show to promote!

If you know me even vaguely and we’ve stopped for a chat around Edinburgh, you’ll know that my flyers didn’t turn up. I told everyone A LOT (like I did when I was going to get a kitten – everyone knew about that, let me tell you).  

I had perfectly planned my first day in Edinburgh. Unpack, pick up posters and flyers, attend press launch, flyer, bed, breakfast, flyer, show. Perfect.

My day fell at the second hurdle. The posters are where they’re meant to be; the flyers aren’t. Plan ruined. But I’m not alone; friends’ flyers also haven’t been delivered. I’m irritated that my carefully-calibrated timetable has been thrown off, but never mind, there are lots of us in the same boat. It’s bound to be resolved.

In the following few days, most people’s flyers turn up but mine don’t. The venue are dealing with bigger fish (power cuts, etc.) and I feel like I’m the only one in the boat, madly trying to row with only one oar. Still no flyers, and now I have to arrange to spend another 50 quid getting 500 flyers from Edinburgh Copy Shop, and then another 60 quid getting another batch of 5000 shipped in from elsewhere. 

The thing that astonishes me is the amount of emotional energy it takes out of me. It obsesses me. I want to market my show but… no flyers;  I want to work on my show, but… no flyers; I want to induct a flyerer but… no flyers; every day before I start trying to drum up an audience, I have to go and check two locations for… no flyers. Like they say, it’s the hope that kills you. 

“Flyering works. It’s a way to connect with people in a really rich and useful way but also in lighter, simpler, less energy-consuming ways that make you feel powerful even if they’re not hugely effective...”

When you’re marketing a Fringe show, you have to chuck a lot of stuff at a lot of walls, to see what sticks. Look, you can do a degree in marketing, but I’m pretty sure that’s the main content. This year I’m luckily in a position to be able to chuck stuff at plenty of walls, but not having my flyers for the first few days massively knocked my legs out from under me.

I still don’t know whether flyers actually are effective but they feel effective. Not having them taught me these 5 lessons about how to make the most of a Fringe crisis. 

1. The Pitch Matters. With no flyers, I had no choice. I had to pitch to strangers armed with only my poster. Hitting the infamous Royal Mile with only a couple of posters in my hands rather than a wad of flyers felt like a mountain to climb.  Everybody who I actively engaged with while pitching with my poster felt like a sale and they promised they would come if they could get themselves organised and timetable it. But without my flyer thrust into their sticky hand they can’t repair to a cafe, pore over their pile of options and make choices. I had badges, which I intended to hand out to people who’d been to the show. Suddenly I’m handing them out to people who *might* come. Expensive, and no guarantee it will mean anything to people an hour after the chat. 
   
2. Use the resources you have to the best of your ability. Yes, I was handing out my posters (of which I had too many) as Giant Flyers, yes I was using my badges, socials etc. But actually, I should have got my flyerer to put my posters up all over town in the hour I paid him to stand outside the show holding my poster. It was still a good idea to glue some posters to card and stand around with them, though, and to make a wearable garment of more posters and card. 
   
3. Fix the problem fast. Don’t wait around for a solution to magically appear. I spent too many days in flyer-less hope when I should have just reordered immediately. I didn’t want to waste money or the paper, but those first few days really set a negative tone at the beginning of the run that was unnecessary. 
   
4. Mates are amazing. My friends and co-comedians have been incredibly supportive, bigging me up, giving me hugs, listening to me wang on, coming to the show. 
   
5. Flyering works. It’s a way to connect with people in a really rich and useful way but also in lighter, simpler, less energy-consuming ways that make you feel powerful even if they’re not hugely effective. You’re getting your show out there without using too much of your voice, your energy. Pitching uses the thing that you need to make the show: it’s a performance. Asking people to pop out their phones, take pictures of your poster, really put some commitment in, means you have to sell yourself so much harder. While that might mean more worthwhile sales, it also might mean someone’s too nice to not just take a flyer and move on.

“I want to market my show but… no flyers;  I want to work on my show, but… no flyers; I want to induct a flyerer but… no flyers; every day before I start trying to drum up an audience, I have to go and check two locations for… no flyers. Like they say, it’s the hope that kills you. “

In the end, the shipment of 5000 flyers is lost to the void. I’ll be getting a refund for those, and the venue have been supportive, although fruitlessly. 

Now, at least I have my flyers I can concentrate more energy on my audiences day after day after this delayed start. It’s not been the best start to my Fringe but it started, whether my flyers were ready or not. Now that I do have them, I feel the picture is complete. I’m starting to get some nice crowds and they’re universally lovely. I’m so pleased with my show and really proud to sell it to people on the Royal Mile and beyond with the pitch “It’s a love letter to my 18 year old self, my 18 year old kids and some jokes about bums”. 

Come along to see ‘Louise Leigh Distracted’ at Just the Tonic, Cabaret Voltaire The Common Room at 3.30pm throughout August (except Mondays)!