flâneur

Encore Anxiety - by Anu Atluru - Working Theorys

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There’s a special kind of hell for anyone who has tasted appreciation for their work, especially in public. It’s not the obvious torment of abject failure. That’s too straightforward, too clean. Rather, it’s the exquisite agony of knowing people are waiting for you to be brilliant again, and you’re not entirely sure how you pulled it off the first time. I’ve come to think of this, affectionately, as encore anxiety. The first time I tried stand-up comedy, I was strategic about it. I picked an open mic night at a club I didn’t belong to in a neighborhood I’d never visit — no chance of running into anyone from my real life. I was nervous about making a fool of myself, yet there was a lightness in knowing I could fail anonymously. My set lasted three minutes. My closer landed a loud groan that devolved into laughter as the audience connected the dots. To my surprise, I did well. By the second time, I was plugged into the local comedy circuit, knew some regulars, had even made a friend. My

There’s a special kind of hell for anyone who has tasted appreciation for their work, especially in public. It’s not the obvious torment of abject failure. That’s too straightforward, too clean. Rather, it’s the exquisite agony of knowing people are waiting for you to be brilliant again and you’re not entirely sure how you pulled it off the first time. I’ve come to think of this, affectionately, as encore anxiety. Note: One of the reasons I wanted to write this essay is that the very concept of encore anxiety requires you to acknowledge that you’ve done something interesting or successful…

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