Poet? Comedian? I’m more than my Tinder bio. Yes, we exist.

First a poet, now a comedian. Sorcha Doyle tells BND why she switched mediums.

What do you do? When asked this dreaded question my response is as feverish as any 23 year old living at home. Hell if I know! All I can tell you is who I am has been bursting out of me since I stood on a stage for the first time. My story - much the same. The mode however, changing.

Some might say we can’t rewrite our history. One of the most humbling experiences of growing up was framing my own story as a lucrative business opportunity. An entrepreneur of trauma. I cannot rewrite my experiences but I can sure turn them over and sell them twice the price. When you sell who you are, you open yourself up to criticism. As a performer, you are held to a higher calibre so when identifying your shortcomings, you can choose to cry about it or you can change and re-sell yourself. I re-sold myself.

When branching from poetry to comedy I felt like I was betraying an identity I had branded for myself. I had dedicated years to becoming a spoken-word artist, wrote and self-published a book, sat as president of a literary society. Was I really just going to stop? My understanding of poetry was that I wanted to send a message. Yes, I wanted to tell my story; I needed to tell my story but it was always the vehicle for the message.

This pursuit is central to who I am as a person, but I found myself revisiting these traumatic events so much that the weight of the experience lifted. For non-artist types, this is called coping and moving on. For many artists, this is death. I think I was depressed that I wasn’t depressed.

For the first time in a while, I didn’t really have anything to say. I've always been of the mind that If your voice isn’t adding anything to the conversation, need you speak? I don’t care much to attribute any of my poetic musings to a chemical imbalance in my brain, but for the sake of humour and my ego, let us just simplify it to those terms.

“I cannot rewrite my experiences but I can sure turn them over and sell them twice the price.”

Comedy for me has always been a coping mechanism. Surprise! Initially I felt weird about this transition from poet to comedian. What did it mean? Was I too depressed? Was my material too personal? Would anyone find me funny? I found that even in comedy, my morose outlook on life lent itself quite nicely. In fact, I have worked with poets for years and I had never met a more fabulous group of depressed idiots than I did in comedy circles! This is not to say that all depressed people are comedians but rather that all comedians are depressed.

“…all I have ever wanted to do is tell my story but I always wanted to do it well and with significance”

For the first time in a while, I had something new to say. As a woman and as a former poet I had a unique perspective to bring to comedy. At the end of the day, all I have ever wanted to do is tell my story but I always wanted to do it well and with significance. Comedy gave me that opportunity. Even in the mundane, comedy allows me to observe and share my inner dialogue in a fun way.

The last thing I want to do is persuade anyone which is a more valid art-form. Poetry and comedy are both fabulous modes of self-expression. I will always at heart be a poet and a comedian. Ultimately, this is my experience of the two. I was feeling lost in my medium and I found myself in another. When it comes to art and what I do, maybe formal titles such as “poet/comedian” are better left to my tinder bio.

“I was feeling lost in my medium and I found myself in another.”

In an improv class I heard someone say comedy is about thinking laterally. Where poetry is raw and honest, a comedian will never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Where poetry is refined and beautiful, comedy is nasty and perverse. In both, we find connection, the human experience and detailed discussion about vaginas.

Originally published in BND Magazine Vol. 1 Issue 1.

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