By returning Edinburgh Fringe comedian Spencer Jones

Writer’s block. What a bastard. It can take many forms. There's the classic where a writer doesn't know what to write. Then there is the artist’s one where you are just staring at a blank page not knowing what to paint. There must be a sculptor one where you are looking at a block of marble, hammer and chisel in hand but you don't know where to strike first. I don't know about the sculptor one, I'm more of a papier-mache kind of guy. But I do know writer’s block is a bastard.

It can happen for all sorts of reasons. So breaking the block can be tricky. Back in 2015, when comedy was still in black and white and you had to put 50p in the meter to make it work, I had my first good Edinburgh festival. It was my third time north of the border, but somehow I had finally cracked it. Loads of good stuff followed and I was able to feed my kids. Result!

Fast forward 11 years (f**k!) and I'm doing my 7th hour (f**k!). From the outside looking in, I've been doing alright. But what they don't tell you is you've got to keep it up, keep it going, keep finding new stuff. People are going to copy you, so you need to find new stuff (that they can copy a couple of years later) to stay ahead of the game.

I don't know how other comedians come up with new material, but there was a big chunk of time after my last show about moving to Devon, when I wasn't coming up with anything. I was totally skint (not out of the woods yet) and I couldn't be arsed to sit in front of a mirror for three hours with a prop bought from Amazon that I couldn't afford, working out how to do ten funny things with it.

Also, I was moping about not seeing the joy and madness of the world around me. I couldn't see it.  (but then I went to see Rob Auton’s show and that got that side of things sorted out. Cheers Rob)

When I was going to my gigs I was doing all my tried-and-tested stuff. Safe. It all works, it's decent gear and I can make a room full of punters laugh, but it had turned into what felt just like a job. I know that’s what I am doing now, but I liked it when it felt like a hobby that had got out of hand. I needed to get back to that somehow.

Maybe I'm lucky that I have nothing to fall back on to. No other career, no rich family to bail me out, and no savings, so I am all in.

There's a scene in Rocky 3 where Apollo Creed tells Rocky that he's got too comfortable and that's why Mister T whooped his ass. All the old material was me getting comfortable, but I had nothing new. I was back to square one.

Then one morning before school, I cajoled my teenage son out of bed as a character I am calling 'OTT Middle Class Gentle Father Twat'. A ridiculous off-the-cuff creation, the complete opposite of how I was brought up. But very fun to do:

‘Come on darling, it's time to wake up, I'm so sorry to wake you up, but I do feel you should come down and have some breakfast. I can make you something. Would you like eggs or would you like Weetabix? Please don't feel pressured I just want you to have some sustenance before you go to school. Sorry to be such a nag’ etc, etc…

Even though he didn't want to get up, I could see a smile forming in the corners of his mouth so I carried on for the next 10 minutes. Forcing him every now smile through fringe and cornflakes. An audience of one. And along with his sister (woman child) they are my best and harshest critics. If I make them laugh, I am onto something. So I stayed in character for the rest of the morning, and it was during the dog walk, where I stumbled upon a phrase that became the catalyst for a new comedy bit. Sometimes a bit just happens.

Then at Glastonbury Festival, I watched a pissed geezer carrying some beers looking for his mates. It's one of the best pieces of silent comedy I'd seen in ages. He was amazing. On a plate, just for me, just waiting to be seen, picked up and taken on stage. Sometimes a bit just happens in front of you.

Another thing I'd forgotten to do, somehow was to make stuff at home; art, pictures, music, play heads, whatever. I don't know where these things lead, but if you start making stuff, sometimes a bit pops into your head.

I remember once messing around on the looper for four hours getting absolutely nothing interesting and then I accidentally said out loud: 'DO YOU REMEMBER MY MUM?'. Sometimes a bit falls from the sky.

So I started making masks out of different things just to pass the time. I've made them before for shows, but these ones are a bit better, almost professional! I added on to the pissed Glastonbury geezer and audiences really like him. Sometimes two things at the same time is funnier

They say write what you know. They also say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. My lemons are all the things around me. That’s all I've got right now. That’s all I know currently. Pooches, pints, papier-mâché and props. Will it make the world a better place? I doubt it, but for an hour, a brand new hour. I'll give it a go.

I get to make people laugh. And that’s the best job in the world.

• Spencer Jones: Dogs will be at the Pleasance Dome at 8.15pm during the Edinburgh Fringe.

Published: 3 Aug 2026