Does this sound familiar? You have just finished a class or an improv show, and before you can even enjoy what you've done, a panicked thought sets in: “What I am going to next?”

I see this a lot, especially with students who finish taking my Advanced Art of Slow Comedy improv class. After studying with me for three terms and putting up a great long from show for their friends and family they will pull me aside and ask me, “What should I do next? Should I go to Second City? Should I go to iO? Should I go to The Annoyance? There are some people from this class who want to form a team; should I do that?”

This last part is the best part of their answer, and I tell them that.

"Yes, but my agent said it would be good to get Second City on my resume, and at IO I can get stage time and I want to go to The Annoyance because I heard I should study with Mick.”

All true, but what about staying with the people from class and doing a show? They have asked you to be part of it.

"Yes, but I want to be on Saturday Night Live."

That’s great. I get that I was too subtle. You want my answer?

"Yes, that is why I am asking you."

Here is my philosophy: Do what is right in front of you. Don't over complicate it. If you had a great time with the class and they want you to form a group and have invited you to do a show, say yes. Because that is the next right thing to do. If you are an improviser and you live in Chicago for at least 18 months there is a 90 percent chance you are going to end up taking classes at iO, Second City, and The Annoyance, probably at the same time.

So many times, we think that to get ahead, we have to be striving, taking a huge leap to something that is “big time.” But often, all we need to do to get ahead is say yes to what is right in front of us.

I am still learning this lesson. I cannot tell you how many opportunities I have turned down over the years that were right in front of me that I still regret not taking. I was, and still am, the worst kind of liar and that is I lie myself. And when an opportunity would present itself I would make some bullshit up in my head like “How is that going to get me hired?” or “I am a performer, not a writer,” or “I don't really want that.” So I walked away from opportunities that were literally right in front of me.

Back in the early '90s, I was performing with the Comedy Underground, and the whole cast was hired to write for a late night talk show on NBC that was being filmed out of Chicago. Since it was such a big cast, we would have had to rotate days we worked. I turned it down. The reason? I was an artist and I wasn’t going to sell out to write for a show.

Another time I had an audition for SNL. They were flying me out to New York, and I had my plane ticket in my hand, but I decided not to go because I was scared and I told myself “I don't want to do sketch.”

Ever since I was a teenager, I had wanted to get hired by Second City and be on the Mainstage. The closet thing I got to working there was teaching in the training center and working at the business theater. I was well liked at the business theater and Scott Allman took me under his wing and told me he would try to talk to Kelly Leonard to get me on the touring company. Pride, fear and lies got in my way and I said I wasn’t interested.

On the reverse side, some of the best things I was ever part of just fell in my lap and I was lucky enough to get out of my own way to say yes. Naked with Stephanie Weir, Jazz Freddy, being in the original cast of Armando at iO and godshow were all things that I was asked to be part of and they were all high points for me creatively. Those opportunities fell out of the sky.

I know that "yes, and..." is an easy improv concept to embrace in theory, but in practice, when it comes to our careers, we tend to want to pick the “right” thing that is going to get us ahead. But the universe doesn’t work like that. There is no way to perfectly plan your career. There is no straight line from point A to point B. What we have to do is let go of outcomes and trust that saying yes will get us exactly where we need to go.

Chris Redd is a comedy triple threat: a hilarious stand-up, a great improviser, and a former member of Second City’s e.t.c. cast. In this episode, he talks with Jimmy about the difference between preforming on the Southside and the Northside of Chicago, how comedy taught him to dig deep into himself, and how he changed from almost running with a gang to getting involved in comedy.

If you’re an improviser, you have probably thought about quitting hundreds of times. And that questioning probably won't stop any time soon.

As fun as improv is, it can be pretty shitty at times. You are dealing with egos, jealousy and lots of disappointment. You are reliving high school. And some of us would rather quit and avoid the pain.

I have always been an instant gratification kind of guy -- the least amount of work for the biggest result. I thought if you are talented, that’s how it’s supposed to go. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way in the arts or in life. Get used to it.

Over the last three years of doing Improv Nerd, I’ve wanted to quit many times. It is safe to say I have had that thought on a regular basis.

On so many different levels, Improv Nerd has been the best thing for me. It has made me a great interviewer and an even better improviser. I have met people that I would never have crossed paths with before from around the world. I have gotten to travel and had to reluctantly become a leader. But despite my successes, I get discouraged frequently – every time we have a small audience or a so-called "bad show" or experience some technical problems. It does not take much for me to want to call it quits.

Frankly, I’ve had thoughts about quitting almost as long as I’ve been improvising. The only difference today is that the feeling of wanting to quit doesn't last as long as it used to. I bounce back quicker.  It can be a matter of hours, when it used to be days or weeks. I am also aware that sometimes the closer you are to reaching your vision, the louder the negative voices in your head become. The ones that scream things like "What are you doing with your life?" and "Why don't you quit?"

I know if I had listened to the negative voices in my head, I would have stopped doing Improv Nerd and writing this blog months ago. If you have similar voices in your head that are telling you to quit the show or class you are in, or quit improv entirely, talk to someone before you do it, because these are the kind of thoughts that aren't good if you keep them to yourself.

I have actor friends in L.A. who call me up ready to quit acting because they are tired of being broke and not being able to pay the rent. When I talk to them again a week later, they've booked six weeks on a movie or gotten some enormous residual check in the mail they weren't expecting. After wanting to quit for 24 hours, they bounce back, forgetting about the conversation we had a week ago, until I remind them. I am always grateful that I get to talk to them on their darkest days. It gives me hope.

There is this incredible hokey saying, "Don't quit before the miracle," which really applies to everything, especially improv. In improv you never know the day, time, or year when you’re going to get good at it.

It happens slowly. And you'll never know where it will lead you.

Like good improv, your dream or vision may morph into something completely different. Something even better than you imagined. That is what it’s supposed to do. And if you quit too soon, you will never give yourself the opportunity to know where it could have taken you. You will end up miserable for the rest of your life and you will criticize others who are doing what you like doing. You will be so bitter that nobody will want to be around you, and the worst part is you will not even know why you are this way.

So if you’ve been wanting to quit lately, here’s my advice for you: Keep persevering, keep showing up, be ready to play, and expect a miracle.

Tim Paul is an actor, writer, and director living in Chicago. He’s created numerous shows along with The Annoyance Theatre including “Bear Force One,” “An Aerosmith Christmas,” “Fisting: A Period Piece” and more recently his solo shows. He sat down to chat with Jimmy about using life experience in his writing and performing and why he’d never let his parents see one of his shows.

Last week I went to Worcester, Mass., to teach improv at Claremont Academy, a high school made up of a diverse population of teenage kids. Not only are you dealing with different races and cultures, you are also dealing with adolescents.

For an improviser, this was not a glamorous gig. It was not writing for Colbert or being cast on SNL. This was missionary work. I have taught improv to teens before, and I’ve seen how it can work magic on their self-confidence. I am not exaggerating when I say you are saving lives.

Just ask Danny Balel, who is an excellent improv teacher and heads up the program at Claremont. When he was in high school, he was getting high and had no direction. Then in ninth grade he was kicked out of school for concealing a weapon. When he transferred to a new high school, improv and theater saved his life.

Improv was not available when I was growing up. If it had been, I can only guess how my life might have been different.

I was thinking a lot about my own experience in high school when I walked in to teach the freshman class, which consisted of 18 rowdy students, right before lunch. We were in an area of the school that was more hallway than classroom, where people could pass through. You needed to be conscious of the sound, since there were no doors.

Freshman year is hard, as you awkwardly make the transition from eighth grade to high school. And I was working with them at the start of the year, when there is still a lot of turbulence before they make a smooth landing.

As the class settled down, they wanted to know about me before we started. It was hard to tell if they were curious or just stalling.

One girl with thick black glasses sitting in the first row asked me if I was professional.

"Yes, I am," I said somewhat confidently, which surprised me.

Then a girl with an oversized gray sweatshirt and braces asked: “Why did you get into it?”

I wanted to relate to them. So, I said "I was neglected growing up and came from a family where we weren't allowed to express ourselves. I took improv so I could express myself."

I am sure it went completely over their heads.

As we worked through the morning, it was clear that this class had a hard time suspending judgment of one another, which is necessary to do improv. It became obvious during a scene when a tall, goofy guy made a wonderful initiation to dance with the girl with the braces. She refused to dance with him.

I stopped the scene. “Why did you say no to his initiation?” I asked.

“Because he's weird," she said.

I looked at the goofy kid, who reminded me of myself, and I felt speechless and sad. Then suddenly I said, “I am weird, too. No one is more weird than me."

The goofy kid's face lit up and he got all excited and he gave me a high five. My guess is that he had never been validated for his wonderful imagination. Then I found my footing and asked someone to tag her out and support the dancing initiation, and a guy came out and they danced together, which is a very brave thing to do in the self-conscious world called high school.

That day, I realized how much improvisers really are weirdos. We get up in front of complete strangers not knowing what we are going to say, and purposely make ourselves look foolish on stage. Who does that?

But the quicker we can embrace our weirdness, the better we will become. By embracing our weirdness, we embrace our own brilliance.

Cameron Esposito is a rising star stand-up comic who started out in Chicago and is now the host of the podcast Put Your Hands Together on Feral Audio (home of Improv Nerd!), and the author of the A.V. Club column “Who In the World Is Carmeron Esposito?” In this episode, she takes a break from her busy touring schedule promoting her second comedy album, “Same Sex Symbol,” to chat with Jimmy about engaging with hecklers, the influence of a religious upbringing, comedy’s role in her coming out story, and how five years of professional improv impacted her stand-up. Enjoy!

In this episode, which was recorded at the Improv Festival Oklahoma, Jimmy sits down with Tim Marks who runs The KC Improv Company and The Kick Comedy Theater and heads up the Kansas City Improv Festival. Tim talks about some of the personality issues you have to deal with running an improv theater, losing improvisers to bigger markets, and playing politically incorrect characters. If you are improvising in a smaller market or you are running an improv theater, you are going to love this episode.

What we do is pretty amazing. We get up in front of people and make shit up. And regardless if we suck or not that night, we are brave for just getting up there. And we need to give ourselves credit for that fact alone. I know a lot of you are refusing to give yourself kudos for your shows because you’re telling yourself you are not as good as TJ and Dave, so I am going to give them to you right now: "You are great. You are courageous. You are talented."

Now if your head is going, "Jimmy doesn’t know me. He is full of shit. How does he know if I am talented or not? This blog sucks. Jimmy sucks," welcome to the club. This is the negative talk in your head, and it has nothing to do with me or my lousy blog. It has to do with you. Are you willing to be gentle on yourself until you get the place where you think you are good at this? Are you willing to give yourself props regardless what level you are at for trying one of the scariest art forms out there?

My guess is, if you are like me, probably not. You are more interested in beating yourself up after a bad show or comparing yourself to others. Great, I get it. Believe me I don't want to ruin your pity party, but here is another way to look at it.

Improvising in front of an audience is a very vulnerable experience. As soon as we step on stage, we have come out of hiding. We are getting bigger. We are willing to be seen. All this is terrifying. And regardless if we have a killer show or we bomb miserably, we will have feelings. Intense feelings that will overpower us. We tell ourselves we should have certain feelings based on how we did on stage or in class. Good Show = Happy. Bad Show = Suicidal Thoughts. That is bullshit. I've had great shows and felt awful and had awful shows and felt great.

And here is the best part, are you ready? Most of the time I can't tell you if I had a good show or not because my perception is all screwed up.

This is especially true for beginners, because you have no reference point for what a good or bad show feels like. And while some people may be able to do their first show and feel great, it make take other people many, many shows before they can feel comfortable afterwards.

I still lose my perspective on what is a good or bad show. Last summer, I sat in with my old team, Carl and The Passions, at IO-Chicago. This is a team filled with some of the best improvisers in the country. I felt rusty. I felt in my head until about three-quarters of the way through the Harold. I got off stage and was filled with shame and convinced myself I sucked. That night, I put myself to sleep with those thoughts and woke up thinking I was the biggest piece of shit in improv. A couple of days later I ran into to Dina Facklis, whose team, Virgin Daiquiris, had shared the bill with us that night, and she said "Are you going to come back and play with Carl because my friend said you where her favorite."

I had not even thought about that. I was too busy thinking of ways of how I could kill myself. I was also grateful that she said that, because I had lost any perception of my work. It reminded me that I am better than I give myself credit for, and I am still way too hard on myself.  And that those affirmations that I so generously gave to you also apply to me: "I am great. I am courageous. I am talented."

This September, Improv Nerd turned three years old. At this point, we have recorded 106 episodes. Over the past three years, I have gotten to improvise with and interview some of the greatest comedy minds out there today. And lately, I’ve been traveling across the country, bringing the show to different theaters and improv festivals.

In honor of our three-year anniversary, I wanted to share my top 5 favorite moments over the last three years. They are in no particular order, but they are the things that have had a lasting impact on me. What has been your favorite moment from the show so far? Let us know in the comments.

  1. Interviewing George Wendt
    As a fat, insecure 19-year-old kid from the suburbs, I would drive my parents Buick station wagon into the city of Chicago to take improv classes at The Players Workshop of The Second City. On the wall was grainy head shot of a young George Wendt. At the time, Cheers was on NBC and was quickly becoming must see TV. I related to the lovable loser of Norm Peterson and to the actor who played him, George Wendt, who started out at The Player Workshop before making it to Main Stage at Second City.I wanted to be a character like Norm on a sitcom like Cheers and have a career like George’s. He was an inspiration, something I aspired to be. When he agreed to be on Improv Nerd Live in Chicago more than 30 years later, over Facebook, I was so excited and scared. The show was incredible. Apparently I wasn't the only one who loved George Wendt, because the place was packed. That night, it seemed everything had come full circle. Listen >
  1. Meeting Key and Peele
    It’s always cool to get a guest right when they are about to blow up. We interviewed Key and Peele in a conference room at Second City. Everyone in the improv community knew how great the show was on Comedy Central and it would be just a matter of time before it would become a huge hit. During our interview, we talked about a lot of things: the show, the critics, adjusting to being in charge, being biracial. It is probably one of the most passionate conversations I have had over the last three years. I remember when I was done, I was exhausted and thought I had offended them, especially Keegan. Months later at the Detroit Improv Festival, Keegan was my guest again, and he assured me everything was OK between the two of us. As someone who suffers from chronic jealousy, I am proud to say that I could not be happier for their success, and having the chance to interview them was a dream come true. Listen >
  1. Getting Picked Up in a Lincoln Town Car
    One of my dreams has been to have my own talk show on TV where I get to interview people in depth, like Charlie Rose. I envision myself living in a big house and being picked up in a Lincoln Town car to be driven to the studio.Although I haven’t scored a TV deal yet out of doing this podcast, I have had experiences where I felt like a big deal. One of the best was when I got to interview Horatio Sanz, who I always thought Horatio was one of the funniest people I knew when I was starting out in Chicago. What made it even sweeter was that the interview was held at my alma mater, Columbia College in Chicago. The day of the interview, Columbia sent a Lincoln Town car over to my house and picked up me and Lauren, and we did the show in packed auditorium. Afterwards there was a reception, and I got my picture taken with the president of the college. I felt like a star. Listen > 
  2. Performing with the Improvised Shakespeare Company
    These guys are great, and I highly recommend anyone to see their show. I was so excited to have Joey Bland and Ross Bryant on as our guests to represent the group, even though I was terrified to improvise in the style of Shakespeare. I had never even read a Shakespeare play before, so a few days before the show, tried reading Shakespeare out loud to my wife, and I had no idea what any of it meant.Before the show, I told Joey and Ross how scared I was, and they said don't worry. They did not lie. In fact, they really took care of me and it turned out to be a lot of fun. During one of scenes I uttered the phrase "oil of my loins," where that came from I have no clue, but the audience loved it. And when I heard everyone laughing, I realized I had survived something I thought was going to kill me. Listen > 
  3. Intern enters the scene during the Amanda Blake Davis episode
    This was the strangest thing that I think has ever happened to us. One of our interns, who had Amanda as a teacher at Second City, decided during the improv scene with me and Amanda, that he was going to do a walk on. Which he did. To say I was surprised is understatement. Traumatic is the best way to describe it. I had no idea how to handle it or why it had happened. But afterwards, this event became a learning experience for me, because I realized that I hadn’t really been taking ownership of the show. I had never set ground rules for the interns, and believe it or not, I was supposed to be the leader, even though I had little experience in being one. This episode woke me up out of my sleep and made me realize people were looking to me to lead them. Listen >

Let us know what your favorite moment of the show has been so far!

Jay Sukow, a fixture in the Chicago improv scene, has been improvising since 1992. He’s a wonderful teacher, director and faculty member at Second City, a co-founder of the production company Group Mind Films, and has been a guest performer at Boom Chicago, the Second City, and “Messing with a Friend.” He spoke with Jimmy about their early days together in Chicago improv, how he got through the depression of his late 20s, his favorite parts of teaching, and why short-form shouldn’t get the short end of the stick