answer:Oh God, this is the hardest thing: learning that you can never be someone else. You can only be yourself. All you can do is borrow techniques, or maybe even lines from someone else, but mostly, you have to, no matter how much you may want to take shortcuts, be yourself. You have to let yourself fail. Without failure, you’ll never learn. It helps to have a thick skin when you are busy failing right and left. You just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and run off to Disneyland. No. Wait. That’s not how it goes, is it? So I have this idea that you should love failure. Not because you want to fail, but because it is your best teacher. Every time you get booed off the stage or the room is silent, love it. Hell, you could tell the audience you love it. Give them my schtick. Silence? Oh boy, you say. I just looooooove failure. I’m flat as piecrust here, and not nearly as tasty. But see, this jelly on ask-public (and stop to explain that if necessary) told me I should love failure and here I am, and you guys are giving all the love in the world. I could kiss you all! Or something. It’s not my job to write material, although all the night show guys have writers. But you see what I mean? How you can pretend this is what you want—because it actually is what you want? And then you lighten up, and get funny. You learn from your successes, too, so long as you understand them. But you knew that. I’m just talking about how you can love failure and that’s how you will develop your own voice.