LIZ BENTLEY
Day job: counselling therapist
Night life: swimming pool performer

I'm addicted to the adrenaline of performing and I love the anticipation. For me, it's about the personal journey, which is quite a strong parallel with therapy: when you see a patient, you don't know where you're going or where you'll be by the end of the therapy. It's the same with this show. I'm 44, and have been working as a counselling therapist for 17 years. When I was younger, I really struggled with relationships. I had bulimia from age 16 and I had drug issues. Aged 23, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I knew that I also needed help for myself and was in therapy with a psychoanalytic psychotherapist for seven years.

Having volunteered with The Samaritans, I began to do counselling training, working with women who were considering abortion. Nowadays, my counselling work is conducted in a GP surgery. Patients who are depressed or have other issues can be referred to me. You're either a good therapist or you're not: there's no secret to it.

There was always an element of me that was an exhibitionist. I'd written a book that wasn't getting published and an agent said it would work better as short stories. I wrote the stories, took them to an open mic night, and it started from there. My performances have gone from strength to strength over the past five years.

My show's a bit bizarre. I actually had another show in mind, but when I was told there was a swimming pool available as a venue, it sounded like fun. I'll be doing a solo show in the pool and also a collaborative water show with other performers. I'm not quite sure how it's going to be yet, but my solo show will involve my Casio keyboard and my ukelele.

I started swimming at a young age because I was born with a hole in my heart. When I was about five, the doctors at Great Ormond Street recommended I swim to keep my strength up. I got quite good at it, eventually swimming for Southend-on-Sea, where I was brought up.

Liz Bentley-On-Sea is at Grassmarket Swimming Pool, Apex International Hotel, August 3-24, 0870 241 0136.

ANNA VICTORIA
Day job: waitress
Night life: writer/actress

I waitress full time at a private members club in Soho. The members have generally been there for years and in some ways I feel like I've grown up with them. I'm 25 and graduated from the Royal Welsh College Of Music And Drama about four years ago. I slipped through the net after graduating, I suppose, and didn't get any acting work. In January 2007, a friend encouraged me to put on a little show at the Cockpit Theatre in London to see if I could still act. I wrote a 15-minute piece and that was the beginning of my show I Kissed A Frog And It Gave Me Herpes, which I took to the Fringe last year and will be returning with this year. I would describe the show as old-fashioned storytelling with a modern twist.

I need to be highly organised. Obviously the nature of waitressing is that you can do 45 to 50 hours a week if you want, but I can change my shifts when I'm auditioning or writing plays or performing. Last year, I explained to my manager what I wanted to do and she's been fully behind me; she sorts out my hours and does me a lot of favours. I have to compartmentalise my life but that's the only way I would be able to do everything.

I'd love to do Shakespearean theatre. I love acting so much, I'd work 24 hours a day if I could. The good thing about the Free Fringe is that you can do a whip-round with the audience at the end and the money's yours - you don't pay a fee to anyone else. We even came out with a tiny bit of spending money last year, which I think is quite rare.

In the past when someone asked what I did, I'd say "waitress". Since performing at Edinburgh last year, I've started to say that I'm an actress.

I Kissed A Frog And It Gave Me Herpes is at Espionage, 4 India Buildings, Victoria Street (free/non-ticketed), August 4-25, 0131 477 7007.

JO WENDROWSKA
Day job: Edinburgh landlady
Night life: Ruby Summers - seductive chanteuse

I've dabbled in performing since my teens but I'm actually the shy, quiet type. I must be one of those introverted extroverts. I lose my confidence very easily. I studied drama at Telford College a number of years ago and that gave me a bit of belief. Right now, I'm a landlady in a dilapidated Victorian house in Edinburgh. It's not something I ever planned to do - I bought the place when most actors were going on the dole. Maybe I'm too soft: my guests sometimes do a runner without paying, although I guess that happens to tougher people too.

I love having people at home but it's mind-numbingly boring doing the ironing, cleaning the toilets and doing the hoovering. I do it because I have to, but it would be nicer to do some cabaret.

I did a bit of comedy in Edinburgh last year and kept getting invited back to open mic spots. I didn't want to run through the same comedy spiel every time so I started including more songs. Singing is my biggest passion and my biggest fear.

My alter ego is Ruby Summers and my show is called Kiss 'n' Tell. It came about because I loved the music and glamour of the 1950s and I also knew how to make clothes from that era.

It's mostly workies who lodge with me. They won't know that I'm performing at the festival because they'll be away early in the morning when I still have my rollers in. One of them heard me rehearsing last night, and probably thought I was drunk.

I've had a wee touch of skin cancer and friends have had other cancers, and that's been a real wake-up call - like "I might be dead in five years, I'd better stick a sequined dress on and warble till their ears bleed".

It's funny that this should all be happening now; I'm going to be past my sell-by date. I'm one of those people who does nothing for years and then, in the end, does something for shock value. I'm not going for world domination. I'm just trying to build up a musical CV and perhaps get an agent.

Absolute Cabaret: Kiss 'n' Tell With Ruby Summers is at Espionage, 4 India Buildings, Victoria Street, Edinburgh (free/non-ticketed) July 31-August 17, 0131 477 7007

NIALL MCLUSKEY
Day job: advocate
Night life: stand-up comedian

A jury trial is a fairly dramatic environment, and the performance aspect is what initially attracted me to the job of being an advocate. Despite the legal profession's formal image, criminal defence lawyers like Donald Finlay QC and Paul McBride have big personalities and are very witty. I've been an advocate for 13 years, since the age of 27, but I've been performing for less than a year. The persona I use for my stand-up show is Niall Hamish McNeil. He's a bit of a loser, a failure in the eyes of society. On the outside, his life is nothing like mine but there's definitely a bit of me in there, and bits from other people I know. Perhaps he's a vehicle to express a different side of myself and explore issues that would be otherwise taboo. Stand-up is all about taking risks: there's always the prospect that you could fall flat on your face.

If a stand-up idea comes to me during the working day, I phone myself on the mobile and leave a message. I also carry a digital dictaphone. I try not to lose ideas or get rid of any potential material. Fragments that seem to come out of nowhere can often be built into something good.

Someone once told me that you have to do at least 100 gigs before you can know if you're any good as a comedian. I've only done about 35, but I want to take it as far as I can. If I got to the stage of doing my comedy semi-professionally while still being an advocate, that would be a nice mix. It's great to have pursuits other than work - it gives you something to focus on, to grow from.

Niall McCluskey performs as part of The Absolute Best Of Absolute Beginners at The Mercat Bar, 28 West Maitland Street, Edinburgh, August 1-23, 0131 225 8716

YVONNE WARING
Day job: primary school teacher
Night life: Nurse Ratchet in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

In a way, teaching is like being a performer - you have to get up in front of an audience and put on a show. I always carry a copy of Roald Dahl's The Twits; I love reading it to children, and doing the characters' different voices. The moment you hit children with a new accent, you've got them in your hands. As a teacher, you've got to be yourself. You've got to be loveable to the children and you've got to be approachable.

Nurse Ratchet is the opposite type of character: very intense and in control. Preparing for a role is a bit like homework. I'll say the lines to myself in the bathroom mirror, looking in another mirror to see my face from all sides. I've seen myself sticking a Polly Pocket toy onto the shower wall with a script inside, washing my hair and practising my lines at the same time. I run through chunks of dialogue while driving to work and sometimes when I'm walking along the school corridor. At the end of the day, when I'm marking jotters, I might stop for five minutes and run through my lines again. People say I take acting too seriously, but for me it's like having a second job.

I've been teaching for 10 years now. I have a mortgage on my flat and a car to pay off. I would love to try acting full-time but my head's definitely screwed on. And, of course, teaching is terrific. I love it.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest is on at Sweet ECA, Edinburgh College Of Art, Lauriston Place, Edinburgh, August 2-9. Info: 0870 241 0136