I listen to a lot of podcasts, but I hadn't expected an interview with a comedian to change how I see my own writing practice.
Today, I woke up in a foul mood and I'm pretty sure it had everything to do with how badly I'd slept. Maybe that's how I ended up reaching for a pod episode with two comedians. Perhaps, subconsciously, I thought it'd turn things around.
Intentional or not, it did.
Walking, doing laundry, running, cooking, cleaning driving—that's where most of my podcast listening happens. It was a combination of cooking and driving today. Within the first few minutes of hitting play, I learned something surprising: Mike Birbiglia and Michael Che are actually friends in real life. Like, they've known each other for years and years, going all the way back to before Che joined SNL. Grabbing my coffee from the counter, I hit the lights, pulled the door and got in the car.
It's been very snowy lately in Vermont, and seeing all the sand and rock salt reminded me that I should really get a car wash soon. On the pod, they were still chatting about early intro stuff, like how Colin Jost is the one who discovered Che. I always like hearing origin stories of how people got to where they are now, so hearing about the early stages of his writing and standup journey was fascinating. While taking my exit, I laughed at how quickly they both agreed that up-and-coming comics share half-baked jokes too freely. I guess I'm old enough to side with the old guys, now. But that's also right about the time I hit pause.
Che said he sometimes sits with jokes he's working on for a year or more. They'd been talking about how new comics aren't getting discovered in clubs or dive-bar open mic nights; they're getting found online. By then, my brain had spun to life, going from listening mode to solve-it mode. Winding my way through backroads lined with trees and snowbanks, it dawned on me.
Younger comics are putting half-baked stuff online because getting discovered is a volume game now. Comics like Birbiglia or Che got their start work-shopping material at open mic nights because that's where the audiences were. Well, now they're online. Where getting noticed at a club used to earn you a chance on a late-night talk show, getting noticed online now earns you a chance at a club.
Holy shit.
We expect content online to be free because it's become the open-mic equivalent.
But, it didn't used to be... online used to be on-screen; and on-screen was where the most people could see it. Which is why comics like Birbiglia and Che default to saving their best work for online while they try their "first drafts" in-person. That's backwards now.
The distribution's inverted, but we haven't changed how we think about it.
I almost pulled over.
This daily column was originally an accountability mechanism for writing a book (still is). Daily writing helps me surface trends, like refining stuff at an open-mic. And then, writing weekly essays for Substack helps me distill those trends and stitch things together. Then, the best stuff that's been tweaked and worked on goes into the book. I'd been doing it that way on purpose, but now it feels less like the Wild West and more like I'm on the right track.
I have no idea what to do about that distribution inversion, though—the paradox of how people value work online compared to in-person.
Is there something you practice in a low-stakes environment before taking it to a bigger stage? Are you sure they're not inverted?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.