How I Became a Beginner, Again
My year (back) on stage and what's next
Last December, my friend Norm suggested I try performing at one of The Moth’s regular Story Slam nights — their “open mic” style storytelling shows.
I hadn’t done anything on stage like that in almost two decades. Not since my twenties, when I dabbled in stand-up, improv, and Shakespeare. I had presented at work and spoken at advertising conferences, but not like this.
But I went, got up on stage, and did pretty well. I almost won that night:
After getting up on stage ONE TIME, I had the hubris (bravery?) to make a new years' resolution to get up on stage 20 times in 2024.
To reclaim something that felt like me. I didn’t have a plan. Just a commitment.
20 times.
My only criteria: me + microphone + a room of strangers.
I didn't hit 20, but I did get up 17 times, which is 16 more than the entire prior decade.
4 times at The Moth
10 comedy open mics
3 times doing announcements at church (it counts! it’s a big room!)
Here’s one of my favorite stories from The Moth — about the time I met Kobe Bryant. Almost won that night, too. Are you detecting a theme?
A Beginner, Again
Performing and trying, earnestly, to be good at this has been hard.
It’s hard to look at what I can do, and realize that it it not (yet) good enough.
I am a beginner, again.
I was a beginner at this 20 years ago. And now, I am again.
It’s very, very hard to not play the comparison game. To be a fan of successful people my exact same age (ahem, Pete Holmes, Nate Bargatze, Mike Birbiglia) and not “feel behind.”
It’s been a year of trying many new things, and realizing that I’m not yet good enough to warrant any attention.
I sit for long nights at open mics — alongside 22-year-olds also waiting their turn for five minutes on stage. And according to my skill level, I belong there there with them.
Steve Martin famously wrote, “Be so good they can’t ignore you.” In the area of public speaking and stand-up comedy, I am oh-so ignorable.
This strikes me at my core because DON’T THEY KNOW? I am talented! I built and ran and sold a successful creative agency! I own a home! I am a great marketer! I have many leather-bound books!
And yet, the evidence (in this area) says otherwise. No one from Netflix has called. No speaking gigs lined up. No one beating down my door, clamoring for more.
I take solace in this: to quote author and my new friend Scott Erickson, “I am on my way.”
I’m not there (yet). I’m developing a new skill.
Getting up on stage isn’t hard for me.
But embracing that I’m a beginner, again? That’s the work.
The only thing in life that’s really worth having is good skill.
Good skill is the greatest possession.
The things that money buys are fine. They’re good. I like them. But having a skill…
It’s a very Zen Buddhist concept. Pursue mastery. That will fulfill your life.
(Jerry Seinfeld)
I’m on my way.
“Find Your Room”
So what's next?
“You just need to find your room.”
Katie said this to me, after a particularly rough night bombing at an open mic and then being poorly received at The Moth the next night.
These rooms are fine. Worth visiting.
But they may not be “my” room.
Full of the people who want to experience the kind of storytelling, jokes, and depth that I want.
So — and you heard it here first — I’m making my own room.
I'm producing a stage show in 2025.
At least one.
If When it goes well, a series.
A variety show of storytelling, comedy, music, and (checks notes) human connection.
I'm going to emcee and share some of my work. And I'm looking for people to join me.
My goals are to find my voice, find my people, and find my room.
I'm renting a real theater and putting on a real show.
I feel like Kermit the Frog. We have the same sized biceps.
I already have the immense internal self-doubt. Will this go well? If it does, will it matter?
Big things start with small steps.
Here's the first date:
Sunday night, March 23.
West Los Angeles. (Theater TBD, working out the contract!)
I'm calling it the Westside Story Club.
Not to be confused with the fans of the Romeo & Juliet-inspired musical.
Nope. No connection.
No sharks. No jets. Just storytellers.
I've always loved — and in my calmest, best mindset, tried to follow the advice of — this quote:
“Be kind, for everyone you know is privately fighting a mighty battle.”
At our show, we'll battle together, because we'll know each other a little more deeply.
We'll get a peek behind the curtain.
We'll get a glimpse into this shared life together.
And it will be fun.
Join Me in the Westside Story Club
Here's how you can get involved—even just to hear about the show when I have details to share:
Leave a comment here, offering encouragement. I'll take all of it.
Sign up for the mailing list — I'll let you know about the show and tickets soon
Offer to volunteer to help
Raise a hand to perform. I'm looking for storytellers, comedians, musicians, and whoever has a storytelling talent to share on stage.
Follow on Instagram at either @alecmcnayr or @westsidestoryclub
You can DM me on the side and tell me how GREAT this idea is.
I am brimming with confidence.
I am riddled with self-doubt.
Either way, here I go.
Year 2 back on stage.
I’m on my way.
Thanks, as always, for following along.
Excited for this year and what it brings. It’s very much into the unknown.
Have a great new year —
Alec
Alec, I’m very proud of you and will try to attend. You have more inner strength than you realize and accomplished more than most.
Game on!