How to Grow: Keep Showing Up (and bring friends)
For those that know my storytelling journey, I’m hosting a live stage show — the Westside Story Club — in West Los Angeles on March 23rd. Tickets are available now.
Keep showing up. Even if the results aren't coming.
The change is happening beneath the surface.
Stories and Progress
I've been showing up to The Moth's live storytelling events for 15 months now.
This mirrors my journey of getting back on stage, after a two-decade hiatus:
Dec 2023: More Stage Time
Mar 2024: My wavering/unwavering commitment to getting on stage
Dec 2024: How I became a beginner, again
I’m hungry for stage time. To figure out my story, my voice.
I’ve done comedy open mics, and said yes to any opportunity to work my performing muscles again.
But The Moth has been my cornerstone.
I’ve bought tickets for 12 shows. Nearly perfect monthly attendance.
Trying to get on stage.
I want to get better at this. I could be great at this. “But it's not happening,” I tell myself.
I put my name in the hat every time.
17 names for 10 spots on stage.
42 names for 10 spots.
33 names for 10 spots.
I bought a ticket for 11 shows, and got up on stage for FIVE of them.
All things considered, these are incredibly lucky odds.
But in my worst mindset, that luck doesn't feel like progress. It feels like proof that I'm still very much stuck in a mediocre place, a mediocre storyteller, and a mediocre artist. Reliant on the luck of the draw—at an open mic—to grow.
I’m at the place in my artist’s journey — to paraphrase Ira Glass — where I have taste, but I cannot yet make something that matches that taste:
“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap.
For the first couple of years, you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you.
A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this.
And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions.
And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take a while. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”
Last Night
Last night, back at The Moth.
27 names for 10 spots.
I had three friends in the audience.
And, hey, get this… ALL FOUR OF US got up on stage. Four names of the 10 spots. Me, Jay, Kenny, and Lilly.
What are the odds? (They’re impossibly low.)
It's a miracle. A sign? A divine encouragement.
A whisper through the hazy forest of expectations and taste to keep going.
Keep pressing in.
Keep showing up.
This will take time.
Mistaking Winning and Progress
One of my friends won. Kenny. On his first visit. This was my 12th show. His first.
But he’s a 25-year “instant” success story. We did improv together 20 years ago and I took a professional detour and he stayed with it. He’s done shows and improv and performance work for that entire run while I was building and running a business.
Deep down, I feel like a bit of a tourist on his block, by coming back around to wanting an artist’s way of life at my age.
So I’m glad he won. He did great. He deserved it. It's a sign that improvement happens, albeit more slowly than any of us want.
I did fine, and told a good story. Jokes, tears, and a solid structure. I'm pretty good at this, but I am not yet inevitable. And I desperately want to be inevitable.
I’ve gotten up on stage six times now at The Moth and I’ve never won the night. Came close. I’ve been discouraged over not winning. It seems petty, and perhaps I am. I want more than what I can make today. But I can’t — I mustn’t — mistake winning the night for something more valuable: the unseen progression of growth.
As I drove home, I was happy that I showed up, and brought friends.
Maybe that’s it.
Keep showing up and bring friends. Surround yourself with nourishment.
Like a seed sprouting beneath the ground's surface, the growth is happening. You just can't see it yet.
Keep watering. Keep showing up.
One day, this talent will sprout, even if it's not today.
It is inevitable.
Why storytelling? Why get on stage?
This quote from Portland pastor Tyler Staton sums it up:
“Your life, broken open, allows others to see their story in yours, your life a living invitation echoing to their own.”
I love this work. Sure, I like jokes and comedy, but I also like sharing stories to connect with others deeply. This is at the heart of my branding work, the consultative problem-solving I love, in partnership with others. This is why I’m getting on stage. To know and be known.
If you want to join me, here are two things you can do:
If you live in the LA area, I’m hosting my own storytelling show on Sunday, March 23rd. Tickets are available NOW at WestsideStoryClub.com.
If you know of a speaking opportunity — at a conference you like, or a church you attend, or a company you work for — I’d love to hear about it.
Have a great week —
Here we go!
Alec
Can't wait!!
Great that you’re doing that. These things just take so much time. Even the “overnight successes” like your friend have usually put in lots of work that the outside world doesn’t know about.