Have you ever watched a discussion panel where there are a handful of truly noteworthy people- like TITANS, and then somehow, right in the middle, speaking the most, is the least notable person of the batch?
It’s a dumb question because I know the answer: yes. Duh. 100%
This is not a phenomenon specific only to comics. This is merely a person with incredibly sharp elbows, making absolutely sure they get their moment even if they’re not fighting in their class.
On the one hand, I hate that person and never want to be them. You’ll see me shrink on panels sometimes when I see another panelist exhibit that behavior. Even though I am a full-fledged diva Leo, I’m fed enough in my own orbit that I don’t need a room of strangers to witness me vie for attention. In an ideal world, a creator can let the work speak for itself, and let a publisher’s marketing department get the work in front of people’s eyes. All the creator has to do is say one charming line and wear a cute outfit :-]
Granted, we’re not in the “ideal world” timeline.
A comedian friend of mine is at a bit of an impasse in their career. There are viral clips, local bookings, and a decent Internet following… but no college tours. No Netflix is a Joke slots. No invitation to work in a comedy writers’ room. While it’s not my specific field, I’ve watched plenty of other comedians climb the ranks to achieve notoriety, and it’s my belief that ascensions mainly come from hard work and asking for the opportunities you want. One of the last things they said to me before I gave up on soliciting advice and realized I’m no one’s manager is: “I’ll reach out to that comedian and see if they want to grab coffee once I get on another podcast.”
To which I replied, with a bitchy grit: “You need sharper elbows.”
There is something to be said for advocating for yourself in a way that doesn’t feel opportunistic. The line may be hard to find between gently reminding the world you exist, and being perceived as pushy, and I wish I had the magical equation for how to judge every scenario. I’d say instincts, but the aforementioned friend thinks sending a “hey can we chat maybe” email is way too aggressive, and I believe he should be reach out to other comics without even telling his primary comedian Sherpa, because we’re freelance creatives, not monogamous lovers.
Sometimes, sharp elbows can be a spark of tenacity in you that turns a small opportunity into the chance of a lifetime. I think back to being in a green room for Jenny Lewis’s “On the line on-line” telethon. I was only supposed to be there for a small segment where I’d draw somebody phoning in based on her self-description, but my call time was the same as everyone else’s. I was sitting in a room with an a cappella group watching superstars like Jeff Goldblum, St. Vincent, Vanessa Bayer, and Jason Schwartzman bounce around the soundstage downstairs. If I hadn’t made the decision to walk myself down to the shadows of the set and start doing life drawings of the shenanigans during the telethon, I would have missed out on one of the most curiously special experiences of my life, I would not have been responsible for raising a little more money to the downtown women’s shelter, and I may not have ended up in the “Redbull and Hennessy” music video.
Of course, not every scenario crackles with the “Almost Famous” energy of a plucky youth doing something WILD and getting the chance of a lifetime. For every one of those moments in my life, I can think back to countless incidents where I’ve been met with the most withering glares of dismissal that send me flying back to cringetopia, population: Me.
I suppose the key to knowing the difference between what is your inner saboteur at play and knowing when you’re being cringe is time… If you’re gonna waste someone’s time, how much are you wasting, and why?
It was no skin off anyone’s back that I sat in the back of a soundstage (very much out of the crew’s way) and did some doodles during the Jenny Lewis telethon. Sending a succinct email to an editor who can decide on their schedule if they have time to address it would not be considered annoying. This is a very subjective topic, but I feel like it’s always best to leave people wanting more, and not overstay your welcome. A discussion panel with other folks wanting to talk about their work is not the place to go into great length about your life story. Book a podcast for that!
Ultimately, I’d suggest we all keep our elbows sharp enough to cut through the herd, but not so sharp that you’re actually cutting a bitch. If you’re going to take up someone’s time, make it count. To anyone out on these streets who’s aware they’re not the titan of the group, just remind yourself that the best openers for headlining acts are the ones that keep their set list so tight the audience goes, “that was actually really good, I gotta check out the rest of their stuff when I get home.”
All of this is on my mind because I will be attending San Diego Comic-Con next week and I will not be shrinking on my one scheduled panel because it’s me and two of my favorite human beings in the world talking about my favorite subject: Superman!! Valentino Zullo will be moderating a chat with me and Sarah Kuhn next Friday afternoon, and it will be fabulous. I’d have planned for more, but a special cool neat fun project isn’t getting announced til a little later in the year.
Hope to see some of you there! Stay sharp.
Love this advice 💪
If you want to start a stable of people you accidentally manage... sign me up.