Pat Tuesday: on taking a village
Hi y’all! Happy Pat Tuesday! We didn’t have one last week, so this one’s gotta be extra special!
BIG BEAR goes up in NINE DAYS and I’m quite frankly beside myself. We’ve sold out our Thursday and 2pm Saturday shows, but there are still tickets available for our Friday and late Saturday shows, as well as the livestream. You gotta come to this show! I tell ya folks, it’s gonna be so good. We’ve also welcomed the brilliant actor and comedian Brendan Scannell to the cast as Mykel after the scheduling gods have called the beautiful Chris Renfro elsewhere, and when I tell you he’s incredible, you better believe me.
The show itself is coming together so incredibly well—lines are getting locked in and the stage is filling up with trash props. The thing I forgot about theater is that, unlike film, literally everything has to converge at the exact same time to be live and present for the audience. I’m bouncing between wardrobe fittings and set design meetings and actor rehearsals and script editing—it’s very fulfilling to be a single man who works too hard, I feel like Reba.
One of those jobs has also been writing a bonafide pop hit. There’s a scene in the play where the entire group dances to their “trip song”—that pop song that everyone is absolutely sick of at this point, but is important to the trip because it’ll make everyone think of the weekend every time they hear it. I realized that I couldn’t use a real pop song for rights issues (unless I got permission, but Sabrina Carpenter isn’t answering my texts), so I thought “why don’t we just build a pop song”? So I got together with two of the greatest music makers I know, Mary Lou and Calvin Seabrooks, and we created a song about having sex using math metaphors. It’s called “Night Math” and it’s so stupid and so good and you can hear it on Spotify now.
The fact that “Night Math” in itself could even be created within the network of people I know is what I’m thinking about today. They say “it takes a village” all the time, but only when you need a village is when you realize how lucky you are to have one. In fact, this entire play-making process has made me more aware and more grateful of my village than ever before. I didn’t foresee the amount of people needed to pull of something like this, and I think I’ve asked about 50-60 people for work, help and favors throughout this process. And it’s people from everywhere— friends from college, longtime collaborators, comedians I’ve worked with, friends of friends of friends of friends, students I’ve taught in college, complete strangers. The 1,000 backers of the Kickstarter. Hell, you reading this, you’re in my village.
But I don’t say this in some sort of comforting, sentimental way to say “aww I love my friends” or whatever. I say this in a “Oh my God, without these people I would be dead” sort of way. In your burgeoning career, if you want to go into the arts, there’s gonna be a very tempting desire to isolate yourself. Especially as a writer, it’s easy to say “I’ll go off into this cave and make my masterpiece, and then when I’m really good everyone’s gonna love me”. That ain’t the way. In creative endeavors, you need people around you who are not only going to raise you up and make you better, but people who are gonna keep you honest and remind you of the struggle. You’re also gonna need people who aren’t artists, or at least not the type of artist you are. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have friends that are costumers and sound designers and property managers and shirt designers and lawyers and simply people who own a truck. BIG BEAR has reaffirmed to me, as much as I’m someone who likes to do everything, that unfortunately I am one person, but luckily I’m one person with a network of people that have my back, just like I have theirs. Because this play is just one thing in our lifetimes of working together, and they know I got them on the next go-round.
Here’s some tight little tips for building the village:
with my village Moon Goon
Go to things - be the person who supports. Go to friends’ shows, go to birthdays, go to art openings. Just be a person about the world—when I was starting out in the improv community, I picked one indie show at the Clubhouse and decided to just be there every Sunday for as long as I could—because of that, I became friends with the hosts, I met everyone who performed, and I felt more comfortable in the space I eventually wanted to perform in.
Build relationships about stuff other than art - When you get into a community, all you’re going to want to do is do improv shows and make sketches and write scripts with your new creative friends. But enriching your friendships with things as far away from your primary art as possible will be deeply important—go on walks, go to weird events, take ceramics classes together. Build bonds that withstand whether or not you’re working on something with someone.
Don’t expect your friends to be your fans - I see this all the time (and I’ve been this) and it’s tough. When you start doing stuff, you might start making stuff you want your friends to see. But truthfully, if you build animosity to a friend because they didn’t come support your thing, that’s not gonna pan out well. When it comes to making art, you should assume that the people you love will never pay for your art—you’ll always give them comp if you can anyway, and why would you make your friend pay for your thing? The second you expect creative collaborators to financially support you is usually the moment the friendship goes off-kilter. And of course, many of them will—good friends can do that—but to have it be a tenet of your friendship is dangerous.
Always be aware that your project is only the most important thing to you — One of the biggest mistakes I’ve made creatively is assuming that someone is as deeply invested in my vision as I am (when they’re working on it for free). While that’s of course the dream and the fantasy of creating, they might love it, they might care a lot, but while this idea goes everywhere with you because it came from you, they’re attaching to it with probably a million other things—including relationships, day jobs, and passions of their own—also occupying their time. If you prove yourself to be someone who gives grace and is the type of creator that people can easily “tap in” with—not someone who’s emailing at odd hours, scheduling too many rehearsals, getting cross when arbitrary deadlines aren’t met—you’re gonna continue to have people who want to work with you. And don’t diminish your own passion for what you do, but remember that one doesn’t have to be as passionate as you to also do what you need them to do.
Return the favor as soon as you can — be the person that other people can count on in return. If someone does you a solid, the next thing you have to figure out is how you can give that back. And there might not be an opportunity yet, but be ready for that call. If someone’s part of your village, you gotta be a part of theirs. It has to work both ways.
2016’s “Rich and Bored”, a show I wrote for
Ego Nwodim and Carl Tart
I know people that have made it to the top of this industry, and I’ll tell ya—the ones who keep their sanity are the ones who didn’t go it alone. So make that village, y’all. Life is better with people who make you better.
PAT’S CORNER - things I’m up to this week
BIG BEAR is NEXT WEEK - Get your tickets today—that link loops you into the live show tickets and livestream!
YouTube Couples on AOAOAOA - we played YouTube Couples in Trouble and it’s a favorite episode of mine! Always a dream to scream about relationship issues with these freaks
One of Us Podcast - I joined Chris Renfro and Fin Argus on their wonderful goofy crazy insane podcast and had so much fun! Go listen!
PAT’S PICK - something I love this week
Judge Judy on Amy Poehler’s “Good Hang” Podcast - as a podcast fan I was shocked to see Judge Judy doing this show, but listening to her was so great. Her negotiation story is truly legendary. Just listen.
Okay love you bye!
Patrick