Diary Entry #3: The Numbers 33 and 1,000
And why they matter
The Number 33
For two hours, in front of 33 people in a New York comedy theater on a Monday night, I was famous.
It was the first of several in-person events I’m doing for Spoilers, and the book launch party featured readings from some of the funniest people I’ve ever met and who I’m honored to count as friends. I also read from my book and did a Q&A with my friend and fellow satirist, Chandler Dean, who hosted the event. The fact that anyone would show up on a Monday at 9:30pm to hear me talk about something I’d written is still mind-blowing to me (if you’re one of those people who showed up to the event, thank you!!) Getting together with so many great friends and fellow writers made the Spirit Airlines, no carry-on, underwear stuffed into the pockets of my jacket, non-reclining seat in the far back corner of the plane, 100% worth it.
This is the third installment in what is (at least in my head) becoming The Honda Civic Diaries. Which doesn’t make any sense if you haven’t read the first entry, but I like the name more than the original name, The Numbers, and this is a newsletter section I’m writing for free and for fun, so nobody can tell me I can’t change the name. It’s also a diary that’s evolving as I document the self-publishing process of my book in real time, so a name change is just the sort of thing that happens when you’re winging it like I am.
I should say, quickly, that if you’re not interested in the nitty-gritty of self-publishing, you can unsubscribe from this section without unsubscribing from Shades of Greaves. If you do, I will not be upset, and (no offense) but I might not even notice. It’s not like I’m constantly combing through my subscriber list to see who’s reading what. I lose subscribers from time to time and I have no idea who they are. My mom might have unsubscribed for all I know (come to think of it, she hasn’t mentioned my newsletter in a while. Hmmm…)
The Number 1,000
During the Q&A on Monday, Chandler asked me about self-publishing in the context of the rapidly evolving (and seemingly ever more precarious) entertainment industry, and whether self-publishing and other self-driven projects could be a sustainable model for creative work.
The question reminded me of a blog post I’d come across a while ago that introduced the concept of 1,000 True Fans. In a nutshell, it’s the idea that you don’t need 2 million followers (although that would be nice!) to have a self-sustaining career. All you need is a group of dedicated fans who admire and support your work.
More importantly, it’s the idea that even (relatively) small creative communities can support and sustain each other’s work. I definitely think the online humor/satire community is one of those communities, and there’s no greater proof of that than the fact that 30+ people would come out on a Monday night to hear some guy read a piece from his new book where Superman’s visa application gets denied and half of the piece is just a list of every single step required to get an H-1B visa.
I wasn’t thinking about the “1,000 True Fans” model when I set a goal of selling 1,000 copies of my book. And at roughly $5 of royalties per copy, selling 1,000 books is far from enough to make a living through writing books alone. But, regardless of whether I sell 1,000 copies or not, Monday night was an encouraging sign that maybe, between writing books, and teaching, and all of my other jobs, I can cobble together a living while having time to pursue these sorts of creative projects I love.
And Speaking of Books…
I want to mention another recently published book that you should definitely check out. Frequent McSweeney’s and New Yorker contributor,
, has an essay collection out this week called This Won’t Help: Modest Proposals for a More Enjoyable Apocalypse. Eli leaves no satirical stone unturned, and the razor-sharp essays in the book will have you laughing so hard you’ll forget that the world is actually on fire.The Number 45
On my flight back from New York, I had a run-in with, arguably, one of the most famous (or infamous, depending on how you look at it) people on Earth. After I’d boarded my flight, our plane got stuck on the tarmac for over an hour because, according to the pilot, a “VIP” was on the runway and the airport had grounded all other air traffic. I looked out my window and spotted Donald Trump’s Boeing 757 in the distance (The giant TRUMP logo painted across the fuselage sort of gave it away). About half an hour later, a motorcade of Cadillac Escalades sped past within a couple dozen feet of our plane. As the black SUVs drove by us, the clouds darkened, the wind howled, and the sky turned an ominous shade of orange.
Or maybe I was just hallucinating from the pain of my seat digging into my tailbone for an hour.
Eventually, we were given clearance and took of. I looked out the window as we rose above the New York skyline, and it dawned on me — I will never, ever be shut-down-an-entire-airport-runway-famous.
But I’d take 33-people-in-a-theater-famous any day.
To read the next entry, click here.
Never say never, Carlos! You totally deserve to be shut-down-an-entire-airport-runway-famous!