The manifesto

People say to follow your dreams; do what you love instead of what makes you money. Some of these people are lucky enough to already be famous. Some aren't doing what they're truly passionate about, and instead are doing something to pay the bills. What happens is that most of us are doing things we'd rather not be doing because our dreams are just a bit too far away.

I'm fighting long odds. Comedy is a soul-crushing business, I'm told. Comedy is next to impossible to make it big in. If I believe that I stand a good chance of making it big, I'm delusional. I admit and openly accept that I don't stand a good chance of being successful in my goal. That's the basis of this blog: to see if I can actually do it.

Why am I doing this? Because I want to. Because I'm a hopeless optimist who will either be sorely disappointed in the bitter reality, or I'll somehow get lucky. If I fail at my goal, feel free to mock me. Feel free to join in the chorus of people telling me that I need to grow up and face the real world.

I admit that wanting something isn't enough. There are loads of people out there who want to be famous, to be rich, to be something special. We can't get what we want just because we want it really badly. But if years of focused dedication towards a goal isn't enough to make it happen, then I don't know what is.

The current thinking says that expertise and virtuosity in something only emerges after 10,000 hours of focused and dedicated practice. That's just under 3 hours per day, every day, for ten years. That's working a full-time job for 4 years and 10 months. It takes a lot. Why do you think that so many people stop before ever getting to that level?

I've been trying to be funny for longer than I can remember. I've been writing since age 13, and it took four years for that to click. I've probably put in 1000 hours already, but none of that matters. I'm setting this arbitrary goal of 500 open mics for myself.

I want to break the mold and do what I want because it makes me happy. I might succeed. I probably will fail. But I'd rather fail doing something that fulfills me than succeed at something that leaves me unsatisfied.