# Read

If you’re trying to hit the zeitgeist, you’re gonna miss and be too late. Authenticity is timeless ...

I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want to be the next ‘so-and-so’ anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still on my grind—I still bleed this shit. But I’m just ... enjoying the ride.

It’s all storytelling, be it a product or a film or a TV show. Combining art and business is a tale as old as time.

And all of this is happening at a time when the culture is redefining women—tossing aside Harriet and Lucy for Maude and Mary Tyler Moore—and deciding that female student-athletes should have access to the same benefits as the guys (with the passage of Title IX).

Every creative knows that feeling. We also know it's just part of the business. An occupational hazard. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on. But for some, that one little bee sting feels more like a thousand angry hornets.

... leaving the little tracks in the dirt where you can see behind you for miles what you left but not why.

We all have them. That little thing that most people don’t even notice, but annoys the absolute hell out of us.

If I flew, I’d know this path was meant for me. If I fell, I’d finally be able to put an end to all of the story ideas that went off like sparklers in my brain keeping me up at night.

I was dropped into a radioactive vat of freckles and now roam the Earth to ginger-fy its people. Er—no. Wrong origin story.

With stand-up, it's one of the purest forms of art. It's just you, on a stage, and you better make the crowd laugh.

Meredith Glynn's path through the industry not only illustrated one way a lot of writers break in, but it also pointed out some mistakes or missed opportunities in my own career.

They call it a “big break,” but it is, in truth, more the culmination of a million tiny cracks that finally give way.

When I was nine years old, I handed my parents the synopsis of a then-unwritten book scrawled in my chaotic handwriting. I announced that I was going to write a novel and get it published. My parents believed me. I got to work.

Yet here she was, about to make the biggest pitch of her life: requesting a promotion to staff writer on the sixth and final season of a show some call the best on television.

I felt like a different person. I had grown as a writer. I had grown as an artist.