Swing...and a Miss

I got off the slush pile for just a second and it was neat. If you don’t know what a slush pile is, it’s a grouping of submissions from myriad “authors” to any publisher or agent. They go into a pile (if they are unsolicited) and as the publisher/agent can get to them, they send out rejections. See, writing is like the early days of America’s Got Talent and American Idol. There are thousands upon thousands of willing participants that want to live the dream. They want to put their work in front of somebody that can jet them right to stardom and have it accepted. But when their work gets in front of the judges and is laid bare for all to see, the lacking is obvious. Sadly, those with the real talent for the craft are lumped in with the William Hungs (which I am not casting shade on that man, he was adorable and I admire his bravado) of the world) and the publishers have to wade through the slush to find the diamond in the rough.

I know this is a thing. A few years after I began comedy I became one of the house MCs at an “A” club in the Midwest. This was back in ‘95 when I started. Yea though verily when the dinos walked the earth and Keith Richards was yet raised from the dead by a necromancer. I would sit in the sound booth upstairs and watch other comics perform (it was a MAJOR privilege to be allowed upstairs.) The video tapes of comics lined the walls almost from floor to ceiling. The club managers when they had time outside of running the club (which was not much) would look at tapes. It’s just an impossible task to see them all. And when I was able to watch those tapes…I difficult task to sit through all the cringe.

Those stacks of tapes were the slush pile of comedy. I understand the struggle. It’s just the tragedy of life that in those slush piles that there are the truly talented that get lost in the white noise. There’s no way to find them. No laser that will lead you directly to them. Now, in this weird world we live in, there’s an added level to the struggle that many artists are screaming BULLSHIT over. It’s called having a platform. While it makes sense, it’s bullshit.

Essentially the publisher/talent agency/agent has a first question: How many followers do you have? The author/dancer/comic/artist/actor(ress) is way more attractive of an entity if they have a couple hundred thousand followers on social media. Doesn’t matter if they have talent or clean work up front (don’t agree? Look at the editing/writing in fifty shades or Twilight) because the publisher/record label/talent agency wants a set of guaranteed sales. So, if some kid found herself 500,000 followers for farting into a megaphone at strangers, her book/movie idea/etc. will get way more play than a young lady from Delta, Ohio with the next Tale of Two Cities or Cask of Amontillado. It’s gross. It’s tragic. On a level it makes sense.

Staying alive in these industries where EVERYTHING is competing for people’s short attention spans and limited spending ability, these entities need to hedge their bets and mitigate risk. So, if the guy that has two million followers because he grinds on grandmas at music festivals will sell a guaranteed 100k books versus the woman from Delta, they are going with Sir-Grinds-a-Lot. It’s gross but, frankly, understandable. It just breaks the hearts of the true artists that put their time and soul into their work. It also lessens the art world (on all levels) and makes the world a slightly darker place.

Those at the Mt. Everest peak of the game will deliver platitudes like, “The cream will rise to the top…hard work pays off…talent and sweat will always trump luck…” This isn’t true. Not in today’s world. I will hazard a guess that few will read this. Why? Right now I’m in the slush pile.