I’ll be honest with you, I’m not good with rejection, like at all. I really struggle with it, and I think I would be further in my career as a writer and as a comedian if fear of rejection hadn’t stopped me from submitting more often to publishers, agents, festivals, etc. This surprises people since I put myself on stage and risk rejection so often, but that’s an instant succeed or fail, and I can instantly adjust, and flex to try and turn it around. Spending months on something, a piece of writing, or getting a perfect set together and taped, sending it off and then waiting for an email to say “Nah”, is a whole other ballgame.
There’s a room in a nearby town that doesn’t book me and it drives me mad. I’ve made the trek out to their open mic to let them see me in action. I had a headliner who produced his own shows there book me to feature for him, and I did very well. When a headliner they booked to do a weekend requested me as their feature and was offered someone else instead, I wrote and asked what more I could do to get on their roster.
This email sucked to receive:
“Here's the bottom line: I like you as a person and I'm happy you're meeting your goals and you're finding success. Unfortunately, you don't don't pass my personal funny test. I don't laugh a lot when I'm watching your sets. Sorry. So when it comes to booking my room - your requests just keep getting bumped down below others.
I'm sorry that - that is the case here, and I'm not sure what to say other than that. I know that's never what a comic wants to hear”
This booker books acts that I consider incredibly hacky and some that I find worse than hacky, just plain bad. I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell them to go screw, to point out that I work at much bigger clubs than theirs, featuring for much bigger names. I took a breath. I said these things to myself instead, and then I thanked them for their honesty, included my latest clip in case they wished to reconsider, and talked mad amounts of smack on them with my best comedian friends in private, away from their ears.
I’ve been a booker. I ran a weekly room for 5 years and I’m incredibly proud of the comedy that came out of that room and the scene that developed around it. But part of cultivating a quality room was being picky. There were comics I didn’t book, or didn’t book often and some called me a snob and a gatekeeper. They called the whole group of us cafe comics, which I think is comedian for sour grapes but we came to wear it as a badge of pride. I can honestly say, I was just trying to put together a good show for the audience, a show I felt good about, while giving hardworking comics a place to grow. And I probably missed out on some comics whose potential I couldn’t see, and I definitely hurt some feelings though that was never my intention.
I’ve seen both sides, and its an uncomfortable part of the business on both ends.
I was talking with a young comic who had long complained about us judgmental older comics gatekeeping. He told me the scene was more welcoming now than when he started. I said "Well, maybe its because you've gotten better, and all along we were just trying to book the best shows we could."
Twice I’ve managed to reply politely and cheerfully to rejection letters and it magically turned them into bookings.
I applied to SF Sketchfest on behalf of my sketch comedy troupe I Can’t Believe It’s Not Comedy. When I saw a reply email from them I was very nervous clicking to open it, and devastated to read a rejection notice. I didn’t reply right away. I was pissed, hurt, and disappointed. I was sure that we were better than half the acts they’d booked the previous year. I went for a walk. I took some breaths. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote again my response, and finally edited it down to something like, “Thank you for considering us. We are big fans of your festival. We’ll continue participating as audience members this year, and apply again next year.”
To my amazement they wrote back and said a spot had opened if we wanted it. We took it. We had a great time.
We had an almost identical experience applying for the Seattle Sketchfest. We were rejected, and sent a friendly thank you reply, and let them know we’d be attending as audience members, and they offered us a few spots.
Both festivals booked me multiple times after that, with the sketch troupe, and as a stand up.
Rejection sucks. There’s no way around it. And people are judging you on something that is totally subjective, and also very dear to you. It helps me to remember, The Beatles got rejection letters. Billy Crystal was rejected from SNL originally, as was Pee Wee Herman. Cheech and Chong had to book their own shows to prove to the establishment that they had something audiences wanted. My friend Jonathan, a filmmaker, displays his rejection letters with pride on one wall of his office. I’m not quite there yet, but I love his attitude. On to the next victory, it really is the bast salve, and we’re comedians, every laugh is a victory. Go find an audience to remind you that you’ve got something to offer, and make it your goal that the people who didn’t book you one day come to regret what they missed. I find spite is a wonderful motivation. Be undeniable.
This was a great post and I enjoyed everything you had to say. I wonder if comedy newbs would handle their rejections as newcomers differently than old pros or even novices, or whether they would benefit from the same advice. (That was a question, believe it or not.) Thanks for sharing all this stuff with us!
dear keith,
thank you for sharing all of this. i really appreciate it. that email must have been hard to receive! i just wanted to let you know that you MORE than pass MY personal funny test. you ace it. with flying colors. people don't often hear about acing a test with flying colors, because it's redundant and sounds weird, but that's what you do!
i think this is also a very wise point: "I was talking with a young comic who had long complained about us judgmental older comics gatekeeping. He told me the scene was more welcoming now than when he started. I said 'Well, maybe its because you've gotten better, and all along we were just trying to book the best shows we could.'"
that reminds me of something i think about when people ask me how standup comedy has changed in the two decades i've been doing it, and i often say "audiences laugh a lot more at me now." it's impossible for the same comedian to step in the same comedy audience river twice, they say.
this is also beautiful and inspiring to hear: "Twice I’ve managed to reply politely and cheerfully to rejection letters and it magically turned them into bookings."
this helps ME to remember as well: "It helps me to remember, The Beatles got rejection letters"
thank you for sharing all of this, and for receiving this acceptance letter from me. i love you!
love
myq