Back in 2021, I wrote some code to produce an entirely clickable transcript of Naval's "How to Get Rich" podcast episode. As I wrote it, I remember being full of self-doubt. The idea felt too niche, too small, and my first few dozen outputs simply didn’t work (misaligned timestamps, broken urls, etc.). In those early days of the project, all I had were negative thoughts—I even convinced myself that I was using this “toy project” as clever way to procrastinate on more important things.
In an attempt to get back to those more important things, and embrace the “good enough is better than perfect” spirit, I shipped the version I had. To my surprise, the transcript went on to get retweeted by both hosts of the podcast and I got a lot of love in the comments of my launch tweet.
When you succeed at something, it’s easy to forget what the early days felt like. That’s why I promised myself to remember the tumultuous start—to reflect on the bewildering difference between how I felt about the work and how the work was actually received. Why am I so critical of my first drafts? Are my first drafts just as terrible as the those made by “professionals”? How do successful people handle their awkward starts?
Among people famous for their work, it’s hard to truly know how bad their first drafts can get. That is, until you observe someone like a seasoned stand-up comedian work away on their new joke.
stand-up comedians
One night in New York City, I went to a weeknight show at the Village Underground1. That night, I watched comedian Mark Normand absolutely tear up the crowd. His jokes were provocative, the punchlines would come in at an angle you wouldn’t suspect, and his no-filler material was delivered in rapid succession.
After what felt like 10 minutes of pure comedic genius, his jokes started to miss. The room suddenly felt awkward. His new jokes had the same momentum of setup-and-punchline but the punchline fell flat. The crowd was uncomfortably quiet, maintaining a silence you know was supposed to be full of laughs given the genius of his earlier material. He started quietly apologizing to the crowd, stating that he’s just trying out some new stuff as he flipped through the pages of a small notebook resting on his stool. I didn’t mind the silence because I amazed at what I was seeing. Here was a seasoned comic workshopping his new material live in front of his audience. In my lifetime, I’ll likely never have access to Stephen King’s early rough drafts or hear Kanye’s first recordings of Jesus Walks,2 but I got to witness the unpolished first attempts of a joke from a comedian that sells out comedy clubs.3
the lesson
This gave me the realization that everyone, regardless of who they are or how successful they've become, starts somewhere and their beginnings are far from perfect.
This isn't limited to "artistic" endeavors either. Starting your own business with zero customers, going on your very first date, or starting your new workout plan, they all suffer from the same awkward, painful start.
But it doesn't have to be painful. What is needed is a change of perspective. It's important to view these first phases as essential steps rather than evidence of imminent failure—as with Mark’s early material, your joke can fall flat today in order for it to kill tomorrow.
The first steps into a new endeavor are courageous, make no mistake about it. You are choosing to forgo a Doordash delivery, endless content on YouTube, and the siren songs of social media, to sit down and focus on creating something out of nothing—it’s a minor miracle you’re starting at all!
holy ground
Do you know what the first thing was that God said to Moses? He said, "take off your sandals, for you're on holy ground." Before Moses went on to do great things, before he freed the Israelites out of Egypt, and parted the Red Sea, and uttered the Ten Commandments, at the very beginning, he stood on holy ground. In the same vein, starting something new is not to be trivialized, great things begin from sacred starts. You’re standing on holy ground.
Good Beats
Love the strong start of this song.
A 50¢ word (aka words that say a lot with less)
Sisyphus (noun):
a son of Aeolus and ruler of Corinth, noted for his trickery: he was punished in Tartarus by being compelled to roll a stone to the top of a slope, the stone always escaping him near the top and rolling down again.
The starts of a project can often feel Sisyphean in nature. Push forward.
For Your Thoughts
It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.
—Leonardo da Vinci
Yours,
-Rahul
P.S. a reminder you can reply directly to oldmanrahul@substack.com, or you can tweet me @oldmanrahul about this edition. Thanks for reading and supporting my writing :)
Controversial take, I like the Underground more than the Cellar. The Cellar’s basically the mecca of comedy, and I love it, but I love the space and feel of the Underground more.
Unless you really go out of your way to dig up a documentary or an early interview on YouTube.
You want inspiration to embrace the awkward start? Checkout the evolution of Mark’s joke on cigarettes v. weed bit.