Rejection. It’s what’s for dinner. And breakfast. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, brunch. In this episode, Ryan, Misty, Kyle, and Pete dive headfirst into the creative gauntlet of being told, in increasingly poetic ways, that their babies are ugly. Kyle kicks things off with a rejection letter so well-crafted it deserves its own rejection from the Pushcart Prize. Misty breaks down the unglamorous labor of being a gatekeeper at Lionsgate, Ryan shares a deeply relatable five-minute sadness rule, and Pete reveals he processes pain through footwear and paper products. As one does.
From there, we launch into the writer’s block TED Talk no one asked for but everyone needs. Ryan makes a compelling case that writer’s block isn’t a real thing—it’s just fear in a trench coat—and the gang explores the odd rituals, inner critics, and coffee shop migrations that accompany the daily quest to get words on a page. There’s talk of NaNoWriMo (RIP), vomit drafts, and why sometimes you just need to write the worst possible version so Future You can come in with a cape and fix it.
Then, like any respectable artistic salon, the episode devolves gloriously into chaotic Mad Libs. First, Misty guides the group through a make-your-own creative process confession. Then Pete unleashes a faux-pretentious artist statement so disturbingly accurate it may have been plagiarized from a Brooklyn gallery wall. It includes polyester, Marco Polo, Aunt Pat’s canning club, and the philosophical meaning of “baby squirrel and rollerblades.”
Plus, you’ll hear two new “Sponsors”—one from the return of The Other Orange and another featuring Gandalf’s Discount Used Automobiles, because of course. If you leave this episode feeling totally normal, congratulations: you’re doing it wrong.
