60 Things I've Learned After a Month of Podcasting and 1000 Downloads
Welcome to my TED talk
So I’ve started a podcast. Maybe you’ve noticed.
I thought I’d share what I’ve learned, like an AMA where I provide all the questions and answers.
Starting your own podcast is one of the leading signs of megalomania.
I totally made that up but wouldn’t be surprised to discover it’s true. The ego required to believe people will listen to you prattle on about God knows what is second only to thinking people are anxious to read your work.
In case you wondered: Sharing podcasting lessons after only a month indicates a perfectly normal ego.
I’m not up on the literature but I believe an average-sized ego is about 5 inches.
Fortunately for men everywhere, the lawless Wild West of the clothing industry has compromised women’s ability to estimate sizes.
It’s surprisingly difficult to make yourself speak into a microphone the first time.
It doesn’t help that the record button looks like a stop sign. I’d prefer a green circle with a thumbs up emoji.
You should record a few podcasts just for yourself, just to get comfortable with talking into a mic.
This is the Just the Tip rule of podcasting.
You will probably release those early episodes anyway, because spoken words seem nearly as precious as written ones, and you will hate wasting them.
You will noticeably level up every episode and feel slightly less like a recluse forced out into the sunlight.
This is what non-writers call confidence.
The fastest way to get over your inborn hatred of your own voice is editing endless hours of it. Like seeing the code in The Matrix, I don’t even hear myself anymore. I just hear the content. “Person, woman, man, camera, TV.”
You’re going to fumble your words, and interject “umm” and “ahh” way more than you think you would. (My favorite is saying “but” followed by a pause so large it seems like Sir Mix-a-Lot homage.) You can easily edit those out, potentially at the expense of sounding organic. Unless it’s really egregious, I leave the verbal ticks.
The best way to avoid filling the silence with nonsense words is having a clear idea of what you’re going to say.
Some people use scripts. I prefer bullet points because I’m lazy.
Running games like Dungeons & Dragons straight off the dome is great practice for podcasting. You get used to the terrifying sensation of facing an audience with only a vague idea of what you’re going to say, and then weaving magic out of thin air.
That’s one of the dorkiest things I’ve ever written.
I guess improv comedy works as podcast training, too. People seem to enjoy laughing.
Speaking of laughing—I laugh at myself during recordings, and leave the laughs in. Once I snorted in laughter, which is obviously the height of impropriety.
If you really screw up, just take a second and try again.
“Fix it in post” is a lifestyle.
I got a $50 mic and, belatedly, a $20 mic arm. I use GarageBand to record and edit, which is free for Mac. The quality is fine. Don’t overthink it.
Before I was a writer, I spent years curating a library of writing books. Sometimes I’d even read them. It’s really easy to do things adjacent to the thing you want to do, and fool yourself into thinking you’re making progress.
The only way to learn how to do anything is to do that thing.
Solo podcasting is a great way to start. You just need a topic. Something you feel passionate and (hopefully) knowledgeable about.
The best way to solo podcast is to just pretend you’re engrossed in a great one-sided conversation with someone who hangs on your every word.
Once you get over the head games, podcasting is fun. I actually look forward to podcasting.
Until it’s time to actually record. Imposter syndrome strikes again.
Podcasting is like sex—it’s better with someone else. And also less embarrassing.
Bringing on a guest introduces organizational hurdles—scheduling, topics, recording minutia—but is totally worth the price.
A great guest means an interesting conversation where you do half the work and get all the credit.
Be magnanimous in victory. Let the guest showcase their knowledge and wit. Give them a chance to plug what they’re working on.
For the love of all that’s holy, don’t treat your guest like the Academy treated Cuba Gooding Jr. If you have outro music, save it for your own end-of-the-pod spiel.
It’s easier to have interesting conversations if you know interesting people.
Start a publication related to your podcast’s subject matter. Invite brilliant writers to join you. Cultivate the relationships until they consider you a friend. Harvest what you have sown.
I understand that step may not be exactly repeatable.
As the saying goes, the best time to start a publication was 5-10 years ago.
Actually, the best best time to start a publication was probably the early 2000s when the internet was flush with cash and optimism. The next-best time was 5-10 years ago, before AI threatened to reduce the value of everything to zero.
A less-optimum but still-okay time to start a publication is today.
Today always beats never.
The key to success in most things is just starting. And also to keep going. Otherwise you’re a quitter.
“Do a podcast, or do not. There is no try.” ~ Yoda, probably
If you don’t have a publication from which to select guests, reach out to writers because they are usually deep thinkers and often have interesting things to say.
Writers value affirmation more than anything else. Which means they’ll come on for free if you ask nicely and tell them they’re the bestest, most smartest writer.
That’s what Cuba Gooding Jr. meant when he told Jerry Maguire to “show me the money.” Money is nice, but it’s more about what money conveys.
The only thing harder than making yourself speak into a microphone is telling people you have spoken into a microphone.
Having an email newsletter is a gentle way of easing into the promotion pool.
If you want to grow, you need to get comfortable telling people what you’re doing.
If you’re clever, you can write something related to the podcast that serves as an introduction to the podcast. But it only works if you’re subtle.
It takes me roughly 5 hours to prepare, record, and edit a podcast.
A weekly schedule is ideal and just doable for someone doing this as a side-gig to their side-gig. I’ve lost track of so many good podcasts because their release schedule was based entirely around their whim, which is unknowable. And obviously their podcast is about me, so it was all super disconcerting.
Podcasts should show up every week, on the same day, without fail. It should become part of the fabric of the listener’s life. Like the garbage man.
Substack is a neat place to host your podcast because it both feeds your mailing list and helps it grow. It’s a full circle kinda deal.
The podcast feedback loop is a black hole. If you thought writing into the void was bad, trying talking into it.
If people keep downloading, you must be doing something right.
I have no idea if 1000 total downloads is good or bad.
It seems good. But I’m no expert.
Is there anything I didn’t cover that you’re curious about? Let ‘er rip in the comments.
"Before I was a writer, I spent years curating a library of writing books. Sometimes I’d even read them. It’s really easy to do things adjacent to the thing you want to do, and fool yourself into thinking you’re making progress."
LOL. How dare you! I feel personally attacked by this!
This is a great list, so many things I found also.
I might check out that mic you linked. I've had trouble with the one I bought being super quiet. I record using Audacity, and think it's just an issue with the mic itself. I have a pair of small clip on mics that connect via bluetooth and they sound perfectly fine, while the wired mic needs a boost in order to be heard.
Also, #51 is the hard one for me. I feel so weird telling people about my podcast, it's so vulnerable!