You'll never catch up

Reframe this source of creative stress

As I write this, I’m thinking about everything I “need” to watch.

(Note: I’ve been trying not to write these newsletters too far ahead of time, but to prepare for this year’s Camp NaNoWriMo, I’m letting myself write and schedule this April newsletter in February.)

TV shows alone could be enough to keep me busy. I’m two episodes into Yellowjackets and impatient to see what happens next. I’ve started watching Modern Family, one of the few massive TV comedies I’ve somehow never gotten around to, and the characters are so fully realized from the first episode and it’s so good but also, like, 11 seasons is a LOT of episodes. I’m watching American Auto, not because it’s good yet but because I will give almost any NBC comedy at least one season before I bail. We still have three glorious episodes of Ted Lasso left to watch, and I’m not sure if that’s a brag or the total discrediting of my entire reputation as a Recommender of Things. Also, I’m halfway through this season of Emily in Paris and I just don’t know if the clothes and French drama can propel me through when there is so much else to watch.

And of course, it’s not just TV. I “need” to watch movies from this year’s Oscar selection, and so far I’ve only seen Dune (I’m almost alone in this, I know, but it wasn’t my jam). In past years, I’ve watched every single movie nominated for Best Picture, but this time, I’m trying my best to make it through three or four of them. As is typical, I have an unrealistic stack of library books begging for my attention, and there are about a million podcast episodes out there that I would like to have listened to.

What I’m trying to say is that — like every single one of you — I have a finite amount of time, and the world of content is endless. I will never catch up. You will never catch up. There will always be that TV show everyone is talking about that you kept meaning to watch and now it’s five seasons in and you absolutely do not have time for five seasons of TV. Every Tuesday, more books come out, even though you’re returning half your library books unread because you don’t have enough reading time. You will never, ever, ever be caught up on all of your podcasts because the moment you are, you’ll discover a new podcast you somehow missed that has 200+ episodes.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to “keep up” with everything, I think it’s time to reframe the content we’re taking in.

Let’s use food as an analogy (note: I almost always use food as an analogy … because it works!).

We treat this endless world of content like a meal where we’re supposed to finish our plate. There’s the food you’re most excited to eat, and there’s always that one side dish that you’re not into but you’ll eat it because it’s polite.

There’s the TV show you want to binge-watch, and there’s the Paul Thomas Anderson movie you’ll sit through because you don’t want to be left out, but let’s be real, Magnolia was great but you couldn’t follow Punch-Drunk Love and you weren’t into Phantom Thread.

Take a look at your plate: the podcast you’ve neglected for several weeks and now feel super behind on, the TV show you’re trying to finish even though it jumped the shark last season, the movie you know you “should” watch even though you’re not excited about it.

OK, take that plate and toss it out the window.

Now, picture those barrels of candy in a general store that were so intriguing to you as a kid. They seemed endless, right? You hoped your parents would buy you a bag of lemon drops and maybe some taffy, but you would never expect yourself to eat your way through an entire barrel.

For me, some of those barrels are …

• Podcasts about TV shows I loved (Office Ladies and Welcome to Our Show are two great examples)

• Weird little indie movies nobody else has heard of

• My endless To Be Read list of books

• My Hulu queue of TV shows, including The X-Files and Modern Family (each 11 seasons long)

Instead of thinking of books, movies, TV shows, music, podcasts, etc. as something we need to take in completely from beginning to end, as if this wide world of content were a meal we’re trying to finish, I think you should put everything you’re excited about into buckets and assume you’ll never get all the way down to the bottom.

Yes, I know (and very much enjoy) that little zing of accomplishment that comes from finishing a book or completing a TV series or watching every Best Picture nomination in an Oscar season. No, I don’t think it’s good for your brain to start and not finish 1000 different TV shows. Stories should also stretch us, and if you’re only taking in stories that are easy to consume, you may need to check in and see if you need to expand your watching, reading, and listening horizons.

That being said … I want to stay excited about the things I’m excited about. I could feel behind because I’m listening to the Office Ladies, Parks and Recollection, and Welcome to Our Show podcasts and definitely can’t take in every episode, or I could be happy that we live in a time when we have unprecedented access to the creative minds behind our favorite TV shows.

Creativity is inspired by first being intrigued by something: a topic, an idea, an aspect of human nature that you’ve never noticed before. The interests that call to you — in the form of a beloved TV show, a new podcast, a favorite book — could turn into something more if you give them space and let them grow. On the other hand, the quickest way to kill an interest is to turn it into a source of homework, pressure, and stress, and aren’t we all stressed about enough things in 2022?

Accept it, and be excited: You’ll never catch up.