There Is No Elevator To The Top
🌟Career Coaching: Why the myth of the overnight sensation needs to die.
Mae Martin’s new Netflix series Wayward is being hailed as a breakout hit. Reviewers are calling them an overnight success, the latest in a long line of creators who “came out of nowhere.”
Except they didn’t.
Martin has been writing, performing and clawing their way through the business for years, doing stand-up gigs, podcasts, indie projects, addiction recovery, the works. The applause may be new, but the grind is not. There’s no elevator to the top of this business. Just a lot of stairs and, if you’re lucky, visits to a competent therapist.
As Samuel Goldwyn supposedly said, “Give me a couple of years, and I’ll make that actress an overnight sensation.” Translation: even miracles go through development hell.
Take Sean Wang, who is being celebrated for his film Dìdì. The headlines call him a breakout writer-director. What they don’t mention is that he started that script seven years ago, rewriting, revising and collecting feedback from labs and mentors before it ever hit Sundance. Seven years. That’s two college degrees. Or the time it takes to realize caffeine isn’t a food group.
Then there’s Darius Marder, whose Sound of Metal earned critical acclaim after a decade of labor and side jobs—including work as a chef and food stylist—before anyone handed him an award. He didn’t “emerge.” He cooked, hustled, wrote, edited, and cooked again until the world finally caught up. When the Oscar nod came, it looked like a miracle. But it was just Monday.
None of these people stumbled into success. They worked for it. For years. In an industry that glorifies youth and speed, they remind us that mastery takes time, patience and the occasional meltdown. (If you haven’t cried in a production office, are you even in showbiz?) I mean, I think the timeline for a new musical to reach Broadway is now over a decade.
This business is complicated. You don’t figure it out by instinct or charm, although both help. You learn by being in it. On set, in rehearsal, in the rewrite spiral, in the fundraising panic, on the Zoom where everyone is on the brink of killing someone. You learn from the show that abruptly closes and the short that wins no festival awards but teaches you ten times more than the one that does.
And the “overnight success” myth isn’t just wrong. It’s damaging. It makes the invisible labor of our industry disappear. People outside the business think showbiz is all red carpet appearances and champagne-fueled parties, not incredibly long hours, a lot of unpaid work and sheer stubbornness. When we hide the grind, we devalue the artistry, logistics and craftsmanship that hold it all together. We cheapen the process—and the people—that makes the magic happen.
The good news? The longer it takes, the better equipped you are when your turn finally comes. By then, you’ve survived every shade of chaos. You know how to work with the unions (or avoid them), calm an unnerved actor, and smile through notes that defy logic and grammar. You know the names of people who keep the machine running because you have been one of them.
If you’re still here—still reading the trades, still pitching, still showing up when the call time feels like a personal insult—then congratulations. You’re already ahead of everyone who quit when it got hard. And while you’re building your craft and waiting for that “overnight” moment, make sure you’re also building stability. To survive in this business, especially today, you need multiple income streams to keep you afloat when projects stall, strikes hit and greenlights turn red. (If you’re not sure where to start, then my workshop on November 11th may help.)
This industry isn’t a sprint; it’s a circus with no exit signs. Every hour you spend honing your craft, building relationships and learning from other creatives is experience that can’t be fast-tracked or faked. And then one day when someone calls you an overnight success, just smile and hand them your resume.
Brilliant ! Rings true from my observations but you put it so well, Julie. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻