OUT OF OUR ELEMENT with Dan Malossi and Lauren Roedy Vaughn

(AKA “The Benefits of Teamwork”)

The Players:

LRV = Lauren Roedy Vaughn

DM = Dan Malossi

DM: I’ll admit it here…it’s time I did…

I’m a chronic collaborator.

LRV: Well, as conditions go, this is the one to have…

DM: Yeah, I know this is not a debilitating chronic condition—I mean, it’s not quite the type that requires counseling or (gasp) darkened movie theaters like in the old Times Square…

…but thinking about it now, I started my habit of collaborating before I ever worked solo, back when I formed a band in high school. Hearing music made together—although listening back to the tapes, it’s awful music—was perhaps the single greatest moment of my first 20 years on the planet.

Then, I made it my job for a while, but the thrill was never gone…unlike BB sang.

Then, when all that was over, I was ready to work alone, and so I started writing fiction, which was actually a focus in college. 

I was my own boss again, but something wasn’t quite right.

LRV: That feeling is just part of the chronic condition of being you, Dan. I kid. Go on. 

DM: I acknowledge this with extreme prejudice! But yes…then, much later, I saw a film called A Complete Unknown. Read LRV’s review HERE. Anyway, it’s an incredible film, far better than I expected it to be. I’ve been a Dylan fan forever. Yes, I love his singing. And everything else. He shaped a great deal of what I’ve created as an adult. 

Anyway, there’s a scene where he feels the need to connect with a band…he goes to a bar and is enraptured by a guy he knows playing with a band. Soon after, a crazed fan knocks his block off, but the seed is planted: Dylan hires musicians, goes electric, and the rest is history. Shit, the guy’s been on a Never-ending Tour since like 1998. Like, it never ends. He doesn’t stop touring.

LRV: We do very little on our own in this world. That’s comforting to me. The need to collaborate is a survival instinct. It’s additive, by definition, but its power can be exponential. Meaning: alone, I might just be a 3, but with someone, I get closer to a 9. Or, I might even go to 11…like those Spinal Tap amps…

Ahhh, the power of funny people in groups. A glorious style of collaborating.  And Spinal Tap is  still collaborating. They go to infinity this time!

DM: Another case in point: the 50th anniversary SNL special. I watched a series of docs preceding that, and nothing really shows the value of collaboration more than this version of comedy. I thought so much of comedy was done in isolation…consider your favorite stand-up comic. But comics on podcasts insist it’s almost a collaboration with the audience that helps them toward their best work.

That’s remarkable, but it also shows that, really, artists weren’t meant to live in isolation. In 2015, after writing novels solo for many years, I met LRV at our old literary agency. We connected over a shared love of The Big Lebowski, talked about writing a shared project—all while believing we never really would.

But then we did. And then signed with another literary agency…together. The collaboration worked, which I realize is rare in this setting. Thanks, Lauren.

LRV: Back ‘atcha. I really like it. I thrive with abili-buddies.

DM: Me too! This is why it works for us…and also why it works more often in other media, like music. My recent collaboration with Jon the Guilt has produced the best music I’ve ever made. I realize that’s a relative statement, but it’s true. Thanks, Jon.

I’m not sure of much, but I’m sure of this: if you’re not creating, try collaborating. On anything…a drawing. A poem. A lesson plan. A rinky-dink song on an out-of-tune piano. A thought experiment. ANYTHING.

You’ll thank me later.