Good morning 👋🏼 My screen time report this month was...alarming. But instead of spiraling into digital guilt, I’m reframing it as research.

So today you’re getting a curated list of the shows (and a couple creators) that actually stopped my scroll this month. And to be real, I could’ve included a lot more, but I aimed for concise!!

I went ahead and distilled each into a quick hit with a takeaway that gets to the heart of what makes them special. No fluff, just the good stuff.

Now let's praise some internet brilliance (in no particular order!)

Some shows hope for a fandom. Maybe Happy Ending is actively building one. Their social strategy isn’t just about promotion—it’s about participation. By creating content for their most engaged fans, they’ve turned their audience into insiders, making those not in the know feel like they’re missing out.

Their mix? A perfect blend of memes, timely trend-hopping, and their boldest move yet—a livestreaming marathon titled Party Like It’s 2064. On top of that, they’ve been giving understudies the hype they deserve, reinforcing that this show isn’t just about a singular cast—it’s a community.

🥡 The Takeaway: Don’t just market at your audience—make them feel like they’re part of something. Inside jokes, exclusive experiences, and fan-first content don’t just reward existing fans—they create new ones.

Rather than treating The Last Five Years as a tough sell on social, they’ve leaned into what makes it special—intimacy, artistry, and process. They’ve struck a balance between polished, cinematic visuals and intimate, behind-the-scenes content, making the making of the show part of the narrative. From Whitney White’s first day of rehearsal speech to spotlighting standbys, they’ve pulled fans into the process rather than keeping them at arm’s length.

By blending high-engagement formats with raw, unpolished moments from the creative team, they’ve kept the show’s elevated aesthetic while making it feel alive. They’ve turned what could have been a marketing hurdle into an asset, proving that a strong vision can make any production feel urgent and engaging.

🥡 The Takeaway: Process is part of the product. Let your audience in—whether it’s leadership moments, cast insights, or amplifying the people who make the show happen. The more they feel invested, the more they care.

John Proctor Is the Villain isn’t just selling tickets—it’s selling a vibe. The show has positioned itself more like an A24 indie thriller than a traditional play—complete with a cinematic trailer. Every piece of content feels intentional, matching the show’s edginess rather than falling into the usual polished promo cycle.

That strategy extends beyond visuals. Instead of the standard first-day rehearsal montage (my arch nemesis at this point), they shared the first moments of their table read—an unfiltered, intimate choice that pulls audiences into the actual energy of the production. It’s a small shift that makes a big statement.

🥡 The Takeaway: When marketing a bold piece, let the tone of the show drive the strategy. Aesthetic consistency and unexpected choices don’t just build hype—they set the terms for how an audience feels before they even step inside the theater.

Ten years in, and Hamilton is still making every other show look like it's playing catch-up. For their 10th anniversary, they’ve upped the ante again—leaning into meme culture, flashback content, and deep-dive lyric breakdowns to keep fans engaged beyond just nostalgia.

Their sharp, self-aware memes tap into internet culture without feeling forced, while throwback content reminds fans exactly why they fell in love with the show. Ten years later, they’re proving that great marketing isn’t about reinventing the wheel—it’s about keeping it in motion.

🥡 The Takeaway: Legacy brands (and shows!) don’t just live off their past—they activate it. Smart, self-aware content that blends nostalgia with new ways to engage keeps audiences invested for the long haul.

For Black History Month, Jaelle Laguerre created a TikTok series celebrating Black Theatre TikTokers that wasn’t just about content—it was about community. She used her voice to amplify others in a way that felt purposeful and necessary.

By shining a light on fellow creators, she didn’t just celebrate their work—she expanded their reach. The series was a reminder that social media isn’t just about personal brand-building; it’s a tool for uplifting and creating space for others.

🥡 The Takeaway: Visibility is power—sharing it makes a greater impact. Elevating others strengthens both the community and the conversation.

Hannah Solow has singlehandedly kept my feed unhinged, and I am eternally grateful. As the Mary standby in Oh, Mary! , she’s bringing the show’s absurdist energy online with a steady stream of original, bizarre, and wildly funny mini song-videos that feel like a fever dream in the best way.

Her videos are weird, witty, and weirdly catchy—the kind of content that doesn’t just make you laugh, but makes you want to send it to five friends immediately. At a time when the world feels confusing and stressful, her comedy is a reminder that sometimes, the best thing you can do is embrace the chaos.

🥡 The Takeaway: Absurdity is an art form—leaning into it makes content feel fresh, unexpected, and impossible to ignore.

Week one of rehearsals for "All The World's A Stage" at Keen Company wrapped, and with it came the most spectacular case of imposter syndrome I've experienced since... well, the last time I stepped into a rehearsal room.

It's hilariously tragic how these moments we dream about—landing a show, growing a creative project, hitting subscriber milestones—can instantly transform us into anxious puddles of self-doubt. Our brains really said, "Congrats on achieving your goal! As a reward, here's a crushing wave of inadequacy!"

I'm floating my way back to shore now (the cast is phenomenal and it turns out I do actually remember how to sing), but it got me thinking about success and joy and all that existential jazz.

Those external markers of achievement we chase? They're just fancy confetti—they look pretty for a moment but they're gone in a flash. And then you're left with the cleanup.

The sustainable stuff—the real joy—is hidden in the tiny victories that nobody posts about. It's nailing that impossible rhythm after practicing it 47 times in the shower. It's the "I loved the newsletter today" email from a reader. It's making a silly quip that cracks the rehearsal room up.

It's not about collecting validation—it's about spreading little bits of yourself into the world and trusting that it matters. Even when your brain is absolutely convinced that it doesn't.

So if you're feeling like a fraud in some corner of your life right now, please know you're not alone. We're all just making it up as we go, pretending we know what we're doing until eventually, somehow, we actually do.

See you next week ♥️