Your Voice Is Important, So Start a Podcast

The Guide to Life is exactly what it sounds like: a guide on how to live. The world is entering a different time, so across different verticals at VICE, we're exploring what it means to be alive today, and how you can be your best self. You won't know if you have something interesting to say until you try speaking up. In today's tumultuous times, the world more divided than ever before, we could use more voices to sift through the noise. Always wanted to share your opinions about Trump? Video games? Whether hot dogs are sandwiches? Not long ago, it would have been difficult for the average person to start a podcast, but these days, you barely need to spend any money to start your own Internet show. I've been doing it for years without spending much money and so can you!

First things first: Don't worry if anyone ends up listening to your podcast; that's not the point. If you've ever wanted to have a discussion about a topic but haven't had a decent reason to bring it up among friends or colleagues, podcasts are the perfect venue. If you're not supposed to talk about politics in front of polite company, for example, how else are you supposed to work out your thoughts, opinions, and arguments? The comments sections beneath articles aren't a great place to start—but podcasts are. It's a forced conversation; for a podcast to work, people have to talk. If you have to talk, you have to say something—anything.

Participating in a podcast is different than writing an essay. It's closer to a tweet, where words aren't meant to be a conclusion, but a starting point for arriving at one. Like anything else in life, you're going to suck at it for a long time. Forced conversation is an art, as is finding your voice and learning group dynamics.

For the better part of two years, I recorded a podcast called Match 3 with game critic Gita Jackson and educator Sam Phillips. I found myself really giving a shit about politics, culture, and the way those intersect with my passion and career, games, but not having those kinds of simulating conversations with anyone in real-life. So, I conjured a podcast. When Gita agreed to record the podcast with me, I asked her to pick the third host; the unknown was the appeal. And by seeking out people whose life experiences were vastly different than mine, it helped ensure those conversations wouldn't follow a known path.

(Match 3 recently concluded its run, as Gita moved to New York for a job and my first child was born, but the archives still exist. I'm proud of our 72 episodes.)

My other podcast, the one I don't record nearly enough, is 'Til Death Do Us Part, where my wife and I discuss horror movies. The two of us first bonded over a love of crappy horror flicks, spending hours on the couch drinking cheep beer and working our way through the seemingly endless Puppet Master films. We've been together for more than 10 years now, and though we still watch lots of horror movies, we're typically in bed a few minutes after the credits roll. "Did you enjoy that?" "Yeah." "Me too." [snooze] But we both knew our feelings were more complicated than that, so we started 'Til Death Do Us Part as a reason to check out even more horror films and force ourselves to have a deeper discussion about what we were watching. It's been rewarding to watch her grow more confident as a podcaster, and squeal with joy when someone reaches out and says "I'm really glad you said this on the podcast. Thank you." Not many people listen to it, but 'Til Death Do Us Part is mostly for ourselves, and that's just fine with me.

Recording a podcast doesn't require anything fancy. You can do it, too.

If you do a Google search for the term "podcast studio,", you might think podcasting is beyond you. Don't. Recording a decent-sounding podcast doesn't require an expensive mixing board, foam padding on the walls to make the acoustics better, or microphones running through fancy XLR cables. Remember, most people listen to podcasts through shitty Apple headphones.

For 'Till Death Do Us Part, it's just a Blue Snowball microphone ($70) and Blue Yeti microphone ($130) feeding into GarageBand on a Mac, with sound levels mixed automatically by a free software program called Levelator. (If you're on Windows, you can use Audacity, which is free, to edit and record your podcast.) Not in the same room? Is Levelator one step too far? The online service Zencastr (also free, as long as you're only recording with two people) will record and sync your podcast automatically. (Mixing costs extra, so just download Levelator.) I've used it before and it's fantastic.

Wait, you want video? That's easy. Google's group messaging service, Hangouts, has the ability to stream live, and you don't have to fuss with streaming software like Xsplit and OBS. (I you want to get fancy with images, music, and transitions, you will need that. OBS is free!) And when you finish a live Hangout, Google automatically uploads the video to YouTube.

Hell, you don't even need a "microphone" to record a podcast. If you're reading this on a phone, there's a good chance that device already fits the bill; I've recorded interview podcasts on my iPhone over the years and they sound terrific. Perfect? No. But they get the job done, which is what's really important.

I can see podcasts vets grilling me over this: "These podcasts will sound like shit!" Who cares? The point of recording a podcast is the act of doing. It's easy to let thoughts sit and dance in your head, it's harder to articulate those feelings and share them with the world. Given what we're about to go through over the next (hopefully only) four years, your voice is sorely needed. Society is better when more people are speaking up. Don't worry about how it sounds. Just hit record.

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