I started 'SNL,' and I became the one who did impressions. I did

In the words of Bill Hader, comedian, actor, and master of transformation, there is revealed a truth that reaches far beyond the stage of Saturday Night Live: “I started ‘SNL,‘ and I became the one who did impressions. I did that, but then I wanted to get an original character on, and that took a long time to get one on that stuck. And then I got Vinny Vedecci on – ‘Oh great’ – and then it took a couple more seasons to get Greg the Alien on. You have to have some patience.” His reflection is not only the story of an entertainer’s craft, but a parable of perseverance, of the long road to creation, and of the glory of endurance in the pursuit of originality.

At first, Hader was marked as the man of impressions, skilled in capturing the likeness and mannerisms of others. This was a noble gift, yet one that tethered him to the shadows of existing personalities. He yearned to create something truly original, to bring forth characters from his own imagination, and to see them live in the minds of audiences. But such a journey was not swift. Like the sculptor who chips at stone for years before the form emerges, he found that originality is born slowly, through persistence and trial.

The appearance of Vinny Vedecci, the Italian talk-show host character, was a moment of triumph—proof that his efforts had borne fruit. Yet even then, the path was not easy, for he still had to wait, labor, and endure before another creation, Greg the Alien, would take root in the hearts of viewers. This slow unfolding is the heart of his teaching: that success is not a single strike of lightning, but the steady gathering of storms, each one building upon the last.

History offers us mirrors of this truth. Consider the work of Michelangelo, who did not unveil the Sistine Chapel overnight, but toiled for years under strain, doubt, and fatigue, waiting for the vision to fully manifest. Or recall Thomas Edison, whose countless failures preceded the single invention that would illuminate the world. Both labors demanded what Hader himself names: patience—that steady virtue without which no creation endures.

The meaning of the quote, then, is that originality and greatness demand time. To imitate is quick, for one follows the path another has already carved. But to create something new requires faith and endurance through seasons of rejection, doubt, and delay. Hader’s story is the story of every creator who seeks not merely to echo, but to invent: the journey is long, but the reward is eternal.

There is also humility in his confession. He does not deny the struggle, nor pretend that triumph came easily. Instead, he speaks plainly of the slow climb—how it took “a couple more seasons” before his second great creation found its place. This honesty itself is wisdom, for it reminds us that delay is not defeat, and that perseverance is often the truest mark of mastery.

The lesson for us is clear: whether in art, in work, or in life, do not despair if your efforts take years to bear fruit. Embrace patience, for it is the companion of all true creators. Continue to labor, to refine, to offer your work even when the world does not yet celebrate it. For the day will come, as it did for Bill Hader, when your creations will take root, and all the years of waiting will be revealed as preparation.

So let these words be a torch to guide you: do not measure success by speed, but by endurance. Be willing to begin with impressions, but strive always for originality. And above all, cultivate patience, for it is the soil in which the seeds of creativity grow into lasting harvests. For those who endure, as Hader did, will one day look back and see that every season of waiting was not wasted, but necessary, shaping the foundation of their triumph.