I'm lucky.
Not because I occasionally book acting jobs or have an agent that believes in me, though that is how I would have categorized luck before.
My valuation of luck was skewed though, and I was doing nothing to improve it. I scoffed at gratitude journals. Why bother? All I need is to look in my son's sparkling eyes to feel blessed. But I was missing the full expression of gratitude.
Acting classes are expensive.
Let me rephrase that. Acting classes are totally necessary... and really, really expensive.
If you're like me, you might belong to several acting-related websites that send you daily deals for everything from reel production to teeth whitening. Every so often, I'm tempted to click "buy" for a discounted class, but then I stop myself. When I do the research, it often becomes clear that the discounted class is not the one that's right for me at this stage of the game. And I know it's risky, but I'd rather take no class at all, than waste my money on the wrong class. Especially considering the clout training with distinguished names and institutions can carry on your resume.
For me, it's just better to wait for the right class at the right time. This takes patience, most of which I've used up parenting my two-year old, but somehow I've managed to stay the course.
If you're an Olympics nerd like me you are sorely sleep deprived at this point of the games. I can't get enough of each competition, even the completely obscure events I've never been interested in before. One reason is how much inspiration I draw from elite level athletes. As an actor, I feel there are several correlations between what we do everyday and what the Olympic athletes are going through in London. Sure, the scale and exposure are different, but we train, sacrifice, show up prepared and attempt to perform at our best under immense pressure. And whether we sport the jaw-droppingly chiseled physiques of Olympians or have settled comfortably into a cushy muffin-top, one thing can sabotage us all, and that is being unable to control our minds.
Another thing also connects us: Nobody really wants the silver medal. I know, I know. Everybody is thrilled to compete and get on the medal podium, but how do you feel when you've prepared, primped and promptly arrived for your audition, given it your all, battled your mental demons (nerves), and managed to knock it out of the park only to have your agent call the next day with a first refusal? Silver's nice, but everyone wants gold.
As I write this I have four different outfits for three different auditions/meetings and one potential callback packed away in my bag for tomorrow. Sound familiar?
It is often said, "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." While this is true in most careers, it can be crucial for the auditioning actor. What you wear (or don't wear) to an audition is a huge part of the first impression, and can have a lot to do with how casting directors perceive you and how far you'll go in the casting process for a particular job.
Even so, how specific do you prefer a CD to get in prescribing the audition wardrobe?
I've had two auditions lately that made me utter an audible, "Really???" when I received the audition wardrobe instructions.
It's important to take breaks from time to time. I think anytime you start to get that frazzled, desperate, or hopeless feeling in this business, you owe it to yourself to take a step back. It doesn't have to be a long period of time. You could just give yourself the day off, or a mere couple of hours when you aren't submitting and auditioning, networking and marketing, dreaming and scheming. People in other careers do that often. Some even give themselves two days. It's called a "weekend". And I hear it's wonderful.
But as actors we are so terrified to step back, even for a minute, for fear that all our hard work will come to a screaching halt, and we'll be forgotten. But what's worse? That you continue grinding away, even when your mood could use some improvement, and you come off as an overextended stressball? Or would you rather take a moment to decompress and re-evaluate from a slightly removed perspective so that you can return refreshed?
I've heard a few agents say that going to an audition is a lot like "buying a lottery ticket", suggesting that booking a job is as likely as striking it rich. Obviously, I have a problem with this. First of all, it suggests that booking work is a random occurrence that has nothing to do with talent, skill, preparation, or any of the other myriad elements that go into working your career. This gives lazy actors the excuse to do nothing on their own behalf. And it makes proactive actors seem foolish for thinking they can effect the outcome of their endeavors through deliberate preparation.
The other day I received the call many actors both dream of and fear: The last minute, zero advance notice "This is your moment, here is your break, go to this place right now for this amazing opportunity that could change your life, so go, go now, be amazing, and whatever you do, don't blow it!" kind of phone call that only comes around so often.
I recently found myself in one of those audition situations where I truly felt I had no business being there. It was for a medium in which I'm still training and gaining experience. My agent had given me a slight breakdown the night before, and while most of the details were strangely hush-hush, I could tell that I wasn't really right for the part.
"Oh well", I thought. "I'm not gonna type myself out of a role. There's plenty of people there that will do it for me. My job is to show up."
Who knows? Perhaps they were bringing me in for variety. Perhaps they weren't sure what they wanted and had offered the initial breakdown as a template, but were open to more liberal interpretations of the part. I confirmed the audition.
Ironically, the weeks that followed my last post, entitled Catching Fire, could plainly be described as "dousing the flames." If you read that post you'll remember that I was feeling my career taking off. I'd had several months of fairly consistent acting employment, so much so that I had little time for my stability job or blogging. Then I had a tremendously busy week of gigs, abundant auditions, and amazing feedback. I managed to cram more into one week than I had some months. I felt unstoppable!
Then everything came to a screeching halt.
Don't be concerned, nothing tragic happened. But that's the problem, nothing happened. And that's why it's tragic.
Last week was a WHIRLWIND! I'll cautiously say that it felt like something in my career caught fire, (in a good way) and I'm still blissed out and catching my breath while I try to process it all.
Since I returned to acting, I've been doing whatever I can to meet the Casting Directors working on the kinds of projects I'm pursuing. I've had modest success, but before last week there were still some targeted offices I wasn't getting into. All of a sudden, something happened! (Perhaps it was that crazy super moon?) Three of the big CD's I'd been hoping to get in front of all called me in within a few days of each other.
I've been thinking a lot lately about finding a specialty as an actor. I know we're supposed to be versatile enough to do anything, but let's be honest. Most established talents find a niche and stick with it because that's what works. Tina Fey doesn't go from doing "30 Rock" to starring in four-hour period dramas. She stays in her wheel house, making wry comedies, and makes an excellent living doing what she's exceptionally good at.
Lately I've been working steadily in commercials and industrials, with a little print and voice over work thrown in here and there. Of course the assumption is that I'm biding my time until I get a juicy role in a tv show, play or movie. When I tell people I'm working on a commercial, sometimes I get replies such as, "That's great! When will we see you in television and film?" And I don't think they mean "see you in television" as in my latest ad. I hate to disappoint, but the truth is that I'm pretty darn happy right now, doing what I'm doing.
I recently began working with a commercial agent. (YAY!) And the lesson I've learned from this so far is that nudity is a funny thing.
Allow me to explain.
The first audition my agent sent me on happened to take place in Philadelphia, the city where I went to undergrad and remained for a few years afterwards doing regional theatre and a few local commercials. It was fantastic to go back, even for a brief time, but before I had a chance to get too nostalgic, my pants ripped.
I have a confession. I intentionally misled someone a few weeks ago in order to light a fire under my very own tush.
(We say "tush" in my house now because there's a two-year old who repeats things.)
But back to how I'm a dirty liar. A colleague misunderstood when I said I do some writing, and exclaimed, "Oh, thank God, you WRITE! You've got to make your own work these days!" I was actually talking about this blog, not scripts, and I considered correcting him.... but I didn't.
Though it's taken me a few days to feel like a person again, I survived my overnight shoot!!!
I received several helpful tips after my last post, which you can read here, and I'd like to share with you what worked for me.
Anyone pulled any all-nighters recently?
If so, I need all your tricks. I have an overnight shoot this weekend, and I'm really not sure how to prepare.
Oddly enough, if this were taking place a couple of years ago, when I had a newborn at home, it would have been a piece of cake. Back then I had a few months to adjust to a schedule only a zombie could love, and eventually discovered I could function quite well on very little sleep, though some days were better than others, and no one was asking me to memorize pages and pages of very technical dialogue.
(With the hormones screaming through my body at that time no one would have DARED!)
But on Sunday night, I will be in full hair and make-up, hopefully working it like nobody's business, while many in this time zone will be nestled in bed, dreaming peacefully.
Wow.... I had the most illuminating audition this week.
A few posts ago I wrote about a busy week of auditions I'd had, and the rejection and successes therein. (Read that post here.) In particular, there was one audition that week that left me feeling particularly cranky and self-critical.
It was a commercial spot that required a sexy vibe. My brand isn't overtly sexy, but the spot was classy and tasteful. I was curious to see if I could amp up the sexy a bit, so I submitted.
I have an actor friend whom I like to call my "Acting Angel". From the moment that I returned to acting, she has been an enormous help and source of support. She gives me leads on where to find auditions, services I should use, agents I should get in touch with, classes I should take... You name it, and she's given me an incredibly valuable tip about it. I'm always amazed and grateful for her generosity of spirit, and this month I had the chance to pay it forward, which felt great.
A while back, I posted about my dislike of networking, and how I'm tackling it by giving it a new name ("making friends") and convincing myself that I enjoy it. The person I spoke about in that post actually appears in this one, and the following is proof that networking works, people.
There's a casting office I've been trying to claw my way into, who finally gave me an audition last week. The tricky part was that, while they said I could go in alone, they strongly encouraged me to bring someone else along, with whom I have a good rapport, and can speak candidly. It was evening when I got the call, and this person had to be ready to go to the audition with me the next morning. I contacted a few of my close actor friends, all of whom had unbreakable commitments, and then a lovely man I'd met at a workshop popped into my head. I'd really enjoyed talking to him and getting to know him through Facebook, so I reached out. He responded immediately with excitement, and so we agreed to meet the next morning to catch up a little before the audition.
Auditions can be nerve-wracking enough when there's only yourself to worry about, so having another person that I'd personally selected accompanying me, with his own nerves, expectations, and adrenaline, was a scary prospect. And since this was an office I'd been trying to get into, I would really have preferred to have only myself to worry about. But let me tell you, this guy nailed it! He was warm, funny, open, interesting, and so easy to connect with when the camera was rolling. I was thrilled! This is a note to myself, that when a fellow actor gives you an opportunity like this, and you bring it like it was brought by this guy, you will have a friend for life. I was so grateful for his professionalism, and so thrilled with our audition that it was no surprise when we got a callback a few days later!
Often we focus on the competition in this town, and how that can cause actors to behave abominably to one another at times. (I blogged about that here.) But I've also met some of the kindest, most helpful and most generous actors since I returned to the business this summer, and that gives me hope.
So I'd encourage you to help a fellow actor today, even if it's just in some small way. It'll come back to you ten-fold, but that's not why you do it. We're all in this together, and who knows better what you're going through than that girl in line behind you at the open call? Hold her place while she goes to the bathroom.
(Photo by Cathryn Lundgren)
This week I had four auditions and a meeting with an agent.
Really, I'm not bragging.
It was a very busy week for me, but I say this to illustrate a point. From those five instances of putting myself out there, I have received one callback so far. I am over the moon about the callback.
And the other four opportunities that may have rejected me, plus the countless others I submitted for that chose not to even bring me in for an audition? Like I said, I'm over the moon about the callback.
See, I can handle rejection. It's as much a part of this business as headshots and handshakes.
We all know the odds in this business, and they are not greatly in our favor. But what happens when you begin to hold yourself to a standard higher than the odds may allow? I've been wrestling with this lately, and I go back and forth between being proud of my high standards, and wondering if I should ease off a little, and cut myself a break sometimes.
Recently I had coffee with a filmmaker I admire. We were discussing some opportunities he'd just been offered, based on a successful documentary he'd made. After hearing about one ridiculous gimmick in particular, I responded, "But that goes so against your brand!" He paused for a moment, studying me, then said, "That's the first time anyone's said "brand" in conversation with me where I haven't wanted to throw up." I smiled, relieved, but immediately hoped I hadn't annoyed him.
But I understood exactly what he meant. I too have had a difficult time committing to the whole process of branding. Aren't actors supposed to fight against being typed? This was what I believed branding amounted too, and so I stuck my fingers in my ears and screamed, "La, la, la!" whenever anyone mentioned the "B" word. Besides, I knew how to submit to castings, so I figured I knew my brand.
I had an icky-sticky situation occur on set yesterday, and I just can't seem to wash away the resentment. I suppose I'm in need of some perspective. (That's where you come in, dear reader.) I'm still not quite sure how I should have handled it, or how to let it go and move on.
