Say Goodnight And Go

I had eight auditions and two callbacks over a three week period: one feature film, two commercials, a student film, a low-budget short, and three theatre auditions for which I received two callbacks. This is a dream situation for any actor. Sure, they were all pretty equally broken up over three different cities (the Golden Triangle of MTL-OTT-TO), and I never spent more than two days in the same city throughout that time, but it happened. This is amazing. This is incredible. This has never happened to me before and it is exactly where I want to be, right? Well, sort of. Auditions are great, they really are, but I want to work, paid work, so I can maybe actually settle somewhere for a little while, you know, perhaps more than a week... gosh, wouldn't that be nice?

The unwritten rule of thumb for actors is that you are doing well if you happen to book 1 out of every 10 auditions. Of all of them, I booked the student film. Which is awesome and I totally did a bit of a happy dance at the prospect of being the lead in a film, even if I don't get paid for it. I'll talk more about it later on, but I'm really looking forward to finally getting some material that I can use for a demo reel in the hopes of booking more (paying) work in the future.

I'd like to say that it doesn't bother me when I don't get the gig. That after all this time I am soooooooo beyond that and everything just slides right off my back. Or that maybe I was lazy and didn't prepare enough and so it's my own fault I didn't get it. But I know that's not the case. Not this time. I've risked too much to be lazy. I worked my ass off for every single one of these auditions. I met up with a partner to work on monologues and scenes. I hired a coach. I was in a play, so that initial "desperation" for work didn't creep in because I was already working. Everything was aligned.

But not really.

One after another, in comes the "thank you very much" speech. If you're lucky, because sometimes it doesn't even come in at all. So I got bummed. I didn't want to because logically, I know how this works, that I can't take it personally and...

Oh fuck that shit! I took it personally. I did. You put too much of yourself into this job not to. I had a pity party where the DJ played variations of the Top 40 hit "Nobody in this Town Wants to Hire You as a Performer," the country blues classic "I'd Have a Drink, but my Doctor Told Me Not To," the smooth power ballad "Love Walks Away from Losers," and the raging punk rock anthem "Fuck You (Building a Career Out of Spite)." Albums are on sale now. Just send me $9.99 via Paypal and I'll send you your very own copy. All proceeds go to Nancy's Roller Derby Fund.

Because after the party was over and all was said and done. I picked myself back up, which is incredibly easy to do if you're sober (imagine that!) and went back to work. I met with my director for my upcoming Roller Derby show. We hacked away at the script until I'm almost starting up again from scratch. And I'm ok with that. It felt good to see he got some of what I was trying to say and could articulate the parts I knew weren't working but couldn't understand why. I have a structure now, which is great, and I can move forward.

Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat. Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat. Run, stumble, fall. Get up. Repeat.

Just make sure you get up.