On risk and rejection, part twelve
See, I told ya there'd be more. And as you can see from the title, there is no success listed tonight. I auditioned for plays that are part of a shorts festival. (Supposedly they are one-acts, but since no play is longer than 15 minutes, that's really stretching it.) My play had not been chosen, and that's okay, b/c PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES isn't really ready and UNCHARTED TERRITORY is too long and wouldn't have fit in. (I actually think either of D.'s two 10-minute plays would have worked well, but that's just me.) Anyway, I really wasn't in the mood to go tonight. An online friend from California was in town, and we'd been waiting a long time to meet, and finally got to, but only for about an hour (which sucked). It was a beautiful day out today, too, 75 and sunny, terribly rare in Boston, and we could have had a wonderful dinner outdoors (we did stroll and chat a bit, which was very nice). Instead, I hurried off to Somerville, delivered a two-minute monologue from UNCHARTED TERRITORY, "The Boyfriend" (which went better than usual, I have to admit--I got quite a few laughs and nice applause afterwards), and then waited to read a side.
I did ead one, from the play D. is directing (though I'm clearly not 50 years old, but whatever), then waited, and finally read another side from a cool play about a superhero. Alas, I don't feel I did a good reading--too over the top--and I could tell from the lack of response I got from the directors (both of whom see VERY young and I wonder how much experience they have). I was already feeling rather down, listening to Keane "Everybody Changes" (quite the mournful song), and having no confidence that I would be asked to read another side or, if I were, that I would be cast. There were actually two other plays, maybe three, I would have LOVED to have read for, but was not asked to. One in particular, about a 30 year old woman who gets a date from an agency for her birthday, was really fun and I could totally relate to it. Yes, I KNOW I'm not 30, but my situation is a lot like hers (except I am clearly not getting over a bad relationship, b/c there haven't been any relationships to get over!), and I could have played this role, I know it. But I wasn't asked to read, so it won't happen, and I doubt I'll get cast in the other two. So there's another night where I was paraded out like an animal, made to wait painfully, came away saddened, and will receive the rejection call or email tomorrow, I've no doubt.
After I had read my second side and was told I could go (Gee, thanks for the release from prison), D. came over and said I'd done a nice job, not to feel badly or be overly critical of myself, and that there were a lot of good actors there. That, of course, is code for "You won't get cast," and so another fruitless audition passes. I decided then and there that I was NOT going to audition for any more plays unless specifically asked to, and the only tough thing is being true to this pledge. It's like a bloody drug, this acting thing, but auditions are not good for me, and there really is no high, since I don't get cast. There's the dream, the fantasy, that I WILL get cast and I'll get to have the fun of acting and being part of a community--stop me if you've heard this one before--but I really know the chances are slim to none, and it's not a self-fulfilling prophecy, as I really give it my all, but more the fact that there are far too many actors and far too parts for 42 year olds, even 42 year olds who could be in their mid-30s (since most parts are for women in their 20s to early 30s, women in their 50s and 60s, and men, men, and more men, though there were few men in the room and tons of women, naturally).
The rather ironic part of the evening is that after I gave my monologue, a nice woman, also auditioning, complimented me on it and said, "Have you performed that anywhere? You should. And has it won any awards?" This naturally made me feel great, and also nudged me yet again in the "Why the hell aren't you just writing and NOT auditioning anymore?!" place deep and not so deep in my heart and my mind. I realize it--I'm a far better writer than an actor, and perhaps more significantly, there are far more opportunities for me to write than act, as my age and gender has nothing whatsoever to do with whether a play of mine will get accepted (unless the festival is seeking only women writers, in which case I have the advantage). I have to just accept this fact and move on, and if I do, just maybe a casting opportunity will arise, but not by looking for it. It's like dating--it's not working out, so why keep torturing myself? It is true that I could be extraordinarily surprised and find out tomorrow that I was in fact cast, but this is extremely unlikely, so I'll just concede defeat and move on.
It's something I have to watch all the time--this allure of acting, so strong that I'm willing to go through the pain to get to the pleasure. The difference is that there is rarely pleasure but there's a lot of pain, and why the hell do I keep hoping for something so unattainable? Somebody, please stop me next time I say, I have an audition tomorrow, I beg you!!! Meanwhile, I should have some time on Sunday to do some writing, and I just need to get down to it. It can't be coincidental that I keep getting compliments on it (it's just that it's all happening in a short time span), so why not go with the thing that works? Good bloody question. Maybe I'm just a masiochist, or maybe I don't like being told that I can't have something I want (see: car, as in I WANT a Corolla, MAY get a Ford Focus, and HAVE a piece of shit Kia in the meantime that sounds as if it could explode any second, God forbid). I can't really say, but I can say that, as with tortilla chips and other salty carbs, the thought of eating them doesn't match the self-anger I feel after they have been consumed. Therefore, to avoid the after effects, never pleasant, and to stop myself from eating them is to keep them out of sight, and the way to not think about them is to not tempt myself.
The same holds true for acting. Instead of Tostitos, I can have microwave popcorn, and instead of auditioning, I can send out my writing. (Instead of dating...well, I do have female friends.) I realize this is a silly analogy, but both eating and theatre are intregal parts of my life, really, unavoidable, and so I have to find a way to manage my addiction. It's really a day-to-day struggle, but keeping myself out of harm's way seems most sensible. And next time I can spend an evening with a friend and go to bed a lot happier.
I did ead one, from the play D. is directing (though I'm clearly not 50 years old, but whatever), then waited, and finally read another side from a cool play about a superhero. Alas, I don't feel I did a good reading--too over the top--and I could tell from the lack of response I got from the directors (both of whom see VERY young and I wonder how much experience they have). I was already feeling rather down, listening to Keane "Everybody Changes" (quite the mournful song), and having no confidence that I would be asked to read another side or, if I were, that I would be cast. There were actually two other plays, maybe three, I would have LOVED to have read for, but was not asked to. One in particular, about a 30 year old woman who gets a date from an agency for her birthday, was really fun and I could totally relate to it. Yes, I KNOW I'm not 30, but my situation is a lot like hers (except I am clearly not getting over a bad relationship, b/c there haven't been any relationships to get over!), and I could have played this role, I know it. But I wasn't asked to read, so it won't happen, and I doubt I'll get cast in the other two. So there's another night where I was paraded out like an animal, made to wait painfully, came away saddened, and will receive the rejection call or email tomorrow, I've no doubt.
After I had read my second side and was told I could go (Gee, thanks for the release from prison), D. came over and said I'd done a nice job, not to feel badly or be overly critical of myself, and that there were a lot of good actors there. That, of course, is code for "You won't get cast," and so another fruitless audition passes. I decided then and there that I was NOT going to audition for any more plays unless specifically asked to, and the only tough thing is being true to this pledge. It's like a bloody drug, this acting thing, but auditions are not good for me, and there really is no high, since I don't get cast. There's the dream, the fantasy, that I WILL get cast and I'll get to have the fun of acting and being part of a community--stop me if you've heard this one before--but I really know the chances are slim to none, and it's not a self-fulfilling prophecy, as I really give it my all, but more the fact that there are far too many actors and far too parts for 42 year olds, even 42 year olds who could be in their mid-30s (since most parts are for women in their 20s to early 30s, women in their 50s and 60s, and men, men, and more men, though there were few men in the room and tons of women, naturally).
The rather ironic part of the evening is that after I gave my monologue, a nice woman, also auditioning, complimented me on it and said, "Have you performed that anywhere? You should. And has it won any awards?" This naturally made me feel great, and also nudged me yet again in the "Why the hell aren't you just writing and NOT auditioning anymore?!" place deep and not so deep in my heart and my mind. I realize it--I'm a far better writer than an actor, and perhaps more significantly, there are far more opportunities for me to write than act, as my age and gender has nothing whatsoever to do with whether a play of mine will get accepted (unless the festival is seeking only women writers, in which case I have the advantage). I have to just accept this fact and move on, and if I do, just maybe a casting opportunity will arise, but not by looking for it. It's like dating--it's not working out, so why keep torturing myself? It is true that I could be extraordinarily surprised and find out tomorrow that I was in fact cast, but this is extremely unlikely, so I'll just concede defeat and move on.
It's something I have to watch all the time--this allure of acting, so strong that I'm willing to go through the pain to get to the pleasure. The difference is that there is rarely pleasure but there's a lot of pain, and why the hell do I keep hoping for something so unattainable? Somebody, please stop me next time I say, I have an audition tomorrow, I beg you!!! Meanwhile, I should have some time on Sunday to do some writing, and I just need to get down to it. It can't be coincidental that I keep getting compliments on it (it's just that it's all happening in a short time span), so why not go with the thing that works? Good bloody question. Maybe I'm just a masiochist, or maybe I don't like being told that I can't have something I want (see: car, as in I WANT a Corolla, MAY get a Ford Focus, and HAVE a piece of shit Kia in the meantime that sounds as if it could explode any second, God forbid). I can't really say, but I can say that, as with tortilla chips and other salty carbs, the thought of eating them doesn't match the self-anger I feel after they have been consumed. Therefore, to avoid the after effects, never pleasant, and to stop myself from eating them is to keep them out of sight, and the way to not think about them is to not tempt myself.
The same holds true for acting. Instead of Tostitos, I can have microwave popcorn, and instead of auditioning, I can send out my writing. (Instead of dating...well, I do have female friends.) I realize this is a silly analogy, but both eating and theatre are intregal parts of my life, really, unavoidable, and so I have to find a way to manage my addiction. It's really a day-to-day struggle, but keeping myself out of harm's way seems most sensible. And next time I can spend an evening with a friend and go to bed a lot happier.
posted by Sue B at 6:10 PM
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