Representation

I got my first agent by auditioning for him in his tiny West LA office. He was a gem. Still is. And to be honest, I probably would have stayed with him forever, but he left the industry for personal reasons. We still have lunches and talk all the time. I was lucky. From the start, I had someone who really believed in me.

Since then.....let's just say it's been a rocky road.

I've had managers who never returned my calls, and didn't stop me when I said I was leaving. I've had a manager who had a client book a spinoff, and put me on the backburner to the point of oblivion. And I had an agent who would call me at 3am for no apparent reason, and ended up going into rehab.

Welcome to LA.

I had romanticized the idea of having the same agent and manager for my entire career, but that's a rarity. It's business, yes. But it's also about personalities meshing. And one thing that I was never afraid of doing was leaving when things were obviously not right. I trusted that I would find a better match, and that I was better served not giving 10% away to someone who wasn't bringing enough to the table.

Which brings me to my current situation. Where I love love love my agent. And I love my manager so much... as a person. See the problem here?

I don't pay my friends 10% of my gross because I like them as people. That's not how this world works. And in the world of representation, we're a team -- and I do my part (learn my material, bring in money, do strong work in the room, etc.)...so if someone else on the team isn't doing their part....well. Ugh, you see where this is going.

The problem is that it's so hard (for me) to not make it personal. Especially after a couple years of working with someone. To just focus on the fact that it's business and money, and that I'm not breaking any hearts by leaving. (Though I fear in this case I would be).

I suppose my point here is that you can't be afraid to make changes. We put everything we have into this dream. And at the end of the day, if we don't take care of our career, who will?

I am undecided on what I'm going to do. I'm all about 2nd, 3rd (4th, 5th chances).

But I'll keep you posted on what I decide.

Treating yourself

My audition went well this afternoon -- "so funny, so great," they said. Thanks gals. I'll take it.

So as I'm pulling out of the lot, I decide I want to treat myself. Sometimes this involves a pinkberry, or buying a little top or a little book. It doesn't matter -- it's a habit that I began at the start of my career when I was feeling shitty about all the hustle with little payoff. Every penny went into union dues, rent, trying to keep my car alive (barely), headshots, and gas for the aforementioned jalopy. Plus, canceling plans because I couldn't afford to go out and I STILL wasn't booking. It just felt sad. Deprived.

So I started to treat myself -- nothing big, or expensive -- just little gifts to myself so that my life still felt balanced and happy.

Last year, when I was working out of the country, I spotted a most glorious handbag. One that I had seen on arms of privileged ladies before, and had envied. And there it was. Staring at me, saying "you can afford me now."

I called my girlfriends. "Should I get it?" They all said yes. Enablers.

My NY agent called: "Just get the bag! You deserve it!"

And after biting my nails in agony, pacing the store, I did. And I felt a rush of blood down my body like I was breaking the law, because the working class in me just couldn't accept that:

a) I would spend this much money on a purse when my $19 one from Forever 21 worked just fine, thank you very much
b) I deserved it

That bag sat untouched, in my hotel room for 4 days. I knew I was going to return it. But at the end of the week (the grueling week of forced calls, penalties, and massive double time) I went to the hotel, and put all of my things into that precious little purse. Because I had earned it. I had been paying for that bag for years -- countless auditions, endless hours of hustle. I did deserve it.

So whether it's big or small (whatever is within your means), don't forget to treat yourself every once in a while. You work hard, and you deserve it.

PS
I still use my Forever 21 bag all the time.

"Don't give it five minutes, if you're not gonna give it five years."

That was the rule of thumb I was told about this industry. And I think it stands true.

What happens though, is that within those five years, when your savings run low, the will to keep subjecting yourself to the brutality of auditions feels kind of stupid. [Trust me, I have soooooo been there.]

"I'm a smart girl," you tell yourself, "I could be doing countless other things, and making a good living." And if that's true, then that's when you have to ask yourself, "How badly do you want this? And why?"

And if it's for the right reasons (whatever those are for you), then you stick it out...and save your pennies, and get a part time job at night, and piece it all together, and you survive while pursuing this dream.

And then one day, this starts to happen: You work with amazing actors, and Oscar winning directors, and you go to gifting suites (where I kid you not, they give you free vacations to Hawaii). And you get fan mail, and walk red carpets; you work your craft, and have fancy producers tell you they love you, and bigger agencies trying to poach you. And you no longer have to look under couch cushions to find some spare change.

And you breathe a sigh of relief, and go "Holy shit, this is working! I'm doing it!"

And it feels great, and you take it all in, and then you remember...you still gotta find your next job. No really. All that fluff is fun, but it doesn't pay your bills. And if the razzle dazzle is what you're looking for, then go be a reality star and enjoy your fifteen minutes (but know that this is probably not the right blog for you). Because the years of hustle it takes to get to the point where you get bags of swag is not nearly worth the aggravation. You can buy your own face creams and jewelry.

Someone once said, "Act if you can't do anything else." They understood just how tough this industry is. And while I don't fully agree, I would certainly say that it's a serious commitment, and that you shouldn't give it five minutes unless you're gonna give it five years.


With that said, off to a 4pm audition and then prepping for a 2:30 tomorrow. I'm in it to win it.

R&R

In Sedona, celebrating my anniversary with the beau. More to come next week...

Hope you're all having a fantastic weekend.

Feedback

I don't ask for it. Correction: I never ask for it.

When I first started acting, I remember calling my reps, or shooting them an email after each audition, to let them know how I did...whether casting said I was "great," or "good," or whatever interchangeable adjective I was given in my session. At the same time, I would ask my agent and manager to let me know if they heard anything. As though all my eggs were in this one little basket, and my agents were better served trying to get feedback than work on getting me more appointments.

The neuroses didn't stop there -- couple days later, if I didn't hear back from them, I'd follow up..."Did we hear anything? Did casting say anything?"

Like a crazy little actress waiting by the phone, desperate for one morsel of feedback that I could dissect with my friends.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter. Having your agent reiterate that casting thought you were "great," means zero in the grand scheme of things. Your agent knows you're great, that's why he reps you. And to live your life/your auditions at the mercy of what people thought about you....well, it's just silly.

If you got the part, rest assured, your agent will let you know. If you didn't, it doesn't matter why not because it's probably some nonsensical reason -- like you being too tall. Or some legitimate reason, like someone being better than you...which you also don't need to know (because there will always be someone better). There is probably someone out there who is (dare I say) even better than Meryl Streep, but that undiscovered talent may be like Christopher Waltz, who comes out of the woodwork at their prime. Either way, you don't need that feedback. You don't need to fixate on who was "better" than you. You need to just work on you.

Now on the other hand, if there's a constructive note that casting gives your reps (i.e., she was unfocused, unprepared, smelly, late, whatever) -- well, then here's the reality: you need to get your shit together.

But if that's the feedback, trust me (TRUST ME!!), they will tell you. You won't have to ask.

So in the meantime, just feel confident with the work you bring to the table, and once you leave the room, leave it alone. No really...leave. it. alone.

Food for thought

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."

-Emerson

You need to know that you're enough

A few years ago, I had just signed with a new manager, and the first audition he sent me out on was for a recurring on "Lost."

I had never read for April Webster (legendary CD), and this was the first time my new rep would get feedback on me, so to say I was nervous is an understatement.

I go into the room, exchange pleasantries, and begin the scene. April stops me.

"Go back, start over, and let's do it again."

My mind is racing..."Um, ok -- is there an adjustment?"

"Just take a breath, and start again," she says.

I start again. She stops me.

She then tells me that when I walk in the door I am vibrant and engaging, and then I start the scene and I become a "shrinking violet." (Oh, shit.)

I must have looked like a deer in headlights. How could she see through all of my false bravado? The breakdown said, "confident, sexy, an Angelina Jolie type"...and by God, that's what I was embodying (smoky eyes and all). Evidently, not so much.

She then said this to me (words that changed my entire career):

"You need to know that you're enough."

That's all she said. And there I stood, with too much bronzer on, knowing she was right. I needed to know that I was enough. That if I was going to book this role, it was because of what I naturally brought to the role (not because of what I thought they wanted to see). Unforced, uncontrived. What they feel from me when I walk in the door.

Now I didn't end up booking that part (though April did end up putting me in a project down the road), but her words never left my mind, and two weeks later, I booked a series regular in my very first pilot (#1 on the callsheet, and a big fruit basket in my trailer to boot! I don;t know what it is, but I still get so tickled by those fruit baskets).

It was a turning point, and to this day (even on my lowest of lows), I always remind myself that I am enough.

Get busy, get booking

I'll admit, I go into lulls where I only focus on what I'm NOT booking. I become consumed with nothing but auditions, and UNbooked work. And I develop the incredible skill set of being able to list any actress's credits as though I am a stockholder in IMDB. This is an awful, and totally counterproductive state of mind.

This is when I have to remember something that always rings true -- when you get busy, you get booking.
By this I mean, you must make your life full with things more than acting.

So I'm not talking acting classes, or workshops, or hanging out with other actors at Coffee Bean. What I mean is finding things that make you happy that are 100% unrelated to our line of work.

Last year (actually, at this time exactly), I started taking tennis lessons, French classes, and gardening. And while my serve never became anything notable (or, even good), and the French was comme ci comme ca, and my little garden only rendered 2 noteworthy tomatoes -- I felt happy. Proud of making things grow (or at least attempting to), and life was full.

And guess what happened in those fateful months? I booked the largest job to date in my career, and spent the summer feeling fancy and working my ass off in another country. (Perhaps, that's why the neglected tomatoes didn't fare so well...)

So get busy. Whatever that means for you (running, writing, volunteering, taking cooking classes, etc), go and do it. As a matter of fact, use this time to make the "special skills" on your resume things that you can actually do :)
(i.e., by saying that you can "ride horses," are you referring to a pony ride when you were 10? it's ok...we all fib a little)

I say this because a friend of mine tested for a show set in Hawaii a few years ago, which required the lead characters to know how to surf. "Oh totally, yeah I can surf," said all the little actresses, with their newly updated "special skills" on the resumes. So what did the producers do? They had them all go down to Malibu and prove it. Only one of them could actually get up on the board. Classic.

LA Marathon

Bravo to everyone who completed the LA Marathon today!

For training, hustling, powering through when it was hard, smiling even when you were exhausted (or feeling defeated), and staying focused on your goal.

Sound like anything else I talk about? No wonder I love running.

I was happy to cheer you guys on today, and look forward to joining you next year.

Thanks for the inspiration....on both fronts.

Joseph Middleton

One of the best casting directors in town.

He has a blog: http://middletoncasting.blogspot.com/

I highly recommend this site for his insight into our industry from the CD's perspective. He's incredible at what he does, and though he rarely remembers me* (no, I'm very serious...even though he's cast me in one of his projects, he still greets me with familiarity on a very sporadic basis), I couldn't have more respect for this man.

*In his blog, he actually touches on how hard it is to remember every actor, and how it makes him feel badly...but in his defense, the man does see hundreds of our smiling faces every week. And again, with this industry...it's not personal.

Ripping off the bandaid

My manager left me a message, simple saying: "Hey, give me a ring when you get this."

I call a few minutes later, his assistant puts me through, and before any pleasantries, our conversation went like this:

ME: Hey.

HIM: Hey. You're not getting the pilot.

[We call this "ripping off the bandaid" -- no need to beat around the bush, no tears to shed, just tell me what's up.]

ME: Wow. OK.

HIM: They said you gave the best read. You killed it. They love you. But you look too much like another girl they already cast for the other lead.

Such is life....or, rather such is the life of an actor.

This is not to say it doesn't hurt/or sting/or make you want to pull over on La Cienega and cry*...but it does somehow soften the blow to just have my team come out and say it.

**Yes, I have been known to have full blown breakdowns over lost roles (ones that I was so close on, that I coached on, prepped for weeks on), but I guess part of growing up is just getting over it. "No"s are much more of the norm than "yes"s...so you gotta find a way to be OK with it (at least, ok-ish, or ok enough.)

Tonight's remedy: wine, Chinese delivery with lots of Sriracha, and a snuggly boyfriend who keeps saying "they're idiots for not casting [me]."

All you need is love....doo, doo, doo doo...

Just saw W.O.B.
Wendy. O'. Brien.

(Oh yes, I'm already back to the hustle. Arrived yesterday afternoon from London, went straight from LAX to FOX to test for a pilot, and now had 2 producer sessions today). I mean....whew. I am running purely on adrenaline, and residual fish and chips.

Anyway, back to WOB...she is one of my absolute favorite casting directors. Real, honest, and so so incredibly cool.

Anyhow, I saw Wendy today and she pulled me aside after the audition to say nothing but good things. To be told that I'm a "breath of fresh air," when I look jetlagged and still smell like customs, just felt good.

When CDs and producers say "that was great, thank you," it generally translates to "I've been in a session all day, and I'm done with you." OK, maybe that's an exaggeration (depending on the CD), but even being told your read was "great," or "good," even "awesome"...it all kind of means the same thing (a different version of the same pleasantry to move things along).

With that said, it feels especially good to have that human, genuine, supportive connection.

It only got better because between auditions at Sony and Culver Studios, my mom met me for lunch, ran lines with me, and held up a sweater while I changed in the car. I mean, talk about support. I'm sure when she went to PTA meetings, she never expected to be prepping me for auditions 20 years later -- to be reading the role of "my husband" in a scene as we share a veggie burger and fries. God bless her.

I know I've mentioned it before, and I keep going back to it. But I suppose it's because it's the truth. The support matters. The love matters. And in this somewhat heartless industry, a little heart goes a long way. I'm telling you, you need it. I don't care how tough your skin is...to be surrounded by people who actually give a shit if you didn't book "Spunky girl #2" when you're first starting or the lead in a Brian Grazer pilot, it means the absolute world.

Letting it go...

Last week when I made the executive decision to escape the industry, and come to London for a week, my agent said: "I support you with whatever decision you make. If you need to leave, do it. But really leave. I won't email you with appointments you're missing, or let you know what's going on. I will just let you leave."

(Seriously, he knows me so well)

Now why is it that even though I'm gone, I can't really "leave"? I keep wondering what I'm missing, what my agent is NOT emailing me, etc. Thankfully, these are fleeting thoughts that only haunt me at 2am London time, when my jetlagged body thinks I'm supposed to be running lines.

When I was chatting with my dad last week he said that one of his largest regrets was making work more important than life. And that as he's gotten older, he wished he hadn't prioritized the way that he had. He told me to go. To enjoy myself, that life is too short.

My dad doesn't know that I have this blog, but one day he may, and when that day comes, I want to say:

Thank you. Great advice, dad.

London town

My, oh my, do I love it here...

It may just be getting away from the industry for a bit, or the fact that everyone says the word "lovely" as much as we say the word "the"....

Either way, I'm relishing every second of it.

I was mildly touristy today -- went on The Eye (which is a massive ferris wheel that gives you a panoramic view of the city), had a fantastic lunch on a little cobblestone street (the name of which was too obscure for me to remember), and saw Corinne Bailey Rae (whom I love love love) perform for about 50 people.

It was just a perfect night, that ended with a dinner of sushi and sake, and my boyfriend twirling me down a quiet street en route to our hotel. (Please note -- when I'm happy, I revert to my 6 year old self who loves to twirl, skip, and jump).

I'm having a blast, and relishing the escape from my industry bubble.

Tomorrow's agenda -- find a dress for the premiere, continue to eat calorie laden British fare, try to see a show, and get lost in SoHo.

Sometimes we all need to recharge, and this is my chance.

*It's weird -- as I'm typing this, I'm second guessing if there's anything negative I should include about my day....any sad or demeaning story to tell....any casting woe, or job lost (as though somehow, if I have a actress-y sob story it will make me more likeable/relatable/understandable) -- but the truth of the matter is, I just feel plain old fashioned happy today...and there's nothing sad to tell. Yay*

Going Global

Greetings from London (and hello jetlag! current time in LON: 1:32am)

So far, a fantastic time is being had by all. Met up with some friends for a proper Sunday British lunch...evidently that's the thing to do here.

And here's something that I love about the Brits. They describe food the way we describe people.

The roasted chicken isn't great. It's gorgeous.
The fish and chips aren't good. They're brilliant.
And that roast and yorkshire pudding? Well, my god is it beautiful.

If casting directors were as generous with compliments to actors as Brits are about their meals, well my god, would we be on cloud nine all day.

More updates to come....at a decent hour.

Book a flight, book a part

I don't know why it is, but without fail, every single time I book a flight, I end up booking a part. Truly, you've never seen someone with more airline credits from canceled travel than me.

I have often wondered if I should just book a ticket every week to go somewhere (anywhere, really), and then watch the work pour in. Somehow, I figure it wouldn't work if I did that.

With that said, I booked a flight to London this morning. I'm going to take a couple meetings, go to a premiere, and get lost in a lovely rainy city for a few days (in tow, with the beau).

As fate would have it, my last pilot audition this morning illicited this response from the CDs: "How have we never read you before? Did you just get to LA? You are spectacular! Thank you so so much for coming in. I mean, spectacular!" You would think I paid this woman to be so nice to me.

And even as I left the room, and felt the glare of the other actresses (who heard the gush-fest through the thin walls), I didn't let that get me down. I thought to myself: "Enjoy the compliment. Don't let these girls make you feel bad for being good."

(Because seriously, it sometimes feels like highschool).

Now here is what could very well happen -- the producers will decide this weekend to test me, and there I'll be, in Notting Hill, wondering how soon I can get back to LA.

And I'm telling you....it's all because I booked a flight.

M.I.A.

Sorry I've been MIA guys. It has been so busy. Here's what my last couple days looked like:

Wednesday:
7am................wake up, rush to set
8am................hair & makeup
9am-4pm............shooting
4:15pm.............rush from set to LAX
5:30pm.............flight to Vegas for a premiere
6:45pm.............land in Vegas, rush to hotel,throw on a dress
7:15pm.............downstairs with friends for the cocktail reception
8-?................see the film, go to the afterparty = fun, fun, fun

Thursday:
8am...............wake up, breakfast with friends downstairs
10ish.............return flight to LAX
12pm..............land in LA, get my car, run home and change
1pm...............drive to Warner Bros
2pm...............audition at Warner Bros (for a drug addict)
2:30pm............drive to FOX studios
3:10pm............arrive at FOX, run lines in my car
3:25..............change hair/makeup/clothes
3:45pm............audition (for a sexpot who lures married men)
4:30pm............drive to M Cafe (yummmm.....)
5:30pm............finally get home, running lines for a 9:30am audition tomorrow


So remember when I was talking about finding balance a few posts back? Well, it may have been mildly insane to jump on a plane in the middle of a crazy work week, but ya know what? It felt so good. Good to be a part of a memory. Good to be there with my friends and boyfriend. Good to not be so beholden to work.

Exhausting, but worth every minute....

Eyes on the prize

Guess what guys? I'm testing!

Remember how I was saying that once I test, I will feel like the ball is rolling? Well, you get what you ask for...and thank god, someone was listening.

I got a test offer in last Friday, and I can't wait.

I remember so vividly the first time I was told that I was testing. Even though it was four years ago, it feels like it was yesterday.

I was driving into the Sony lot, and winding up the many levels of parking. Levels 1, 2, 3, 4...not a spot in sight.

So as I'm swerving around the lot, the phone rings, and it's my manager and agent together. Now, it's always a good sign when they call together because no one ever wants to be the bearer of bad news (so one person calls you for that), and general appointments don't require conference calls (so an assistant calls you for those), but GOOD NEWS....well, everyone wants to be on board for that. So as I pull onto the roof level, and the sun pours over my windshield, they tell me I'm testing for a FOX pilot.

I start screaming and crying, and saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!!" And they're both saying, "Don't thank us -- this is all you. You deserve it." And I'm like a kid who's going to Disneyland -- filled with silly, wild, unbridled "aaahhhh!"

And I look up, and there is the sun -- beaming so brightly, and so beautifully that in that moment, I just KNEW the sun made it a point to push that cloud outta the way and shine down on me.

I stepped out of my car and breathed it all in. And I can guarantee you one thing -- I was the happiest girl on the lot that day. And you know what's funny? I didn't even end up booking that pilot -- but my memory leaves no room for that point. It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is how incredibly good every second of it felt. That's what I relish.

To this day, whenever I have an appointment at Sony, I always park on the roof. It takes me right back.

The choices we make

Much of being an actress is about making choices. But not just "actor choices," (motivation, intention, etc) -- but lots of real life choices.

Do I cancel this trip because of a callback? Do I have to miss this wedding because I'm testing for a pilot?

In real life, you hear people say all the time: "I wouldn't miss it for anything!" or "I wouldn't miss it for a million bucks."

OK -- well, would you miss it for ten bucks? Probably not.
What about ten thousand? Would you miss the event for that? How about $15,000? Because that's the reality.

It begs the question...how do you put a value on things that are important in your life vs your work?
It's a big challenge to find that balance. And the plot thickens when it's not even a booked job, but rather a gamble. A possibility.

Example: last summer, when I felt that my life was at the mercy of auditions, I got news of a final producer session for a recurring role. The session would be at 10am on a Friday. I was supposed to be flying out of LAX at 11:30am on Friday for a friend's wedding. The session couldn't be moved, but it was a role that I knew I wanted.

So I rolled the dice. I went to the producer session, suitcase packed in my car, and the second I was done, raced to LAX, parked my car, and ran into the terminal only to find that I was too late. Next flight? Sold out. The one after that? Sold out. Other carriers? Not happening.

For hours, I waited in the airport on stand-by lists, crying, and cursing this stupid audition for making me lose the joy in my life. I finally drove home, and was able to book a flight for 5am the next morning. A triumph, indeed -- but this also required me to get there, rent a car, drive 2 hrs through the mountains to meet my boyfriend and friends, and then turn around and fly home the next day.

It was madness -- but a necessary madness for me to feel like I still had a life.

In this case, the gamble paid off -- I went to the producer session, made it to the wedding, and ended up booking that recurring role.

But what if I hadn't booked it? Would I still be able to laugh at how it all played out, or would I feel kind of like I do now...trapped between wanting something so badly, but also not wanting to resent my job for stealing my life.

Because let's be honest, much of my "work" is auditioning. If I'm not shooting something, I'm auditioning so that I CAN shoot something. And there's a big difference between your life being at the mercy of a booked role VS at the mercy of an audition.

The beat goes on...off to a pilot audition for NBC. Yes, on Saturday. Welcome to pilot season.

The little things...

My boyfriend just came home bearing a bottle of champagne, and my favorite flowers.

Me: What's the occassion?

Him: I'm proud of you.

Me: For what?

Him: Because you're working.

Me: But it's just a guest star.

Him: It's not JUST a guest star. You're a working actress, and I'm proud of you.

The working actress then melts with delight, as the smell of sweet sweet lilies wafts across the room....

[OK, now it sounds like it's turning into a Danielle Steel novel, or an episode of "Red Shoe Diaries." Sorry about that guys. It really didn't get quite that cheesy. But in all honesty....what a sweet way to end a full work week. And a great reminder of celebrating all of the successes -- big or small. They're all important, and to be embraced.]

Cheers everyone...to a lovely, sweet, special weekend.

SAG

I love my union. Not just for the screeners they send at award season, or great health care benefits, but because they really do protect us as actors. And while it is hard to remember this when I have to biannually write a big fat dues check, I am grateful to be a member.

I joined the union a few years ago, and in a rather unconventional way. My agent, at the time, submitted me for a co-star role (someone with less than 5 lines) on a CBS show. I pre-read, then went in for producers, and booked it. Submitting me for a SAG project, while knowing I wasn't in the union, was not kosher. It is generally frowned upon, and most agents will just wait until you've done enough extra work to be SAG before even signing you.

But my agent believed in me, and didn't seem to care that I had zero credits and no SAG card. He felt confident that I would be right for this role, and his take was always, "let them fall in love with you, and we'll deal with SAG later." So he submitted me, without revealing to casting that I was non-union.

When I booked the role, casting was livid to find out that they had to Taft Hartley me. (FYI: Taft Hartley is when, as a non-union actor, you book a union job, and paperwork has to be filled out so that you can instantly become a union member, and legally take the job.)

For years after that job, when I saw those CDs, they were always annoyed (remembering how that whole thing was played), but at the end of the day, it paid off. I have worked ever since, and perhaps if it wasn't for the ballsiness of my agent, I would maybe be trying to accumulate vouchers.

One never knows...

Young Storytellers Foundation

Balance is important. And nothing (for me, at least) puts things in perspective like working with kids. Young Storytellers is an incredible organization, and I think many of you would really enjoy volunteering there.

Here's how the YSF describes its core program:

A NINE-WEEK, ONE-ON-ONE SCREENWRITING PROGRAM DEDICATED TO INCREASING SELF-EXPRESSION, SELF-ESTEEM AND LITERACY IN LOS ANGELES AREA PUBLIC SCHOOL STUDENTS.

The Young Storytellers Foundation offers a uniquely engaging and effective arts education and youth development program to targeted public schools in Los Angeles, where students are at-risk and have little or no access to the arts. Twice a year at more than 30 schools, our program pairs 10 students from Title 1 schools with 10 mentors from the entertainment industry. The mentors volunteer one lunch hour a week for eight weeks to guide and encourage the students as they imagine and develop their own short screenplay.

In the ninth week, professional Hollywood actors perform the students’ scripts for a live audience. We call these performances the “Big Show” because for the students watching their creation come to life, it is a very big moment.

For kids who normally receive little individualized attention and support, working one-on-one with an adult to create their own story, and seeing actors like Zachary Levi (Chuck), Ben McKenzie (Southland), Josh Radnor (How I Met Your Mother), and Raven Symone (That's So Raven) not only take it seriously, but bring it brilliantly to life for everyone they know, is transformative.

From this experience, children learn that they matter. They see that people value what they have to say. Their communication skills improve. And they discover that attending school and studying can be enjoyable and immensely rewarding.

http://youngstorytellers.com/

(*kudos to miss lira, www.thestrugglingactress.blogspot.com, for inspiring this post*)

Fan Mail

My manager's office delivered a package of fan mail today -- a medley of letters accumulated from the past month.

Sometimes I get letters from inmates (which my boyfriend happens to be weary of me even touching..."you don't know what that might be sealed with," he says....ew). Other times, they're from little girls, guys in the military, or pubescent teenage boys.

Today in the shuffle, there's a letter from a Jehovah's witness (who wants to give me bible study at home), and a sweet letter from a girl in Japan (which must mean an episode of something I've done is rerunning there). There's also one from some guys in NY, and one from a woman who says her family is going through hardship, and that an autographed picture would really help her husband pull through. Really??

It's strange, because to me....I'm just me. I'm not famous, I'm not fancy, and yet for some reason, people want to reach out. It's the kindest, coolest, most awesome thing.

And maybe it's weird to me because I've never wanted to be famous, and I have always equated fanmail with fame.

Only in this industry can you get swag, and go to gifting suites, and in the same day have the guard at the Warner Bros lot tell you that you need to turn around because you weren't issued a drive on. The dichotomy of this industry is laughable...I'm just grateful that I'm in on the joke.

Guest Starring

As an actor, being a guest star is one of the best (and most challenging) things to do.

*"Best" because you go and play for a few days, make some great contacts, and look forward to residual checks for years to come.

*"Challenging" because you're walking onto a set with a pre-set family. They all know each other, they have inside jokes and a familiarity that a transient guest star just can't fake. You're not in a holding room with the background actors or co-stars, but you're not a principle...it's a weird limbo.

In the past, I've done guest star roles where I spend my down time sitting alone in my trailer, thinking of Sacagawea (*refer to my previous post*). I've done awkward ones: where on my first day my character is in lingerie (in front of all these people I just met), or clumsily shooting a gun, or kissing the lead (with his girlfriend glaring at me from video village). Other times, like today, I really hang out with the cast and crew, jump right in with their jokes, goof around in between takes, and still jump back into being a professional once the cameras are rolling.

It's a balance that comes with time/with work/with confidence....and one begets the other. I'm sure of that.

My scene was pretty light, and I'm already wrapped for the day, which is great (and gives me time to get home, make Ina Garten's Perfect Roasted Chicken for dinner, and work on my scenes for the rest of the week). By the way, this chicken gets its namesake for a reason....it is a household favorite of mine, and it truly is "perfect."

Traditional trailer motif

I don't know what it is, but 95% of every honeywagon I've ever had, has this very specific Native American motif.

So I walk into my dressing room this morning, and next to all the bells and whistles (shower, vanity area, flatscreen, etc), there's THAT VERY SERIOUS GUY staring at me. Oh, and his buddy...on another horse...in another frame.

It makes me smile everytime. He is my random, framed & familiar friend. And he reminds me that I'm working.

Life VS Work

Today I had 3 auditions. One at 11am, another at 2:30, and the day wrapped up with the final one at 5:15.

They were all on different sides of town, and very different characters. It was a full day, and because the bluetooth in my car is currently broken (rendering all radio/CDs inaudible), I was left with the company of my own thoughts....

ALL. DAY. LONG.

Generally, I enjoy my own company (in our line of work, you better, considering the process of auditioning is so isolated), but today I was feeling sad, so let's just say my own company was not a walk in the park.

I ended up having to miss this event in NY today that was very important to me (specifically because it is a milestone for someone I love deeply). And while I know that I can't be in two places at once, especially when it's galavanting through Manhattan vs WORKING, it still makes my heart sink.

As I was crying over missing this "moment," a friend told me a story about "Deer Hunter." She said in the scene where Meryl Streep is a mess, tearfully stamping cans in the store, it was because (in real life) she had to miss her brother's wedding that day. Evidently, they wouldn't release her from shooting, and she couldn't stop crying all day long. Her uncontrollable sadness made it into the film.

Now, whether the story is true or not, I really don't know. But in some way, it made me feel like less of a baby for being so upset. If I could have, I would have cried through every audition today.

My agent knew how important this event was to me, and told me I didn't need to take this job. (Yes, there is an agent that exists who is not just money hungry. I adore him). My manager, also knowing how important the NY event was to me, said the decision was completely mine. No pressure. More work would come, he said.

But when as actors, we fight for so long just to get jobs, how can you rationalize turning work (good work/fun work/high paying work) down? Though I've had the luxury to work a lot, I never forget what it felt like to dig through the bottom of my purse to pay my SAG dues.

I hope I made the right decision. I refuse to live my life with regrets, but I gotta tell you....sometimes it just ain't easy, and it's certainly exhausting.

Only time will tell.

Until then I have a 5am calltime tomorrow morning, so it's bedtime pretty soon for me. Off to watch "Secret Diary of a Callgirl," marvel at Billie Piper's acting, and feel grateful that at least I'm not a hooker. Ha.

Now THAT has to be an exhausting job..... ;)