So much past inside my present

PART I: TEN YEARS

I’ve been seeing people posting a cool little summary of the past decade on social media. And it occurred to me that I’ve had a pretty full decade, and I feel really happy looking back on it. I have a handful of socially celebrated “achievements” on this list—school and career things. But I’ve also accomplished a lot of things that were personal goals, or things that I’ve dreamt of for years. And many of them don’t come with particular rewards or accolades. But I love that I did them. So in my long decade summary, I’m including both the things that were a big deal in general (whether accomplishments or just experiences), and the things that were a big deal just to me. So here are the things I accomplished from 2009 – 2019.

Moved back to Rexburg after living and working in California.
Did improv comedy with Comic Frenzy at BYU-Idaho.
Performed an original song at Acoustic Café at BYU-Idaho.
Got married.
Got a Bachelor’s Degree.
Taught English as adjunct faculty at the university level.
Finally got an iPhone.
Visited Honduras, El Salvador, Mexico, Italy, Greece, and Turkey.
Met Mike McCready and attended 2 Pearl Jam concerts.
Moved to Utah.
Got a talent agent.
Worked in public education.
Worked with Stephen Soderberg and Michael Cerberus on an HBO mini series.
Worked with Rob Reiner and Cary Elwes (FIRST TEENAGE CELEBRITY CRUSH) on a film.
Got divorced, and survived the trauma and heartbreak of it.
Got a Master’s degree, which included writing a 143-page thesis.
Lived in seven different places.
Got paid to act.
Played a romantic lead in a comedy.
Performed in 26 full-length theatre productions.
Sound designed 8 full-length theatre productions.
Auditioned over 135 times.
Joined the Improvables Improv Comedy team in Centerville.
Had a speaking role in a Lifetime horror film.
Did 3 commercials.
Did 2 industrials.
Worked as background on 12 film/television projects.
Watched a ton of live theatre, both in New York and in Utah.
Became a company member at An Other Theater Company.
Opened an Etsy shop of subversive cross stitches, which made a little over $1,600 in its first year.
Wrote 655 blog entries.
Upped my dose of antidepressants from 50 mg to 100 mg
Spent 3 days in a psychiatric hospital.
Started working with a therapist to unpack and work through past traumas, and build a toolbox to help me through current and future challenges.
Became an aunt (x4!)
Began a “Sister Blog Challenge.”
Got my first tattoo.
Had a major faith transition.
Worked in a law office.
Worked as a simulation patient at a university medical program.
Started a long-term relationship, post-divorce.
Began training as an intimacy choreographer.
Started directing my first full-length theatrical production.
Got called back for my #1 bucket list dream role of Miss Hannigan in “Annie” (which callback I bombed because I was WAAAYYY in my head and also because I hiked a volcano in Hawai’i, took a red-eye flight back to Utah, showered and changed at home, then drove to Orem and attempted to do the callback with very little sleep or preparation and it was probably the worst callback I’ve ever done in my life).
Started learning how to read tarot cards.
Went on as an understudy for a theatrical performance.

That’s a pretty damn awesome decade.

PART II: FOUR YEARS

I was thinking about how my life has changed since early 2017. I’ve had the occasional sensation of “being on the wrong timeline.” It feels like the end of 2016 sent our universe spinning off into some unfamiliar dimension. But I also feel like I’ve been “leveling up” since being thrown off course. And I feel like each year has a particular theme.

2017: Survival
This was the year of just getting through it. A morally dubious and incredibly un-qualified man was in the highest office of the United States. My marriage of almost seven years was ending. The whole world seemed upside down. So I had to just sort of hibernate for a lot of it. I embraced the self-induced coma. I worked and studied and rehearsed and performed and slept and cried and art journaled and watched a helluva lot of TV.

2018: Distraction
I did like, six overlapping theatre projects during 2018. I didn’t need to be in survival mode quite as much anymore, but I wasn’t quite ready to just be still. I wasn’t quite ready to “do the work” outside of my therapist’s office. Some of the distraction was to avoid feeling and working through things, but some of it was just circumstantial. A new romance is generally pretty distracting, in a good way.

2019: Incubation
This past year, I’ve felt like there are all these little seeds that have been just waiting, growing, getting stronger, getting ready to burst into the light. Things with careers and relationships and friendships and just…life in general. I’ve been preparing, consciously and unconsciously, to take some steps towards some of my mountains.

So I think 2020 will be the year of building. I think it will be when some of these seeds sprout, and some of them may wither and some of them may grow roots. But we’ll see.

I'm excited to see.

Hardcore Handicrafts

Okay, so part of this entry is a shameless plug. I just opened an Etsy shop of subversive cross stitches and I want everyone to buy things from it. BUT, I also wanted to talk about the kick-ass history of “craftivism,” and of people (especially women) using traditionally feminine art forms to make their voices heard. Because it’s pretty rad. So here.

Three Awesome Ways That Crafting Has Been Used To Fight “The Man”:

1. Allowing people to take economics (and politics) into their own hands.

During the American Revolution, women often made their own clothes and spun their own yarn, but not necessarily just because it was the 1700s. You could buy clothes and yarn in shops all over America, but here’s the kicker—they were all British imports. By making their own cloths, yarn, and textile goods, women were hitting England where it hurt most…its pocketbook. It was just one more way Americans were declaring their independence.

Mahatma Gandhi used a similar tactic during India’s fight for independence. He encouraged the people of India to spin their own thread, rather than buying it from British imperialists. But for Gandhi, the spinning wheel was also a powerful symbol of claiming power non-violently. The act of spinning itself was meditative, and it was a way to show that the people of India could be self-sufficient. By spinning their own thread, they were both hitting British pocketbooks, and sending the message that Britain wasn’t needed. (This is why India’s flag features a spinning wheel.)

And as the punk rock scene (and then like, a bunch of other scenes) has been showing us for decades, making your own stuff is a way to fight corporate greed. It keeps money in the hands of individuals and small business owners, printing T-shirts in basements and hand-drawing posters. If you disagree with the way that large corporations are run, making your own promotional materials is a pretty rad way to show those large corporations that you don’t need them.

2. Giving people a safe place to gather for political meetings.

Who would suspect a group of women gathered in a parlor, knitting socks and hemming quilt squares? It’s just women’s work. Surely they just talk of hats and recipes, not anything radical like the abolition of slavery! Well, joke’s on you, Patriarchy, because that’s exactly what women did for decades. It was difficult, if not impossible, for a woman in the 1800s to host a meeting of abolitionists in her home. Nor could they easily meet elsewhere, without ruining reputation and having to fight sexism ON TOP of racism.

But women found that when they gathered to spin thread, or quilt, or knit, or crochet, or do embroidery, they were left alone. So they used those opportunities to make plans, discuss activism, and create change.

Eventually, these groups started using their handicrafts to raise money for anti-slavery efforts, and began including poems and images to further their cause.

3. Make powerful political statements.

There are so many awesome examples of this, but here are a few of my favorites.

WOMANHOUSE
In late 1971, two female art teachers got real tired of women not being taken seriously in the art world. So they set up a “room of their own” by renovating a California mansion and inviting a bunch of women artists to create installations and performance pieces highlighting women’s experiences. They took a traditionally female space (“the home”) and filled it with all of this thought-provoking feminist art.

Faith Wilding’s “Crocheted Environment,” which is this fascinating combination of a spiderweb and your grandmother’s comforting pillows.

THE AIDS QUILT
In the mid-1980s, activist Cleve Jones got the idea for a quilt of panels with names of those who had lost their lives to AIDS. The response was immediate and enormous, and in 1987, the finished quilt was displayed on the National Mall in Washington. It was the size of a football field and contained 1,920 panels. It was taken to cities throughout the U.S., where more panels were added as money was raised for AIDS research and care. Today, it contains more than 48,000 panels, and similar quilts have been created all over the world.

PUSSY HATS
I still don’t like talking about the November 2016 election and what it meant. But damn if women didn’t SHOW UP to say something about it a few months later. A couple of women in a crocheting class got to talking about their activism and created the now famous pink pussy hat, versions of which were worn by thousands of women across the country in January of 2017. It’s become a powerful symbol of owning womanhood and refusing to be silenced.

My own lil etsy shop ain’t quite the same as an AIDS quilt or installation piece in a Victorian mansion. But I love feeling connected to all of the folks who’ve come before me, needle and thread in hand, ready to change the world. Athena may be the ancient Greek goddess of weaving and handicrafts, but damn if she ain’t the goddess of war, too.



Further reading
Buzzfeed: History of Craftivism
The Woven Road
Medium: Craft's Long History In Radical Protest Movements
Lithub: Ancient Origins of Feminist Craftivism
Timeline: Craftivism, Art, Women
PBS: Knitting Activism
Time: Craftivism Protest
The Wire: Ghandi and the Spinning Wheel
Womanhouse
Aids Memorial Quilt
Pussy Hat Project

1667: What I've Learned from Six Years of NaNoWriMo

(What the hell is NaNoWriMo?! Click here.)

Most of these lessons apply specifically to writers, but there's probably something in here for everyone. I hope so, at least.

First of all, I don't like writing novels. That's an important thing I've learned. I love writing, but I'm not particularly good at writing novels, and also I don't particularly enjoy it. How the hell do people get to be good at writing novels?! I feel like I'm decent at poetry and creative non-fiction because I do it ALL THE TIME. Do novelists just write novels ALL THE TIME?! Anyway, novels are not my strong suit. I'm not a completely horrendous novelist, but I also don't enjoy it enough to practice at this point in my life/writing career. I value NaNoWriMo because I don't think I would have learned that about myself if I hadn't written three full manuscripts, and started three others.

Second of all, that daily word count goal is key. If I fall behind for even one day, I struggle to catch up. Fall behind for two days and I’m doomed. For some, this attitude is disastrous in the event that they fall behind. For me, it motivates me to not fall behind.

Third, 1,667 words are easier to write than 50,000. 50,000 words over 30 days is 1,667 words per day. And that’s totally manageable if you make the time for it. If you can set aside an hour per day, even in increments, you can totally write 1,667 words a day. If that still feels like too many, write 834 words twice a day.

Fourth, you can do hard things. This is a little trite, but the first year that I completed a NaNoWriMo novel, my greatest sense was one of exhausted accomplishment. I wrote a NOVEL. And as clichéd as it sounds, it was a good reminder to carry into other areas of my life. Need to build some shelves? You totally can, because you wrote a novel. Not sure how to play this role? You’ll figure it out, because you wrote a novel. Wanna go to grad school? You totally can, because YOU WROTE A NOVEL.

Fifth, there’s a difference between writer’s block and writer’s fatigue. Writer’s fatigue is when you know what to write, and you just don’t feel like writing it. In those times, the best solution is to take a break. Given the need to meet a daily word count, that break may not be longer than a few hours. But take the break and do something different for a minute. Writer’s block is when you don’t know what to write. Or worse yet, you think you could probably come up with something but you can’t hear any inspiration over the sound of your own inner critic.

Sixth, there will always be an inner critic. There will probably be multiple inner critics. These are the voices who scream from the corners that you don’t know what you’re doing and that all your writing is rubbish and that you should probably give up because nothing you write is original or even interesting and it’s definitely not good. Fortunately, those critics are almost always liars. Unfortunately, the best way to shut them up is to do the very thing they’re telling you not to, which is just to write. (If you're looking for some encouragement, I HIGHLY recommend looking through the archive of NaNoWriMo Pep Talks, wherein published writers give advice and encouragement. The pep talks written by John Green and Dave Eggers are two personal favorites.)

Seventh, just write. Write the memoir or the novel or the poem or the screenplay or the stage play or the radio drama or the narrative journalism or all of the above. The point of NaNoWriMo is to write the thing you’ve always been meaning to write but haven’t gotten around to yet. It’s to help you create a disciplined writing habit. It’s to help you get the words onto the page. Because you can take 50,000 words of a terrible novel and make a good novel out of them. (The way to write a good story is to write a bad story and then fix it.) You can’t take 50,000 words of nothing and make them into a good novel.

Eighth, you’re not a garbage human if you decide to resign from NaNoWriMo. This is especially true if you’re working two jobs, performing in one play, rehearsing for another, preparing an audition for a third, spending more than two hours per day commuting, and discovering that you don’t, in fact, enjoy writing novels. If NaNoWriMo isn’t making you a better or more disciplined writer, isn’t helping you meet your goals, and is in fact taking away from your ability to do well at meeting other goals, then you don’t have to do it. You may feel guilty for a day or two, but ultimately, feel much more at home continuing a blog challenge with your sister and writing poetry and the occasional essay. (When I say “you” in this section, I mean myself. I’m talking about myself.)

The last thing I've learned is that if you embark on this month-long folly, setting up a profile on the NaNoWriMo website is actually a really helpful tool. The pep talks and badges and forums are awesome. I highly recommend it. Both setting up a profile and doing NaNoWriMo.

(photo via)

An Ode to Survival Mode and the Self-Induced Metaphorical Coma

In times of deep grief, of trauma, of upheaval, there seems to be a period of time when people go into “survival mode.” In survival mode, there’s no thought of “the future.” No long-term goals. Very little beyond the day-to-day. You divide your day into hours. “Today I will go to work. Then I’ll do homework. Then I’ll watch this TV show. Then I’ll eat dinner. Then I’ll go to rehearsal. Then I’ll go to bed.”

And you’ve made it through another day. One more down.

Someone may ask you, “How was your day?” And you won’t be able to answer. There isn’t room in survival mode for measuring days that way. You got through the day. Good days or bad days are sort of beyond that baseline of just…getting through days.

I don’t know that you can choose survival mode. I think that just sort of happens when you’re in chaotic circumstances, or when everything’s been turned upside down. (Motherhood actually comes to mind as a time of survival mode. There seems to be this period of time when children are young, when women are just “in the trenches” of motherhood. You’re just trying to make it from breakfast to naptime to dinner to bedtime.)

It’s not a comfortable place to be, in survival mode. But it’s the psyche’s way to protect itself, I think. A sort of gift.

I read once that when burn victims are going through the initial stages of healing, doctors will sometimes induce a coma to allow them to “sleep” through the worst of the pain. It’s medically convenient—a patient in a coma won’t thrash around in their bed, causing further injury and delaying healing. But there’s mercy in it, too. It’s a gift.

I spent the months after Jacob and I separated in a kind of self-induced coma. I think I sensed that there was only so much I could do to heal, and that some of the hurt just needed time. I needed to find some way to numb myself while my psyche worked through what it had to work through.

I remember intentionally distracting myself, during those first spring months. I felt like I was facing and sorting through all of the issues that I could, and what remained was just plain hurt. Hurt that was just going to be there until enough time passed to heal it. So did whatever I could to metaphorically induce that coma. I filled the time with Black-ish, The Handmaid’s Tale, Madmen, The Wire, Dear White People, Atlanta, Broad City, High Maintenance. With podcasts and art journaling. With memorizing and rehearsing and performing and designing whatever I could find. Sometimes something would come along that was a blessed time-filler. A visit from a friend or family member. A trip out of town. Some project around the house.

There are obvious downsides to this. I did a lot of sitting during my survival mode coma, and subsequently got pretty unhealthy. All of my long-term goals were put on hold. I wasn’t really able to reach out to other people in kindness very often or very well—I was too busy trying to keep my sh*t together to help anyone else carry theirs.

But here’s the thing. It kind of worked. My self-induced coma really did keep me from causing further injury to myself or delaying healing. It helped me survive the time that had to pass in order to heal the hurts.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately because I still do it—the self-induced coma thing. Out of habit. I do it even though I don’t have the same need for healing nowadays. Granted, I do still have hurts to work through, some small and some not-so-small, but none are big enough to warrant a self-induced metaphorical coma.

And it’s strange. It’s strange to not need the coma anymore. I’ve spent the last year trying so desperately to fill my days that an afternoon of free time initially gives me a vague sense of panic. I have to remind myself that it’s okay. There isn’t some monster of un-process-able hurt I have to guard myself against anymore.

I think the self-induced metaphorical coma can be easily abused. It can be used to avoid things that actually need to be worked through. But it’s like…it’s like you’re on this boat in the middle of the ocean, and there’s a huge storm. You’ve got to take in the sails and batten down the hatches and secure all the valuables while the hurricane rages. But after you’ve done that, you’ve just kind of got to get through it. You should tune in to the storm now and then to make sure everything’s basically safe, but otherwise, best just pass the time with stories or songs or whatever. Spending all of your time staring into the hurricane won’t actually do anything to the hurricane, and it won’t actually help you. After the storm is passed, then you can try to sail your boat again.

It’s not a perfect metaphor. But whatever. I was on a stormy sea for a while, and I got used to distracting myself from the rage and bluster outside. So sometimes I still cling to the stories and songs that filled my time. But now, spring is slipping towards the warmth of summer, and the skies are calm, and hands are reaching for mine and I’m stepping into the sunshine.

And if the storms rage again, I’ll know what to do.





painting: Snow Storm by Joseph Turner

Itchy Feet

I tend to get restless in the colder months. Shorter days, colder weather, more time inside. I've got cabin fever something awful lately. But I've also got what I call "itchy feet," which is a sort of broader version of cabin fever. Cabin fever is just being a little restless, wanting a change of scenery, needing to get out and do something different. Itchy feet is when you feel all of those things, but more strongly. It's when you want some kind of lasting change, something big to jolt you out of your own status quo. The cure for cabin fever is a simple walk outside or a night with friends. Cures for itchy feet include things like drastic haircuts, redecorating the living room, and impromptu road trips.

The name isn't great. "Itchy feet." It sounds more medical than metaphorical. But a friend used it once years ago, and now I can't think of anything else to call that feeling of wanting something big and undefinable. It's like a "cabin fever squared" sort of feeling.

A few months ago, while I was doing something mundane like folding laundry, I thought to myself, "This is not the life I want to be living." So I spent the next few days thinking about the life I DO want to be living...what it looks like, what it includes. I know this is cheesy, but I'm a big believer in creating the life you want for yourself.

But here's the problem. And I fear this will sound obnoxious, because I'm really so lucky in so many ways. But a lot of my ideal life depends either on time passing, or other things that are outside of my control, or both. Here's what I'd love to be doing:
- Working as an adjunct faculty member for a university's online program
- Living in an RV full-time
- Making awesome theatre and film, both fluffy and deep (and ideally being paid for it)
- Continuing to pursue my other passions of writing, art, etc.
- Being in a better place with my mental and emotional health, having worked through divorce-induced (and previously induced) trauma

These are all things that I'm actively working towards. But I have to finish my MFA before I can apply for adjunct jobs, and then be hired. I've got to solidify my financial situation before I can make the move to full-time RV life. My contributions to theatre and film depend on me being cast, or me finding the time to create my own work, or collaborate with others. And as far as mental and emotional health goes, that'll just take time (and the continued guidance of my awesome therapist).

The main thing I lack right now is patience. Which I'm learning I don't have much of, in the grand scheme of things.

I am so so so lucky to be doing so many awesome things in my life right now. So there's this part of me that's like, "Be happy NOW, girl. You've got so much going for you!" And it's true. I do. But my feet are still SO ITCHY. I love writing my MFA. But I'm suffering from two parts writer's fatigue and one part writer's block in the last part of my thesis, a draft of which is due on Sunday. And I have SO MUCH FUN playing Maggie at the Hale every other night. But I'm craving something I can sink my teeth into--I want something challenging and provocative and thoughtful. My comedy muscles are well-worked. Now I want some drama. I'll get to flex those muscles some in an upcoming production of Othello (details TBA), but remember how we also talked about how I'm impatient?

I sort of have the vague sense that I'm not doing anything particularly meaningful to the world right now. I'm doing a lot of things that are meaningful for myself, and I'm doing a lot of things that will prepare me to do meaningful things. But I dunno, the world will little note nor long remember that one page of my art journal that I spent my afternoon working on.

I don't doubt that the ways I spend my time are generally fairly admirable, or at least above reproach. But it doesn't quite feel important enough.

Finally, I live alone, and that means that if I'm not around people for a while, I kind of sometimes forget how to...be a person? I don't know. Like I just get weird in all of my social interactions when I do leave the house. Weirder than usual.

(Tangential note: To any new friends I made in 2017, I'm really grateful for you. You're getting a pretty messed-up version of Liz right now...I've been a wreck, off and on, since February. I know and accept that I'm generally emotional and awkward and weird, but I have been more emotional, awkward, and weird than usual this year. Even if you haven't noticed it, I sure have. For the handful of new friendships I've made this year, or strengthened this year, I keep thinking, "Geez. It's too bad this person didn't meet me BEFORE 2017." 2017 has been rough for America and humanity in general, to be honest, but divorce poured gasoline on whatever fires I was already tending. And to add an additional metaphor, divorce also seems to have brought my whole house of cards down, and I've been trying to just function day to day while I also rebuild that house, hopefully this time with something sturdier than cards.)

I'm grateful for my "Bundle of Trouble" family, for Marco Polo conversations and backstage chats with Mandee, for texts with Beckah, for creative folks who play Tom Waits' albums on Halloween, for Cinema Sundays with Laura, for yoga with Adele, for shows and IHOP nights with the Improvables. Y'all keeping me grounded until I can get something more solid under these itchy feet of mine.

Also, I'm probably gonna re-decorate my living room this weekend.

A resignation

Liz Chapman
123 Address Place
Salt Lake City, UT 11111

Sunday, November 6, 2016

National Novel Writing Month
123 The Internet Blvd.
The Internet, The World 00000

Dear Sir or Madam:

This letter is to regretfully inform you that I have chosen to tender my resignation from this year's NaNoWriMo. Please know that it is very likely that I will participate in future years, and that your organization still has my full and enthusiastic support.

I am very grateful for the inspiration and guidance you have given me in past years. I first participated in NaNoWriMo in 2012, with a manuscript I did not complete that year, but which has since been finished, and which never would have existed without your group. I have completed a novel every November since then, and now have three full novel manuscripts. Through my participation in NaNoWriMo, I have learned discipline, how to overcome writer's block, the value of writing continually in order to improve, and have gained enormous confidence in my ability to create work. I am eternally grateful to your organization for all of the things you have given me.

In order that you may have a deeper understanding of my resignation, allow me to present my reasons:

I am currently pursuing my MFA in Creative Writing from an online university program. This semester, I am taking a class in ekphrastic poetry and a playwrighting class. Both of these courses demand that I complete weekly writing assignments, and in a few weeks, I will begin work on a full-length play manuscript. To add a 50,000-word novel to my to-do list gives me a sense of diluting my creativity...it forces me to focus on breadth instead of depth. I am not able to give any of my writing projects my full attention, especially with other demands like working as an actress and keeping a day job. Normally, I would reject "I'm spread too thin" as an excuse. I feel you must make writing a priority in order to be good at it. But with my MFA program, it's ALREADY a priority. It doesn't make sense to add a secondary writing priority. Doing so makes me less able to do meaningful work in either place.

This MFA program forces me to write regularly, which is one of the great strengths of NaNoWriMo. If that need is being met through homework assignments, I don't have as strong of a need to participate in writing a novel during November.

For me, NaNoWriMo is also a yearly reminder of the value of just creating, and that I am capable of writing, despite frustration or fatigue. But after 3 years, it's a lesson I feel I carry with me more permanently. I have less of a need for that reminder this year, though I'm sure the time will come when I need it again.

I have been worried that my resignation will be a disappointment to friends who have watched me on my yearly NaNoWriMo journey. I even set up a support group on Facebook for those who are participating this year. I regret stepping away from my novel, and worry about what it will mean for those friends who I began with. But ultimately, I knew this resignation was the best choice for me. I will still be available to offer moral support to my fellow WriMos, and I look forward to finishing my novel in the future. This resignation was not a decision made out of fatigue or frustration with my story or a lack of confidence. It was a thoughtful decision based on what my long-term and short-term goals are, and whether or not NaNoWriMo this year was helping me meet those goals.

Thank you for everything you do. You have inspired and continue to inspire generations of writers. I look forward to working with you again in the future.

Sincerely,

Liz Chapman

The "no's" that hurt

Acting = lots of rejection. We all know this. It’s part of life in the arts, blah blah blah. I’ve gotten to be pretty good at dealing with it, but sometimes there are “no’s” that hurt more than others. In an effort to embrace some sense of catharsis and to be honest about my journey as an actress, I thought I’d share a few “no’s” that hurt.

(Wait. I need to make a disclaimer. I 100% respect the casting choices made by the producers in all of these cases. I don’t share these stories to say “I should have been cast!” or to complain or to talk down these producers or theatres. It’s no director or theatre’s “fault” that I didn’t get the part. I’m just trying to be honest about my experiences as an actress and what I learned from them.)

#1. “Les Miserables” at Hale Center Theatre Orem, 2014
I auditioned for this show shortly after playing Sister in “Damn Yankees” at this same theatre, with this same director. Madame Thenardier is one of my DREAM roles, and I was like, 95% certain I’d make it. So when I didn’t even get a call-back, I was pretty crushed. But here’s the reality—I was still in “BYU-I mode,” where if I didn’t get cast in one show, I was almost CERTAIN to be cast in the next. I’d gotten cast in the FIRST thing I auditioned for in Utah, and so there was nothing in my experience to teach me that my being cast wasn’t guaranteed. So I did a mediocre audition, counting on the director knowing me to get me through. But I didn’t do anything in my audition that showed I could play Madame Thenardier. I didn’t do anything in my audition that showed that I was willing to work hard. I didn’t do anything in my audition to show I cared enough about this to give a stellar audition.

This one hurt because it was a dream role. But it also hurt because it was the first time I had to face the reality of rejection in the arts…like, REALLY face it. It was the first time I realized I couldn’t count on the director knowing me, and that I had to truly bring it to every audition, every time. It hurt to learn those things. (But I’m damn glad I did.)

#2. “Peter and the Starcatcher” at Hale West Valley, 2016
This one hurt only because it came right after “Beau Jest,” and I was so in love with “Beau Jest” that I just didn’t want to stop coming to the theatre. I know that there is no role for me in that show—I don’t think I would have made a good Molly. But a few of my “Beau Jest” family members were cast in the show, and it was a little heart-breaking to watch them get to keep doing this thing I love, while I sat at home at night. I had a similar experience with “Christmas Carol,” right after “Oklahoma”…I just loved doing shows at the theatre so much that I didn’t want to stop.

#3. Netflix Original Movie, 2016
Oh man, this one was tough. I won’t go into the details of which film this was, but I’ll say this. My initial audition was one of the best auditions I have ever done in my life. It feels so boastful to say that I nailed the audition, but…I nailed that audition. I was called back on the spot. For a NETFLIX ORIGINAL MOVIE. It wasn’t a huge role, but it was a decent one. Like, I would have been on set for probably 3-5 days. And I nailed the call-back, too. The call-back was with both the casting director and the film’s director, and after I read, the director just looked at me and said, “That was perfect. I have NO notes. So…tell me more about your experience?” We chatted, and I left feeling really really really good about it. I was one of the last people seen that day, and when I signed out, I discovered that I was the ONLY person called back for that role. I knew nothing was guaranteed, but everything about the experience gave me this sense that I had a really good chance.

Here’s the thing about film/television. Often, they’ll cast everyone ahead of time, maybe have a table read, then start shooting. But sometimes, for smaller roles, you won’t hear until later. That happened to me with “Mosaic.” I auditioned in August, they started shooting, and then I got a call saying, “You’ve been offered the role. Can you be there on Thursday?” So when I heard that the Netflix original I had auditioned for started shooting, I was like, “Okay. So I probably didn’t get it. But maybe!”

I had a friend who was a PA on the show, so he kept posting pictures on Instagram of the shoot, and I kept waiting to see if I got the call. Then another friend posted about how she was called in to be a featured extra on the movie. Then another friend posted about landing this amazing speaking role in the movie. And I just kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting, just on the off-chance that I was still cast somehow. I’ve learned that star power carries a little more weight than talent/being right for the role, so I knew that if they got someone with more credits, with a more well-known face and name, they would get the role. But I didn’t want to be the needy girl texting my friends on the project, saying, “Hey, do you know who they got to play ____?”

And then, finally, my PA friend posted about “wrap day,” the last day of filming. And I hadn’t gotten the call. I didn’t get the part. I looked up who DID get the part on IMDB, and she definitely has way more credits than I do. Which is fair enough. And I’m sure she was awesome. She had a great look for the role, and I’m sure I can learn a few things from watching her (and my other friends) in the movie when it came out.

There will be other chances for me, I know. I just want everything NOW.

#4. “Sister Act” at Hale West Valley, 2016
It’s kind of taken me a while to really realize how this one hurts. Present tense, because it’s opening in a few days.

This partly hurt because this “no” came towards the end of this weird sort of surge of “no’s” that I experienced in June and July this year…it just felt like one after another. So not getting called back for “Sister Act” felt like I was being kicked while I was down.

I really, 100% really do understand why I wasn’t cast. My audition was…not great. My song choice was okay, but in retrospect, maybe not the best. And I didn’t sing it well. (In fact, I bombed the ending—played it off as comedy, but I still bombed it.) I didn’t act it well. And even if I had, there is nothing I could bring to the show that someone else couldn’t bring just as well. And “Cabaret” conflicted with like, the first three weeks of “Sister Act” rehearsal (almost half of the rehearsal process). So even if I did have a really great audition, if there are other people who could bring what I could to the show who could be THERE for the entire rehearsal process, then of COURSE, they should be the ones with their names on the list.

But it still hurt. (Hurts.)

My sister and I grew up with the movie “Sister Act.” It’s a huge part of my childhood. There are some significant differences between the film and the musical, but I still feel the same sense of nostalgia. And the messages of “Sister Act” are so beautiful and important to me…messages about being yourself, about worshipping in your own way, about allowing others to express their faith (or lack thereof) in ways that are meaningful to them. About worrying less about appearances and rules and more about genuine spiritual experiences. And those are messages that are especially needed in the Utah community where I live, and it would have been a beautiful privilege to be a part of sharing it.

And some of my dearest, dearest friends are in the show…people whom I love and admire for their work onstage and their friendship offstage. I’ve been so blessed to make some amazing friends since moving to Utah…it’s one of the greatest blessings of my life, in fact. So I feel a little sad that they all get to tell this story that I love together, and that I can’t be a part of it. And from all the posts I’ve seen on social media, it seems like this show is a really special experience for everyone involved. It seems like it stands out for the cast as a really unified production, and a really fulfilling experience, and one that means a lot to them. I’ve been in shows like that…where everyone just sort of feels that this cast is special, and this show is different from the others they’ve done. And I wish with my whole heart I could be a part of this one.

I don’t begrudge my friends the experience. (Friends in “Sister Act,” if you’re reading this, PLEASE don’t feel weird or bad or anything! Don’t stop posting, don’t stop loving your experience, please continue to embrace it for all that it is. Embrace it MORE for what it is.) My feelings aren’t jealousy—I don’t want to take away something you have and have it for myself. I just wish I could share it with you. I’m excited to come watch your work, regardless, though.

The positive thing is that each of these “no’s” also led to other “yes’s.” Whether that means being involved in other projects, or having the chance to take a class, or to focus on writing or school or my family. And each of these “no’s” did teach me something about being an actress, whether it’s to bring your A game to every single moment of every single audition, or that sometimes, you’re just not right for a part, A game or not. To the people who didn’t cast me in the past, or won’t cast me in the future, either way, I have an opportunity to learn and grow, and I respect your choices. I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep working. I’ll keep auditioning. And I’ll probably keep hurting every now and then. But it’s totally worth it. You’ve got to get through the “no’s” to get to the “yes’s.” And I’ll keep doing that. I don’t know how to not keep doing that.

Post-script: It felt really good to write all of this out. I've been catharsisized, and I feel better about life in general already. 

photos via this guy and this guy

The Finish Line

I just sprinted through 3 days worth of work and homework and to-do list items in one day.

Late last night, I suddenly realized that my schedule was alarmingly full for Friday and Saturday, and wouldn't really give me much time to do all the things I needed to do. So I had two options: don't do any of it, or do it all today. I chose the latter.

I've been "on the go" since about 8:30 this morning. It's nearing midnight. Logically, I know I should go to bed like, RIGHT NOW, but I needed to take a moment and detox. Then I can take all the survival stress of today, fold it up, put it away, and leave it until it's absolutely necessary. (Or dismiss it entirely, really.) For me, stress is sort of residual...unless I consciously tell myself "It's all taken care of," I'll have this sort of background hum of stress for the next few days/weeks/months after a mini-crisis like today's.

But dammit if I didn't write a short screenplay, critique five flash nonfiction essays, respond to two poetry critiques, clean the house, buy groceries, take care of my nephew, do laundry, work 3 hours, write four notes to friends, plan a Sunday school lesson, make rice krispy treats, pick up a prescription refill, and balance my budget. TODAY.

I'm exhausted.

But now it means that I can give my full attention to working at the U of U tomorrow and doing a performance of Jane Eyre, and then doing TWO performances of Jane Eyre on Saturday, followed by an sibling-in-law family reunion.

Listen, I'm not sharing this because I recommend it as a lifestyle. It was kind of awful. Every time I got near my bed, it was like being sucked into a vortex...I just wanted to lay down and just...lay down. I'm sharing it because I have a compulsive need to write about my experiences, and to assure you that if you are feeling overwhelmed, you most likely CAN do all those things on your list.

I mean, it's probably fine if you don't, too. I've taken that path plenty of times. The world hasn't stopped turning every time I don't get things done.

Anyway. If you feel like validating me for accomplishing hella things today, that's cool. I'm going to bed, though, so I probably won't read it for a while.

photo via Seattle Municipal Archives, "Footrace 1925" 

Things to Look Forward To

Hey, guess what? It's almost spring! I can feel it. I know we've still got a few weeks of cold left, but March is barreling towards us, and I await her with open arms. But aside from spring, there are a handful of things that are making life exciting right now. It's especially nice to have all of these sunny things to look forward to after the post-show doldrums of Beau Jest ending. Here's what's on the docket for the next few months:

In a few hours, I'm getting on a plane to meet my sister and her girlfriend, and my mom and stepdad in southern California. We'll spend two days running around Disneyland, and I can't wait. My sister and I have been texting each other countdowns to this day for the last month and a half.

Then, the following weekend, Jacob and I and a few friends will be heading up to Rexburg to see our incredibly talented friends and family perform in BYU-Idaho's production of Antigone. It's been an awesome experience for those involved, and I'm excited to see the final product. Oh, and that weekend, we also get to watch the Oscars. And you know how much I love the Oscars.

And THEN, the weekend after THAT, Jacob and I are going to New York City for a whirlwind weekend. Jacob made it to final callbacks for The New School (did I mention he's auditioning for grad schools?), and even though we're not sure how we could afford moving to New York, it seems foolish to throw away this chance, so he's going. And since I was free, I decided to go with him. I'm planning on spending every day trying to see shows (lottery for Hamilton--I wanna be in the room where it happens), and possibly wandering the Met, while Jacob auditions.

Sometime in the spring, I'll be going to Germany to visit Dad and Mary. I had a big Europe tour planned, but I don't think the timing is right. I may try to make a weekend trip to Paris, but my epic two-week excursion will have to wait.

And when I return from Germany, it will be time (appropriately enough) to begin rehearsals for Cabaret. I just got cast in Utah Repertory Theatre's upcoming production. I'll be playing Frenchie, one of the Kit Kat Club performers. I haven't played such a dance heavy role in about ten years, and I'm still sore from call-backs on Sunday. But I've got until June to get my rear in gear, and I'm THRILLED to be doing this show. I'll be reuniting with some old friends, and I'm excited to work with some new ones. The show runs from mid-August to early September, if ya wanna come! (Although, fair warning, this is not a Hale-Theatre-Family-Style-Entertainment show. But more details on why I decided to do this show anyway forthcoming.)

What are you looking forward to nowadays?

photo via

Mid-NaNoWriMo Thoughts

I feel like I'm trying to crash through brick walls on my NaNoWriMo novel lately. Partly because I planned this novel VERY poorly. And partly because I'm working on like, two other writing projects simultaneously. And partly because I have a crush on "Beau Jest" (the show I'm rehearsing), and it's all I can think about. But whatever the factors for my struggles, the point is that I'm struggling. So to give me a break from trying to novel-solve, I thought I'd share this bit of inspiration.

Ray Bradbury once told a story about how when he was 12 years old, he decided he wanted to be a writer. He had taken to learning magic tricks, and helping with carnivals that came to town. One day on a trip near Lake Michigan, he met a carnival magician named “Mr. Electrico.” (You can read the whole story of Mr Electrico in Bradbury's words here.) Bradbury wrote:

Mr. Electrico was a fantastic creator of marvels. He sat in his electric chair every night and was electrocuted in front of all the people, young and old, of Waukegan, Illinois. When the electricity surged through his body he raised a sword and knighted all the kids sitting in the front row below his platform. I had been to see Mr. Electrico the night before. When he reached me, he pointed his sword at my head and touched my brow. The electricity rushed down the sword, inside my skull, made my hair stand up and sparks fly out of my ears. He then shouted at me, "Live forever!"

A few days after that experience, back home in Arizona, Ray Bradbury began writing. He wrote one thousand words a day, every day, for ten years. Finally, when he was 22, he sat down at his typewriter and wrote the words “The Lake.” And then he just started writing whatever came to his head—a beautiful and sad tale about a boy who’s childhood best friend drowned in a lake, and when he revisits, he discovers that her body has been discovered, and it’s been preserved, small and unchanging, while he’s grown. And Ray Bradbury sat back from his typewriter, and he wept, because he knew that for the first time in his life, he had written something good. He wrote every single day after that, until the day he died, sixty-nine years later.

I’ve always loved that story. It reminds me that being good at something takes patience. I can’t imagine doing something every day for ten years if I wasn’t any good at it. I’d get discouraged. I’d give up. I do give up. Because it seems like MADNESS. To stubbornly persist in doing something you don’t think you’re any good at. I think back on my own life, and even things I’m pretty good at now, I feel like I’ve always had some small portion of talent. Granted, it’s very very small, and I’ve grown a lot through doing. And I suppose it’s possible that Ray Bradbury’s first ten years worth of writing was actually good, and he just had super high standards.

I feel like I’m rambling.

But the point is that any time I get discouraged in trying to write this story, or when I don’t get a callback or a role, Ray Bradbury’s story helps me. Just keep doing. Just keep working. If the end result of this exact work isn’t great, it’s simply practice for the work that will be great. And you can’t be great without the practice.

So here’s to the practice. For forging ahead in your writing when you didn’t plan things out well. For working that audition song when you’re sure you’ll fail. Just fail. You’ll probably survive your failure better than you realized you could.

photo via

Calling Writers Anonymous

I'm in the middle of NaNoWriMo. And it was rough for a little while, but the last couple of days, I've been flying through my daily word count. I'm also working on two, no three, other writing projects--a journal of "Beau Jest" rehearsals, the Non-Paper Poetry Project, and this other secret project that I'll tell you about later. And I just signed up for grad school classes which will start in January, for my degree in Writing.

And now I'm blogging because I just want to KEEP WRITING.

I think I have a problem.

What I've Learned About Acting in Salt Lake City, Part 2: The Theatre Scene

Welcome! This is Part 2 of a 3-part series! Part 1: Getting Serious, Part 2: The Theatre Scene, and Part 3: The Television & Film Scene. 

DISCLAIMER: I'm still fairly new here! My info is limited to my own experience. There are plenty of other actors out there who will have different advice and different insights. I am not any kind of resident expert--just sharing what I know.* So ask around--lots of other folks ARE resident experts. 


Here's the big pro: There are TONS of theaters out here! Mormons love the arts, and there are dozens of community theaters and a hearty handful of professional theaters.

Here's the big con: There may be tons of theaters out here, but everyone who works at them knows each other. It's one big incestuous theatre family. BYU has a huge musical theatre program and a huge acting program, and UVU's theatre department is INCREDIBLE. And the teachers from those programs also direct at several of the theaters. And most of the directors direct at multiple theatres. So it can be kinda tough to "break in" as a new face. (I seriously just got lucky with "Damn Yankees.") Persistence will be necessary.

And here's something that's either a pro or a con, depending on you: There's a BIG emphasis on musicals. There definitely is interesting, push-the-envelope, amazing theatre going on, but it's generally a little smaller, and doesn't always pay quite as well. So get comfy with musical theatre. (And you may be able to sing, and you may be able to dance, but the people at auditions with you have been doing both, with professional teachers, for 15-30 hours per week, for YEARS. So either get hella good, or get hella good at selling whatever you've got.)

So here's what I'd recommend:

1. Build your audition repertoire. Buy a binder and fill it with sheet music of songs you know, and make 16-32 bar cuttings of them. Bring it to auditions. Have a handful of monologues memorized or handy (30 seconds - 1 minute, both comedic and dramatic.) Practice often. Build variety. Know your strengths and play to them.

2. Get audition coaching. Starting with my "Oklahoma" audition, I've been going to Audition Advantage in Bountiful, and IT'S SO AWESOME. Erin, Jean (spelling? Sorry!), and Anne are all amazing. They can help you find a song, give you inside info about the production team and what they'll be looking for, coach you on the acting and singing, help you cut your music, help you pick an outfit, RECORD A REHEARSAL TRACK. I love it. No matter how good you are, it's always helpful to have fresh eyes. When I went there with my audition song for "Oklahoma," I was thinking I don't know what else these ladies can do for me. But Erin helped me break down the song and fill in the gaps, and I don't think I would have been called back without her guidance. It runs about $60/hour, but they'll also pro-rate that if you take less time. More info here.

Three frequently asked questions:

1. How do you format your resume?
For a long time, I approached that question like a graphic designer, and made GORGEOUS resumes. But in the acting world, straight-forward is actually best. Times New Roman, Helvetica, or similarly familiar font, no big graphics or flashy colors. You can see my current resume here. Print out a dozen copies, 8x10, ready to go so you don't have to worry about it on your next audition.

2. Should you join Equity? 
That's up to you. There are pros and cons, and it takes some research, but for most people, the answer is "no." Not unless you are living in New York and acting full-time. Because there just aren't enough Equity theatres in Salt Lake, and if you're Equity, you can't always work at non-Equity theatres. Joining a union always includes this dichotomy: You'll get less work, but it will probably be better paid work.

3. How do you find out about auditions? 
Most theaters will post their audition info online. You can also follow a handful of Facebook Pages to see audition notices (Audition Advantage is a big one, along with Theatre People of Utah Valley.)


Finally, here's a little info on some of the big theaters around here. (There are SO MANY theatres, you guys. I'm just listing the ones I've heard the most about or worked with personally.) Each of them hold regular auditions...the best thing is to keep checking back on their websites (some also have an email list that will notify you of upcoming auditions). If you're OCD like me, you can even make an organized list of these auditions.

Pioneer Theatre
Salt Lake City
Professional LORT venue. They hold auditions in New York and Salt Lake. They rehearse during the day for 2-3 weeks and shows run for about 4 weeks. Paid (equity rates). Audition info here.

Hale Centre Theatre
West Valley (close to Salt Lake)
Hub of musical theatre and comedies! (Think family-style theatre.) Very professional--take good care of their cast and crew. Shows are almost always double-cast. Rehearse for 6-8 weeks in the evenings, shows run 4-8 weeks. Paid ($15 per rehearsal, $25-$65 per show). Audition info here.

Hale Center Theatre Orem
Orem (close to Provo)
The smaller, more intimate cousin of the Hale in West Valley. Same details as above, but pay is a little lower ($15-35 per show). Audition info here (click on the side link that says "Auditions).

Egyptian Theatre
Park City (about 40 minutes east of Salt Lake)
Serves as both a venue for concerts, stand up, recitals, and films, and occasionally produces shows. Rehearsals and run times vary. Occasionally paid. Audition info here.

Grassroots Shakespeare Company
Orem (close to Provo)
Founded and run by a few college-aged enthusiasts, they take an awesome sort of "punk" approach to Shakespeare. Or an "Elizabethean" approach, depending on how you look at it. Just like in Shakespearean times, actors rehearse very little, bring their own costumes and props, and perform in an outdoor space. A few of their past productions include a production of "Titus Andronicus" with a "splatter zone" audience area, and a production of "The Little Mermaid," told through verses of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. Minimal rehearsal, shows run 3-6 weeks, with occasional exceptions. Also produces 3 plays as part of its touring company. Unpaid. Audition info here.

Salt Lake Acting Company (SLAC)
Salt Lake City
Home of some of Utah's "edgier" theatre. They do everything from musicals to comedies to dramas, as well as develop new plays. They also do a yearly show called "Saturday's Voyeur" (har har), which is an irreverent satire of current events, focusing on local culture. Rehearsals vary. Shows run 4-6 weeks. Often paid, but rates vary, and sometimes unpaid. Audition info here.

Utah Repertory Theatre
Salt Lake City
A tamer cousin of SLAC. They also produce musicals and straight plays. They provide detailed content advisories for their shows, but will still do theatre that wouldn't work at places like the Hales. Rehearsal schedules vary, but generally evenings for about 6 weeks. Shows run 2-3 weeks. Occasionally paid (rates vary, usually not more than a few hundred dollars). Audition info here.

Centerpoint Legacy Theatre
Centerville (about 30 minutes north of Salt Lake City)
Big fancy theatre that does lots of professional shows. Their season usually features similar fare to the Hales (family-oriented musicals and comedies). Rehearses in the evenings for 6-8 weeks, shows run 4-6 weeks. Unpaid. Audition info here.

Scera 
Orem (close to Provo)
This venue is both a movie theatre and a live theatre. They have both an indoor space and an outdoor space. They have a big focus on education, so they do a lot of theatre for young audiences. Generally rehearses in the evenings. Shows run 2-6 weeks. Unpaid. Audition info here.

Utah Shakespeare Festival
Cedar City (about 3 1/2 hours south of Salt Lake City)
Summer-stock theatre, repertory style. Auditions are held in late summer/early fall for the next year's season. Full-time summer work. Paid. Audition info here.

The Grand Theatre
Salt Lake City
Focuses on musicals. Rehearsals run evenings, about 6 weeks. Shows run 3-4 weeks. Paid. Audition info here.

Desert Star Playhouse
Murray (10 minutes south of Salt Lake City)
Dinner theatre that does locally-focused parodies of well-known works (stuff with titles like "Star Wards" and "Murder on the Frontrunner Express"). Open auditions are held seasonally. Shows are usually double-cast and run for about 3 months. Paid. Audition info here.

PYGmalion Theatre Company
Salt Lake City
Theatre focused on women and women's stories! They put a big focus on original works, but also do well-known plays as well. Shows are usually cast for the entire season during one audition process. Paid (around $1000). Audition info here.

The Echo Theatre
Provo
Small community theatre--actors usually assist with costuming, set construction, etc. A great place to work and create collaboratively. Rehearsals run in the evenings, usually about 6 weeks, and shows run 3-6 nights a week for about 2-4 weeks. Also runs short play festivals. Unpaid. Audition info here.

HAPPY AUDITIONING! 

Have anything else you'd like to add? Give us your tips and insider info in the comments!

* Like, seriously. Part of me feels like I don't have any right to be giving others advice. But others helped me on my journey, so I want to pay that forward. 

What I've Learned About Acting in Salt Lake City, Part 1: Getting Serious

Welcome! This is Part 1 of a 3-part series! Part 1: Getting Serious, Part 2: The Theatre Scene, and Part 3: The Television & Film Scene. 

DISCLAIMER: I'm still fairly new here! My info is limited to my own experience. There are plenty of other actors out there who will have different advice and different insights. I am not any kind of resident expert--just sharing what I know.* So ask around--lots of other folks ARE resident experts. 

Jacob and I have been here in the Salt Lake City area for a little over a year now, and I've been thinking lately about how much I've learned as an actor. Not just when it comes to the actual craft of acting, but how to make it your career. So I thought I'd share with you a few of the things I've learned!

First of all, why move to Salt Lake City, Utah to pursue a career in ACTING? A few reasons:

1. It's pretty here. (Hiking! Mountains! Trees! Nature!)
2. The cost of living is pretty darn affordable. Rent for a 1-bedroom apartment runs in the $400-$800 range, depending on your neighborhood.
3. Lots of films and television shows get made here, because filmmakers get a BIG tax break from the state.
4. It's a great "training ground" if you'd like to move to Chicago, LA, or NYC someday. If you do choose to move to those places, you'll be competing with people who have IMDB credits and regional theaters on their resumes. If you DON'T have those things, SLC is a great place to gain them.
5. Most projects are non-union, so if you're not Equity or SAG, you can still find lots of work.

Do I have you convinced? Okay, here's what I've learned!

Okay, here are a few things that people have told me, or that I've learned on my own, to help you build a career in acting. I'm gonna focus specifically on theatre and screen in separate posts, so here are just some thoughts about acting in general.

1. Make an investment in your career. 
Be wise, and don't pay for things you can't afford. BUT, you should definitely expect to pay some money for good audition outfits, good makeup (for the ladies), and good headshots. Optional expenses include things like a pro membership on IMDB, a personal acting website, business cards and postcards, and lots more. Keep track of your expenses, though! Because if you make any money acting, you can write them off on your taxes.

2. Seriously. Get good headshots. 
This is so so so important. Like, this is what will get you in the door, and help people remember you. Here's what a headshot should be: It should focus on your face, and specifically on your eyes. Choose colors that flatter your skin and hair color, and stay away from black, white, and busy patterns. You should have two main headshots: one "commercial" (smiling, friendly) and one "theatrical" (serious "acting" headshot).

3. Remember that there are LOTS of factors that go into casting. 
Talent is a part of it, but it's only one small part. Other factors include look, type, voice, availability, compatibility, how much they'd have to pay you, pure instinct, what phase of the moon it is, the will of reptilian overlords, etc. It's impossible to know why casting decisions are made. And remember that success is a numbers game, as much as anything else. For every "yes," there will be at least ten "no's." So just keep auditioning. Sometimes it's pure statistics...the more you audition, the more likely it is that you'll be cast. Keep getting yourself out there, even if it feels like nothing is happening. (And when nothing is, remember the parable of "F you, Matt Damon.") So just give it the best you've got, and don't get too discouraged when you don't get something.

4. Actually, expect to be discouraged. 
Sometimes. Not all the time. But discouragement is almost inevitable. So is poverty. Especially when you start out. I think a lot of people start out by thinking that they won't experience discouragement and poverty like every other actor, but you probably will. That's okay. Join the ranks.

5. Keep an audition diary. 
It can be as detailed or as simple as you'd like it to be. This serves a couple of purposes. One, it will help you keep track of who you've auditioned for before, and if you've done any followup. Two, it will give you a chance to record thoughts and/or things you've learned. Finally, it actually offers a bit of encouragement to see what you've gotten, compared to what you haven't gotten. (Example linked here.)

6. Take a class.
Acting is a muscle, and if you're not working for a little while, taking a class is a great way to help you improve your work. It can also give you networking** opportunities, and help you build your audition repertoire. Sometimes another pair of eyes can see something about your work that you're not seeing, and can give you additional advice.

7. ASK for help, guidance, and advice.
When Jacob and I first made a plan to move to Utah, I sent messages out to everyone I knew who worked in acting in this area. I asked them every question I could think of, and their advice and guidance made my own career here possible. Sometimes we're afraid to ask for help, because we think it will make us look weak, or we're afraid to bother someone. But the reality is that people often respect those who ask for help, and they're often happy to provide their thoughts. It has always been 100% worth it to reach out to others in the field.

8. Learn to look your best.
*sigh* As much as I believe that our appearances aren't a measure of our talent or worth, they ARE a factor in casting and working. So ladies, learn to put on makeup that makes you look your best. Learn to put on fake eyelashes and take good care of your hair. Gentleman, learn how to style your hair and shave well. Everyone, learn what colors and lines flatter your shape, and wear clothes that make you look good. We all have insecurities, and that's okay--just don't dwell on them. Learn to play to your strengths.

9. Remember that your body is your most important tool. 
Treat it well. Learn to eat well, sleep well, exercise well. Don't fill your body with things that will harm it, like drugs or alcohol, or excessive sugar.

10. Decide whether you want to pursue paid or non-paid work. 
This is the big, ongoing debate in the world of the arts in general. Here's what I figure. You've worked hard to become a good actor, and you deserve to be paid for your work. But not everyone has the funds to pay you, nor the time/resources to find that funding. So you can decide for yourself on a case-by-case basis, or make a big decision and stick to it. For me, I focus on pursuing paid work. BUT, as I'm trying to build my resume and demo reel and IMDB credits, I'll sometimes take unpaid work if it will provide me with those things, or if it will give me a unique networking opportunity.

11. Don't ever forget your CRAFT. 
This is the most important thing. This is my deepest belief about acting as a career. In the midst of all of these businesslike tasks--"networking," getting headshots, taking classes, updating your resume, tracking your expenses--don't ever lose sight of your work AS AN ACTOR. Don't get into this for the fame. Get into this for the art. Take every opportunity to continue to improve and learn and grow. Challenge yourself. Connect with and listen to your fellow actors, on and offstage/screen. Your work as an actor must be about the human experience. If you don't know why you're doing this, that's okay. But try to find out. Think about and create your own philosophy of acting. Learn about techniques and systems, and find tools that work for you. Continually build your tool-box as an actor. Don't forget why you're doing this.

HAPPY AUDITIONING! 

Have anything else you'd like to add? Give us your tips and insider info in the comments!

* Like, seriously. Part of me feels like I don't have any right to be giving others advice. But others helped me on my journey, so I want to pay that forward. 

** I kind of hate that word "networking." It feels so cold and selfish and business-like. But I don't have a better word for it. Sometimes it's just that you want to take an opportunity to work with an artist you respect and admire. 

"The first draft of anything is s***." --Ernest Hemingway

In exactly 13 days, I and around 400,000 other aspiring novelists will begin the epic task of writing a novel. In one month.

Since 1999, every November has been National Novel Writing Month, or "NaNoWriMo." The goal is to write a draft of a 50,000 word novel (about the length of "The Great Gatsby") during the 30 days of November. This means writing at a rate of about 1667 words per day.

Crazy, right?

Right.

As long-time readers of this blog will know, this will be my 4th year of doing NaNoWriMo, and it's one of the hardest and awesomest things I've ever done.

Because the point isn't to write a GOOD novel. It's just to pound out that draft of the book you always SAID you'd write. Because you can take 50,000 words of rubbish and edit it to make a novel. You can't make a good novel out of nothing. I completed my first novel in 2013, and just a few months ago, finished a draft that's good enough to send out to agents and publishers. Because you gotta start SOMEWHERE.

So who's with me?! If you're in, there are a few handy resources and tools that have helped me in past years. Here they are!

1. NaNoWriMo Website
This is one of the best resources. On the website, you can update your daily word count, join local regions and hold write-ins, get pep talks from published authors, and visit the forums. I LOVE the pep talks, and the forums are an awesome resource if you're feeling stuck. There's even a forum called "The Adoption Society," where people put unused characters, plot twists, and settings up for "adoption" to be used in other works. I'm "Lizanator" if you want to add me as a writing buddy!

2. Pinterest!
It might sound a little weird, and there's definitely a possibility of distraction. But I've used Pinterest as a place to gather images, articles, websites, inspiration, motivating quotes, and other resources. I've also got a bunch of "plot generators" and writing prompts, if you want to write but aren't sure what to write about. You can check out my "Writing Things Down" board here.

3. TickTockTimer
You can also just use the timer on your phone...any ole timer works. I use this for two things: timing breaks and doing "word sprints." If I'm having trouble writing, I'll sometimes give myself 10 minutes to write, and 10 minutes of a break, and it keeps me productive. A "word sprint" is the practice of pounding out a bunch of words in a set amount of time. Say, 500 words in 20 minutes! Sometimes NaNo writers will challenge each other to these, and it's a fun way to meet goals.

BUT WAIT!!! IT'S ONLY OCTOBER! IT'S AGAINST THE RULES TO START WRITING UNTIL NOVEMBER! WHY ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW?! 

Because NaNoWriMo is easier for a lot of folks if you have a little bit of an outline. Or an idea. Or a half-coherent sheet of hastily scribbled notes. It's not NECESSARY. But if you want to participate, and you also want to plan, I thought I'd share this stuff NOW. You've got 13 days to come up with ideas. I spent yesterday afternoon mapping out the basic plot of my futuristic dystopian YA novel, and tonight I'll spend some time ironing out the kinks in the world I'm creating.

So, happy writing, my friends!

photo via

Whomp whomp...

Soooo, remember how I recently made this big, scary decision to pursue acting full-time? Almost immediately after announcing that decision, I was not cast in "A Christmas Carol." And that was...difficult.

Of course, rejection is always difficult. You kind of have to get used to it...it's an inevitable part of the business. But it's always a little harder with theatre rejection for me. With television or film or commercials, there's no cast list posted. There's no definitive "NO YOU DIDN'T GET THE PART"...you just don't get a phone call. And you're usually not Facebook friends with everyone else who auditioned, so you don't see them posting casting announcements and changing their cover photos to promo shots of the show you wanted to be in. And a television/film/commercial gig is something that lasts a few days. Theatre is a commitment of several months. And you usually only prepare for a day or two for a screen audition, since that's the amount of notice you get, as opposed to building your repertoire and meeting with an audition coach and rehearsing for a few weeks ahead of time. It's just a bigger investment to do theatre.

I also rely almost exclusively on theatre for my social life. I'm about 75% introvert, 25% extrovert, but my friendships are a very important part of my life, and I rely a lot on them to make me a better, more well-rounded person. I have no idea how to make friends outside of theatre, even though once I know people, I'm all right outside of theatre. But I also know that actors are generally busy people--most of us don't have time to "go to lunch" or something. So if I'm not in a show, I'm...watching Netflix. I could grow a pair* and just invite people to hang out, but I'm inherently sort of awkward at doing that. It's a lot to overcome that awkwardness to get to the actual bonding time. So not being cast in a show, for me, also comes with this added weight of not spending as much time with people I care about.

When it comes to "A Christmas Carol," there was also the added weight of finances. My budget right now will last me until the end of November, but if I had been cast in "A Christmas Carol," I would have made it until the end of January, for SURE. Without absolutely needing any film/television/commercial/background gigs, and without needing another job. It would have essentially bought me two more months to pursue this pipe dream of acting full-time. I still might get enough film/television/commercial/background work to keep me going for a few more months, but I don't have the guarantee I would have with getting cast in "Christmas Carol." And I sort of missed auditions for a lot of other things, because of conflicts with "Oklahoma"--I'll have to wait a little while for the next round of auditions to come around.

("But Liz, you have a husband who works! Isn't he the breadwinner? Can't he support you both while you pursue this dream?" Yes, I do have a husband who works, and technically, he could support us both, but I can't bring myself to let him do that. He's working a great job right now, but it's not something he is passionate about, and he took it because the EXTRA income it generates allows him to pursue HIS dreams. I can't, in good conscience, ask him to give up his dreams for mine, which is what I would be doing if I made him pay all the bills while I auditioned for stuff.)

Anyway, if it's not obvious by now, I just had a lot of eggs in that "Christmas Carol" basket. And right after making this decision to throw myself into acting full-time, not getting cast felt like the universe shouting "NOPE! You can't do this! You can't fulfill this life-long dream of acting as a career!" When you're vaguely terrified (which I am about trying to act full-time), any rejection feels bigger. Like you got shut down the second you tried.

But, really, I know it will be okay. It always is. I'm still sort of in mourning, but I've had a lot of good reminders that I'll be taken care of. Loving words from a good husband. Moving and profound moments in "Oklahoma" that speak to my heart as much as to Aunt Eller's. Sincere hugs in parking lots and backstage hallways. Encouraging words from friends. Little revelations that keep me focused and keep me grounded.

So give me another day or two to mourn and recalibrate, and then it's "F*** you, Matt Damon"** and moving on. I'm glad I've got so many good people in my corner on this journey.


* of testicles OR ovaries; both are symbols of power and courage
** see linked blog entry if you don't get the reference

photo via

Things I Have Loved About My 20s

I made a decision as a teenager to just enjoy my age, no matter what it was. I never wanted to be someone who pretended she was younger or older than she was...who turned "39" at every birthday after 40. I want to just embrace whatever age I am.

And now I'm approaching 30. I've got roughly a week and a half left of being 29, and then it will be September 8th, and I'll be leaving my twenties behind forever. And I find I don't even really have to try to embrace my age. I really enjoyed my twenties. I think I'll enjoy my thirties, too.

Of course, there are things about my twenties that I think I'll miss. Everything was a lot more dramatic throughout my twenties, it seems. Every decision was life-altering! Every love was a great love! Every friendship was an eternal friendship! Life was a non-stop adventure! As a Latter-day Saint, my adventures were probably pretty "vanilla." But I still had some good times, some of which are probably somewhat universal. Things like:

Staying up all night talking to someone, sleeping for a few hours after the sun rises, and then going to work/class despite the fact that you're barely awake.

Making plans with friends to visit a natural hot springs and then ending up in a casino on an Indian Reservation, in your bathing suits, during a blizzard. (No? Just me? Oh...)

Streaking. Flashing. Skinny-dipping. Almost anything involving nudity. I feel like it becomes less acceptable as you get older. Maybe it becomes more fun, though. I'll keep you posted. (I am, after all, naked, but not stupid...)

Making out with someone and then thinking, "Wait. Maybe that was stupid." (And usually being right.)

Eating really poorly, and totally getting away with it. I'm now almost 15 pounds heavier than I was when Jacob and I got married. My 24-year-old metabolism was working a lot better than my current one is.

Making mixed CDs and listening to them while taking long walks alone at night. I did this ALL THE TIME when I was at BYU-Idaho. I miss it sometimes, but I don't live in as safe a neighborhood nowadays. And I don't have quite the same need to go on those long walks now...I have less I need to figure out and ruminate on.

Having roommates. Sharing the bathroom, berating each other for not doing the dishes, making blanket forts, watching movies. And sharing clothes! Man, I miss having like 3 additional closets worth of clothes to choose from.

Not behaving like a responsible adult in stores--toy stores, grocery stores. This could mean both running around and being loud and obnoxious in general...it could also mean spending $40 on Nerf gun supplies. 

Being able to go out dancing, and having much more stamina than you will have later in life. 

Accepting bizarre circumstances without really questioning them. In my twenties, I made friends by wandering into their apartments at some point in the evening. I made friends by smearing chocolate on someone's face during a party.  

I feel like ages 20 - 29 is characterized by the thought, "Wait. How did I get here?" (Both literally and metaphorically.) I remember thinking that thought every now and then during college. It was rarely anything extraordinary, but it was sometimes odd enough that I'd think, "Wait. How did I end up at a grocery store at 11:57 at night with the saxophonist of this jazz combo, with a package of toilet paper and a bottle of sparkling cider in my arms?" Or, "Wait. How did I end up at a bonfire in the sand dunes with no shoes, along with this female drummer and some guy from Brazil named Luis?" Or, "Wait. How did I end up wandering through a graveyard after riding her on the back of this guy's motorcycle?" (All true stories, by the way.)

And there were also times when the question "How did I get here?" went a little deeper. Times when I thought, "How did I end up being kicked out of student housing and on academic probation?" Or "How did I get to be alone like this?" But they weren't all negative. There were times after Our Town rehearsals my freshman year, when I would sneak back into the theatre and stand on the empty stage, looking out at all the seats and thinking, "How did I get here? What wonderful thing could I have possibly done to be this lucky? That I get to do this?" Or when I would sit among laughing friends at the Dairy Queen after a Comic Frenzy show and think, "How did I get so many amazing people to be in my life? How could one person be so blessed, to be surrounded by such wonderful friends?"

And I still think those things now and then. As I move out of my twenties and into my thirties, I know there's still a lot of adventure, and a lot of good times, and a lot of bad times, and a lot of strange times ahead. But I feel like I've slowly been moving from turmoil to contentment.

So here's to my fourth decade on earth. I think it will be a good one.