Confessions of a former Rejection Queen (I Want the Job)

Last night it was pouring down rain in North London: sheets, buckets, deluge. I was surprised to wake up to blue sky, feeling ok, considering my crocodile tears from the night before.

I used to call myself "The Rejection Queen". I have auditioned hundreds, if not nearly thousands of times so far in my 11 year career, and a safe guess would be I've booked about 2% of those. Not bad actually, all things considered.

I would say most of the time, I can dust off pretty quick from not booking a job, it is after all, the most likely outcome. But yesterday, after my second pantomime callback, positive vibes in the room, making people laugh, hitting the beats in my song I wanted to hit... you know, feeling good about what I brought to the room... I didn't get the part.

I usually don't let myself hope too much. I try, through Herculean mental energy, to distance myself from the job and treat the audition AS the job. Which, in reality, it is. Actors are professional auditioners: those sides (audition scripts) are your two minute show. Talents like Michael Cranston and the late Philip Seymour Hoffman have been quoted as such: it's a chance to be in someone else's space to present your work and THAT, so we're told, is the upside. That's your moment to do what you love and share your work.

I believe it. I do. I really believe it. It's just that my lovely, sensitive heart doesn't know any better than to hope and imagine the part coming my way. And every once in awhile, it stings a bit stronger, I hoped this time a bit too much and when it doesn't fall my way, I need to let it all out.

So yesterday I hd a big cry. A BIG, GROSS, gnarly, makeup-running-down-my-face cry. I messaged a friend about the feelings. I drank three glasses of red wine and I watched The Witches (what a weird choice) and as the rain poured outside, I let my poetic artist heart feel grief, and just, be a bit shit for awhile.

I know actors feel this often. More often than we admit. Instagram is the worst for this... when was the last time you saw someone post about not getting a part? Fucking never. And yet, that's 98% of our lives. If you have a booking rate above 5%, I think you're killing it.

So. I'm exhausted. I'm exhausted pretending I don't care about the job. I want every gig I go out for. I do! And I don't think I can twist my perception so much to convince myself otherwise. I don't think those mind-tricks work anymore. I want to work. Badly. Constantly. All the fucking time I want to be acting. And I think it's better to admit that. I'm an actor. I act.

The idea I've had this morning, after a solid journal session and plotting some ideas for creative projects that depend on no one's validation but my own, is to lean EVEN further into the audition being the performance. Not denying the wanting the job (DID I MENTION I WANT THE JOB) but that maybe you already get a little piece OF the job, if you audition and give your 2, 4 or 6 minute version all you have to give.

Maybe if I audition for Beatrice with enough chutzpah, I have already, in a way, given my opening night. Maybe if I've already dived so far into the character, given her backstory, depth, nuance, research... everything I would do if I booked the role, that in a weird way... I've already played it. I've already been Beatrice. Even if it's one scene and a monologue in my living room.

So. I'm done tricking myself (I WANT THE JOB). I want the fucking job. Always. And I think this one might haunt me for a little while longer, I'm at peace with being sad for a bit, if that makes any sense.

But maybe, all that's missing is realizing I can already have it. A badass, mini version that lets me live for a minute in my work. Doing the thing. Acting. Being an actor who acts. Even if it is just me in my living room absolutely nailing those gags for a very appreciative teddy bear audience and a patient agent who watches it all.

Me being a cute little sad-sad.

P.S. Please don't be like me and pretend to be strong all the time. Please cry when its shit. Think marathon with tears over sprint with fake smiles. You're an artist. You feel deeply. So please, FEEL DEEPLY.