I spent most of the morning and afternoon rehearsing my speech, listening to how it sounds, and making sure it times out right. The old improviser in me even played New Choice a few times with some ad-libs that amused me so much, I ended up writing them into the text.
Writing this speech and preparing it have been the singular focus of my life for so long now (in linear time, it's only been 6 or 8 weeks, but in hyperfocused mental writing time it's been much, much longer than that) that I feel sort of adrift, now that it's finished, like I don't know what to do with myself.
This reminds me of something an acting teacher once told us near the end of a 10-week acting class.
He stood on the small stage where we did our scenes and leaned against a tall chair. "You guys are all here because you love performing," he said, "and you hope to beat the odds and make a living as actors."
He absently scratched at his beard. "If anyone told you that this would be easy, they lied to you. It isn't."
I knew this, because I took this class in my early twenties, when I felt like I was never going to be a successful actor (or anything) again.
He continued, "This class is almost over, and whether you choose to come back here and do more workshops or not, you should keep performing, whether it's in a 99-seat theater, or in a scene study workshop that meets once a week." He leaned forward, folded his arms across his chest, and lifted up one hand, extending his index finger. Over the course of the class I'd come to think of it as his I'm about to tell you something very important pose.
"Some of you will be lucky enough to have several auditions a week, and when you do, you'll start to feel overwhelmed by the preparation … if you're doing it right, you should feel overwhelmed, because if you don't, you're not working hard enough. But sooner or later, you're going to consider dropping out of plays or stopping your workshops, and just focusing on the auditions. That makes sense, because you're getting to perform at auditions all the time, and we all know that nobody really goes to see live theater in Los Angles, right?" He pointed around the room as he said this, and let his palm fall open, like Hamlet contemplating Yorick, when he asked the question.
Some of the students murmured in agreement. Every last one of us would have been delighted to discover that we were so overwhelmed with auditionsNot enough time to perform because we're so overwhelmed with auditions?! This was a problem that all of us would have loved to have.
The instructor shook his head, and folded his arms back around himself. He took a few small but dramatic steps – this was an acting class, after all – and faced us again from the other side of the stage.
"That's the worst thing you can do."
We all waited for him to elaborate, and after a very long few seconds, he did. "When you're performing in a theater or doing workshops, you're working with other actors, and you're doing it because you love the performance. You love the character, you love the story … you love something about it enough to do the work for the sake of the work.
"When you're auditioning, though, you're not in a performance environment. You're never on a stage, and you're rarely in front of people who are fully engaged in what you're doing."
Many of the frustrating auditions I'd had around that time, where I felt like the people in the room were interested in everything but what I was doing, flashed though my mind.
"So if you make auditions the only place you get to perform, it will slowly but surely unravel you. Because you're not really performing, you're auditioning. Do you all follow me?"
All of us nodded in agreement. He spoke as deliberately as I'd ever heard him speak, punctuating almost each word by pointing his finger or waving his hand.
"You have to give yourself a place where you can perform for the sake of performing, and you have to go there every week. Think of athletes: they practice between games, and so should you."
He started to walk back to his desk at the foot of the stage, and then abruptly stopped. He whirled around and said, "You know you're actors because if you don't act, you feel like something is missing. Don't give an industry that doesn't care about that the same way you do control over when you do it."
It could easily have been a sales pitch to get us all back for more workshops, but it wasn't. It was a life pitch, from the same teacher who told us all that, if we hadn't already, we had to find something we loved, something that truly mattered to us, that wasn't acting. "You can't let acting consume your life," he said, "you can't let it be your life, because life experience is part of what makes great actors great. You have to live a full life, so you have something to bring to a character when you create it."
I don't know how many of you who read my blog are actors or creative types, but I hope you'll heed the advice that acting coach gave me, thirteen or so years ago, because I have, and it's made all the difference to me, both personally and professionately.
Oh, what a wonderful bit of advice.
I work full time at something else, but I’m also a writer for fun (and very rarely profit). This quote is marvelous for many reasons.
“You know you’re actors because if you don’t act, you feel like something is missing. Don’t give an industry that doesn’t care about that the same way you do control over when you do it.”
Thank you for sharing it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some writing to do.
Oh, and PS: If I’m ever so lucky as to publish a good number of my words all at once, I hope to do so using your model. As the man said, I don’t want to give control over the things I love most to someone who doesn’t care about them like I do. Thanks again for the advice and for the impetus to get excited and make things. Personally and professionately.
Powerful words.
You’ve painted a beautiful picture of one of those ‘moments’ when a teacher reaches out to a class and shares some hard earned wisdom.
So many people feel that they must define themselves by what they do for a living, so much so that all else about them is drowned out. It’s almost always the first question when meeting someone new after the ‘how are you”s, ‘what do you do?’
I’m not immune to this but I think it would be liberating to say, just once, ‘what do I do? Oh, I’m a gamer/blogger/amateur writer’
I don’t do such things in general, but someone once gave me a self-help tape, and I actually listened to part of it. I couldn’t tell you anything about it except that the male voice coming through my speakers hated the question “what do you do?” because he thought it oversimplified us humans too much. He suggested the answer of “I do lots of things.” I agree, and I’ve used it ever since. It’s fun to mess with people like that.
Oh, and recently I had a conversation about this with an online friend with whom I was having lunch. We were trying to remember what another online friend did. We had no clue. Why? Because it simply isn’t important to us. We know this person as a sci-fi fan, writer, etc. Her job? Beats me. Not important.
Thank you, Wil. I’ve heard similar advice over the years during various writers workshops but I needed to hear it again tonight. Thanks for the reminder!
I think in terms of keeping one’s artistic love alive and happy, “To play is the thing” might be a more accurate summation.
Ohhh. That's lovely, and yet another thing I wish I'd thought of.
Hey darlin. Your story’s got a stumble in paragraph 6.
I agree with the sentiment of the story, but I’m not finding the passion for writing I always thought I’d have. I rarely write for the joy of it these days. Am I doing something wrong? Should I find another dream? Nyargh.
I think this is true in many fields.
I write software. If I only write software then I will have nothing to write about.
I remember graduating from college feeling like I had this enormous tool-box (’tis what the maiden proclaimed), but nothing to build with it.
I also believe that to be really successful, you don’t do a thing because you want to do it. You do it because you have to do it. A successful actor doesn’t create the motivation to perform every week in whatever venue he can find. A successful actor does that because he has some internal need that will not be denied to perform in whatever venue he can find.
If you find yourself *wanting* to do something like act or write comics or make movies or write software or practice medicine or practice law, but you can’t seem to work up the initiative to get started, then maybe that field isn’t your calling. That is okay. It can still be an interest or a hobby, but I wouldn’t recommend making it your career. The idea of living a life forcing myself to do something every day that I wasn’t my first choice of activity sounds not a little bit like hell.
That teacher sounds like an awesome guy.
Did this (or at least the memory of this) influence your decision to make writing your main fucos?
There’s a similar technique for translators. After your frist draft, do something completely different for a few hours (or ideally, a day) and then come back to it. That way, you will spot errors a lot more easily. I guess the same applies to writing from scratch?
Thank you VERY much for posting this. While I don’t act, I make music ( http://last.fm/music/pojut ). I started doing this just so I could listen to the exact music that I wanted to hear, but I’ve recently started worrying quite a bit whether other people like it or not. Doing this has made it very difficult to make music that I want to hear, and I’ve found it impossible to finish a track in nearly two weeks.
While your post is mostly relevant to actors, it applies to me as well. I need to keep my focus on why I started doing this…otherwise, what’s the point? Thank you, good sir. You have no idea how much you have helped me.
http://www.livingwithanerd.com
This is a great post, very inspirational… and explains what I’ve been doing wrong. I have been auditioning for a spot on a local American Idol-esque televised show called Lucky Break here in Phoenix. I keep seeing it as an audition, not what it should be: my way to make people happy. I am going to take this advice to heart, definitely.
Ashes to ashes,
DJ Pheonyx
The Cape Radio
http://www.thecaperadio.com
These certainly are heartfelt and inspiring words to any actor, especially when delivered … by … *holds up hands* … what appears … *points finger* to be … William Shatner (happy birthday Kirk btw).
Your teacher did you a big favor. You did a wonderful job of articulating the scene in writing and I agree with what he so eloquently expressed.
I’m a salesman and have been all of my life. There’s an old maxim in our profession that says: ‘sales is acting for ugly people’. Many people that never find a love for what we do will ‘audition’ for a few weeks, i.e. organize their desk, program their phone, memorize brochures and then move along to some other job. Those of us that really love what we do require similar preparation but we only feel whole if we’re in front of a live person, fully engaged, practicing our craft.
I certainly don’t mean to demean the art of acting. Nonetheless, a good salesman must elicit the proper emotional response from his audience (at the appropriate time) to reach a mutually beneficial transaction.
Your teacher certainly sounds like most of the best sales trainers I’ve met.
Couldn’t help myself. Wrote a blog post about what your post brought up for me. Went free associative on your ass 🙂
Been having the hardest time coming up with stuff for the blog so when the inspiration strikes I have to go for it. Thanks Wil.
http://tinyurl.com/yfhmaus
Great post, Wil, and your teacher’s advice is so true. I was involved with high school, college, and community theatre in my younger days, and it was the one thing I was really passionate about. Now I’m almost 60 and wish I had stayed with it, because the passion of wanting to act is still there.
Nicely put and very true!
Michael – it’s not too late. If you still feel the power of theatre, if it calls to you, then embrace it!
I recently directed a production of LION IN WINTER for a local community theatre group. I hadn’t acted in a play in almost five years. I hadn’t directed a play in almost ten. (Raising my three little ones takes precedence!) And yet – when the time came to start the rehearsal process, all my powers of creation and collaboration were instantly available. And not just available, but enhanced in surprising ways by the *living* I had done. It was there, and it was better than ever before, and by all accounts we created an enjoyable show. My actors loved the process and our audiences loved the play. And I loved feeling that energy again. (And loved dealing with the challenges. Good thing I was at the Sunday matinee to keep turning on the lights that were blowing a circuit breaker. Ah, live theatre!)
The point is, it’s never too late. Examine your commitments, examine your passion, and see if you can’t let that little spark burn again. You might surprise yourself!
That was some awesome advice that your teacher had given you Wil. It reminds me of something that my high school english teach once told us ” You should do what love and love what you do, because if you do something that you don’t love eventually you’ll loose sight of who you really are.” Plus that advice goes along with the military, when a soldier ETS’s( just a term for someone leaves the military) from the branch of service they’re in after awhile they find themselves missing the way of life they lived for however many years they were in and some wind up going back to serve in the military because they loved what they did. I have two Non-Commisioned Officers in my unit that are both in their 50’s who got out and missed it so much they had to come back in. That just shows the power of things you love have over you as a person.
I was recently introduced to your blog and books. I rather enjoy your writing and it has strong resonances in so many ways. I was trained in theatrical design and appreciate this reminder. I burned out of theatre right out of grad school and went into the business side of the field. I am never so happy as when I engage issues with a team. The dynamic and transient collaborations were my very fondest part of production.
I often struggle for perspective and cast about for my next great passion but at the moment am content to grab what moments I can. It is too easy to lose sight of the balance of our passions and our balances, the mental outriggers that allow us to dive off a cliff into whatever teacup does it for us.
When I was senior in college I was utterly lost on a show and went to my advisor in the middle of a rehearsal for advice. He told me “Don’t go into theatre. It’s a crappy life.” and walked away. Fifteen minutes later he was behind me at the tech table helping me see the problem. That has always made me look at situations from the side. I loved theatre, but found the process was what I really liked. It was twenty years ago, but I still can smell the dust in the shop. Thank you, Wil, for this.
Thank you.
Tonight, probably more than any night in a long time, I needed to read this.
I’m a one of the creative types who reads your blog. For the last 30 years, I’ve acted, directed, produced, stage managed, etc, etc, etc anything I could get involved in for live theatre. I do it on an amateur basis, because I don’t have the willingness to give up the things I’d have to to do it professionally.
That being said, this past year, I started my own company – incorporated and everything. We’re doing Taming of the Shrew. I have a brilliant cast & crew. I’m directing this and I know it will rock.
Tonight I had one of the meetings you have to do periodically – this time mapping out where the “OMG!” costume changes were. There were bits that came out of that meeting (not so much the scene changes as resistance to doing things in a way to make my life easier) that made me question if this really was something I wanted to do.
The answer isn’t yes.
It isn’t because I want to.
It’s because I have to. I do theatre, even when it drives me crazy, because not doing it drives me crazier. Because pulling my hand out of it doesn’t stop my head from being in it. Because when I’m doing theatre, regardless of how utterly insane it must be to work 2 jobs to pay the bills then work even harder in the evenings & weekends to put on a show where I don’t get paid, it’s all I want to do. Because when the audience reacts – the laughter, the gasps, the deathly silence as they *get* what’s going on – that makes my soul sing.
Thank you for the reminder tonight. Doing it is a need. Loving it is why I need it. Only by doing it regularly do I feel as good as I can.
Thanks (and I’m sorry for the incoherence – it’s late).
Nita
I’ve been involved in theater and music off and on in some form for almost 20 years. This year, I pushed myself a little further and performed in a semi-professional group–The Pittsburgh Savoyards –performing Gilbert and Sullivan Operas, first Patience and now, with one weekend left, The Mikado. (Yes, I’m only part of the ensemble, but still, we have to have our own characters.) I’d like to add to this, that it’s important to try something outside of your comfort zone every once in a while. Believe me, the very first performance of Patience terrified me, but I cannot tell you the boost in confidence it’s given me. Yes, I do something else to pay the bills, but there is something that always pulls me back to theater performance, one way or another.
Excellent, timeless wisdom. I’m one of those creative types that woke up probably too late to make a living out of it, having developed professional skills that drove me away from writing and teaching (2 of the things I always do best).
Now, nearing 40 (I think we’re both the same age) I redirected my career to corporate training seminars. They allow me to reconnect with my true creative loves: writing (the course materials with jokes and fiendish role playing exercises)and public speaking (doing the actual teaching).
So your acting teacher got it spot on, so it for love. For writers: Blog, write, make long comments on facebooks! For teachers: teach friends, teach yourself…
Eventually you’ll get lucky and strike gold.
Thanks man. See you in Boston
This is such very awesome advice.
It works for writing, too. I feel like when I lose track of the writing I do for myself, for the joy of it–that’s when I lose track, also, of my edge as an artist.
Yes Yes! Absoloutely accurate, though there is the issue of “blocks” to contend with, but an absoloute commitment to creation produces some of the most amazing work
A soul without passion for what it does is nothing more than an automaton, that will grind it’s gears until it stalls as the gears grind to a halt. This is why settling on a job is a poor subsitute for settling on a career.
To any that may stumble on this, please listen to what he says – for it’s a deep truth about the human soul, that goes past just acting, the arts, or even simply jobs. It speaks to finding joy and satisfaction in life itself. Take the time to delight in one’s profession, to enjoy it, to remember Why it’s important to you.
Truth be told, Without enjoying one’s profession, or life.. well, that is a special kind of hell, that gnaws at a mortal soul, eating it away…
Is it sad that I didn’t notice the typo until I clicked the link [and I work in the writing center so that sort of thing is kind of my job]?
My portmanteau-loving brain just jumped straight to assuming you meant some crossover between “passionate” and “professional” 😀
Thanks! (Though I suddenly realize I should have said “…trying to remember what another online friend did for work” up there. Dang! I fell into the trap my own self!) *grin*
This is frickin’ awesome. I am actually just getting into theater/acting/film… I’ve spent much of my life in music and computers, and looked at the stage from afar. But now I’m taking a longtime dream into my own hands, and what you’re saying here echoes directly everything that’s becoming clear to me. I’m working on creating a weekly practice, always with the intention of stretching myself, continuing to learn and interacting with others in the same medium. Over time I think I will find myself feeling more and more at home here. Thanks for all your writing, Wil – it’s really inspiring. You continually remind me how important creativity is 8)
I hate writing something that’s going to sound like totally unsolicited advice to a professional in a field that I’m at best have an amateur dabbling in, but your description of repeatedly rehearsing your speech reminded me of a time doing theater club in college.
Once I saw a play I had previously been in. Hearing another person read words that I had been so intimate with gave me two startling realizations: the parts that the other guy was doing horribly *wrong* and the parts the other guy was doing horribly *right*.
This led me in the future to, upon gaining familiarity with a part, to give the script to someone unrelated to the project and hear them read it. A roommate, a significant other, a parent — someone who can just read it blindly while I could keep the character in mind instead of the words.
So, yeah, where I’m going with this is to suggest that now that you’re so fixated on the writing aspects, hand the notes to someone else so you can pay attention to the delivery.
Feel free to give me advice on running web servers if you want to retaliate.
I have to say I can really identify with feeling “sort of adrift”. I recently finished writing up my PhD and thought I would feel such a sense of freedom and release when I finally submitted it, but in the end I felt like something was missing… Although I was pleased all the late night grafting was done, I also felt sort of adrift, like the focus of my life was suddenly missing! Having classes to teach and Master’s students to supervise quickly filled the gap though 😉 And I guess I’ll be working on revisions as soon as my committee gives me their comments…
In the meantime I will continue to read your most entertaining and often inspiring blog…
Sound advice. I’m going to forward this to my friend, who’s an acting student.
Also, for some reason when I was reading this I imagined Terence Stamp as the coach.
Since you mention improv and New Choice, let me direct you to some footage of Jeff Lewis from The Guild playing that very game (though they call it “shoulda said”) at an improv theater in Seattle that he, Sandeep Parikh and Robin Thorsen spent a night at during Emerald City Comic Con.
Your teacher’s advice can be applied to almost anything. I love the line, “You know you’re actors because if you don’t act, you feel like something is missing.” I’m defined by a lot of things. I’m an engineer, mother, wife, and runner. I can replace any of those roles in that sentence and know that without that aspect of my life I’m missing something.
Now I just need to figure out what the thing is that I’m missing. 🙂 I wish I had more teachers like that in my life. Thanks for the focusing pep-talk Wil!
Excellent life advice indeed, and not just for creative types. As a fully fledged science nerd, I can assure you that the same principle applies: one must find other things to be passionate about than just the science. Nobody gets rich doing basic research, so we’re in that same camp of “we do it because we love it.” But we must have other passions for the sake of our mental health.
For me, it’s playing guitar, brewing beer, baseball, great RPGs, film, books… no wonder I have almost no free time!!
This is wonderful advice.
I have a full-time job, and what feels like a full-time RPG hobby, but I keep finding myself signing up to do amateur stage stuff, particularly musicals.
For me, this advice also ties in nicely to GET EXCITED AND MAKE THINGS.
Great words Wil. This is amazing advice.
I’m not an actor, and my creativity only extends to building Lego with my boys.
However I think this is great advice and easily can be applied to other fields. I’m a Sign Language Interpreter and this easily translates into my profession.
Thank you so much for this post today! Of all days….I am revving up for audition season here in the wiles of Buffalo, NY and I am dreading it. Audition, after audition, after bloody audition. But now I know why I dread it so much. I tried so hard to see it as a chance to perform and do what I want to do. But its not really that is it? There isn’t the same give and take as there is between an actor and audience. That’s the reward of getting through auditions though isn’t it?
Thanks for sharing the advice. It was very much needed.
Hey Wil, unless there’s something screwy going on with *my* interwebz, it seems there’s a glitch in paragraph 9; on my server, it reads like this:
“would have been delighted to discover that we were so overwhelmed with auditionsNot enough time to perform because we’re so overwhelmed with auditions?!”
Your prose is usually so fluid that this really jumped out at me; just thought I’d mention it. Great post. 🙂
Totally unrelated to the post Wil, but I received an email today that the special edition of The Happiest Days of our Lives has finally shipped. Soon to be in our hot little hands ….I’m excited….
As a (non-acting) member of a small LA theatre company, I’m glad to hear there are (or were) instructors giving this advice to actors. I have seen so many actors improve their work and lives overall by being involved with the right kind of theatre company.
Thanks for sharing!
It’s all yours should you want it. Delete this post and silence a few thousand readers and no one will ever know you DIDN’T come up with it!
Wow…..I have a feeling I’ll refer to this post again.
It’s so true that most auditions are empty yet the act of real performance art is anything but. It reminds me to get my butt in gear and take more classes/workshops!
Good post per the norm.
B
Hi Wil,
I saw a cross-stitched project that made me think of you today.
http://community.livejournal.com/sf_domestics/53445.html?style=mine
(Also, crap, I just realized they locked the post. I have asked them to unlock it so you can see it in all its glory)
Thanks for sharing this, Wil.
Years and years ago, when I was at university, I saw the pilot episode of Babylon 5, and realised that people were being paid to use their Amigas to build spaceships, and make them fight.
I quit my degree, spent my student loan on an A4000 and struck to teaching myself how to do that. There weren’t any professional qualifications at the time, or anything.
Over the years, my passion became my career and my business, and all the tawdry distractions of business and such did their thing, but I always kept at the bit where I would build spaceships, and make them fight – not to keep in practise with the latest tools (though it helped) and not just to buff my animation abilities (though that helped, too), but because I love making spaceships fight.
A month ago, I started working as a senior VFX artist for the guy who did the VFX for Babylon 5 (and Roughnecks, some of Voyager, et cetera).
Dreams. They bloody rock, when you work at them.
Actually, the worst thing you can do, is to go with a boy. Or two.
I never fancied myself as an actress, but did have a love for theater throughout my childhood and teenage years, and still do to a certain extent. I’m more into musicals and show tunes than anything else, so I’m not a complete theater geek. I joined Stage Crew during my freshman year of HS just so I could participate in some way, because I was much too shy to actually audition for a role or join the chorus at that point. Sophomore year, I got a little more ballsier, and tried out for chorus and wound up being a townsperson in the play we were doing that year.
Then came junior year, and we were doing a production of “The Music Man,” which had been one of my absolute favorite plays growing up. I don’t know what got into me, but I threw all caution to the wind and I went for it. I tried out for the part of Marian and sang “Til There Was You” with such conviction that our school’s drama director was practically flabbergasted that he hadn’t realized just how powerful my singing voice was because when I tried out for chorus the year before, I didn’t really give him an enthusiastic performance. I remember him saying something along the lines of “Why didn’t I know that you were able to sing like that, that your vocal range is so powerful? Because if I had known that, you definitely would have gotten an actual part in last year’s production instead of just a townsperson in the chorus!” and then proceeded to tell me that since I had waited that long to give him such a great audition, he couldn’t just cast me in the lead role because there were other juniors and seniors that were far more experienced than I was and he would most likely have to give the part of Marian to one of them. I was bummed, but understood what he meant. He also said something about maybe with a lot of coaching that it was a possibility that I could be in a lead part in my senior year, which never happened, and that was fine by me. But just the fact that I had the guts to go up on that stage and sing that song that I had been singing along to the soundtrack with for years before that audition and completely blowing everyone away was a feeling that I’ll never forget.
I never did catch the “acting bug” but the fact that I was gutsy enough to try out for the lead role and give it my all during that audition is something that I will always be able to look back on and say that I’m absolutely proud of myself for just going for it the way that I did. I honestly don’t know how all of the real actors amongst us deal with the “Oh shit, I think I’m going to puke!” feeling every time you try out for a role, but I definitely have a lot of respect for what you do. I can only imagine what it’s like to try out for a television or film role, so my hat’s off to all of you.
I don’t know how I missed this post the other day, but I’m so glad that I randomly checked the blog this morning. That may as well have been written just for me, as much as it speaks to me. I love this : “Don’t give an industry that doesn’t care about that the same way you do control over when you do it.” I love the idea of taking charge of your life as an actor, despite what the industry tells you you are.
Thank you so much, Wil. I don’t think you realize how much you give all of us that read your blog and listen to your shows. I’m grateful for every bit of it, and you inspire me tremendously.
Now I need a Kleenex.
Wil, just read the following on popbitch and thought of you:
Vin Diesel is such a Dungeons and Dragons obsessive that he’s written the foreword to the 30th anniversary commemorative book. And while filming xXx he had a fake tattoo of his D&D character’s name, Melkor, on his stomach. He even took to introducing his castmates to the game. He would play with Dame Judi Dench after night shoots on the Chronicles Of Riddick and went as far as to show her his Dungeons and Dragons books and explain to her the different properties of Elementals.