It was Friday afternoon. My manager called me and said he was sending me audition sides for a meeting that would happen Monday or Tuesday. He told me about the show and the role, and in spite of everything I have learned in 37 years as an actor, I got excited because it was really fantastic stuff.
I read the sides, and extracted as much as I could about the character from them. See, there’s a preparation thing that I have to do whenever I’m going to perform a role, whether it’s for a job I’ve booked, an audition, something on-camera or a voice job: I read the scene (or the whole script) and I ask a series of questions based on what it tells me. What does this person want? What’s in his way? How does he feel about that? What does he do about how he feels?
Sometimes, a scene makes the answers to those questions really easy to find. It’s there in the dialog, and in the prose that the writer uses to describe the scene. Sometimes, the characters are drawn so clearly, finding those answers is as easy as reading the words on the page. But most of the time, I have to do some work to find the writer’s intention, so that I can take words on a page and turn them into a character that makes the audience feel something. For this particular audition, the character was fairly clear, and though I didn’t get to read the entire script, the audition sides were an interesting scene that told me a lot about who he was, and why he was interacting with the other character in the scene.
I broke the scene into some broad strokes, so that I knew what he wanted. Then I broke down the lines into specific actions that let him deal with what was in his way, and how he felt about those things. To be completely honest, this is my very favorite part of being an actor. I love breaking down a script and then breaking down its scenes and then breaking down those scenes into even more specific actions, so that every single thing I do, every choice I make, is logical and real and grounded in the reality of the character and the world he lives in.
So Friday evening came around, and I hadn’t heard from casting, so I knew I wasn’t going to be called in on Monday. Monday arrived, and as the day went on, I heard nothing, and I began to wonder if the producers had offered the job to someone else over the weekend. My manager called me as I was writing an email to him, and he told me I had an appointment the following morning. It was a period piece, and I happened to own some clothing that is appropriate (and would hide my tattoos), so I asked if it would be weird to wear it.
“Casting actually asked if you could please dress as much in the period as possible,” he told me. So that was pretty awesome.
I went to work on the scene. I developed my understanding of the character, including what was at stake for him, why he was there, and what he wanted. Then I realized that there was a power dynamic in play, and that thought he was giving the appearance of being there to do something for the other character, what he actually wanted to do was set her up, so he could use her to get the thing he really wanted. I have to say that I was particularly proud of myself for uncovering that, because it wasn’t super clear in the text. It was there as one possible interpretation, and I decided to make that my interpretation. If I was wrong, I’d find out in about 15 hours.
Preparing this audition was fun, mostly because all the writing I’ve been doing lately has put me into an artistic frame of mind that made it easy to see what the writer intended. Preparing this audition wasn’t intimidating, because I’ve been doing so much voice acting, I have a confidence and security in my ability to perform that I wouldn’t have, otherwise.
So I went into the meeting on Tuesday morning feeling really solid and confident and comfortable.
And I did a great job. I only read the scene once, and the casting director told me that she didn’t need me to do it again.
And I knew that I wasn’t going to get the job, because I never get the job.
But I still had fun, and I still enjoyed it, and I’m still proud of the work that I did, because when the casting director described the character’s motivation to me, she told me to do exactly what I had already prepared. Something like that does a lot for an actor’s confidence, you know?
So I nailed it. And I let myself believe, for a very brief moment, that maybe I had a chance to play this character, who will be on this show for seven of ten episodes. Maybe this will be the time that I got lucky and all those things I can’t control, all those things that are not my performance, would line up in my favor. Maybe I’d get to do some work that would be rewarding and challenging and memorable and important.
But I didn’t get the job. They loved me, but went with someone else. I don’t know why, just that they did. They always do.
And even though I know, intellectually, that there’s nothing wrong with me, that I didn’t go in there and stink it up, that there are countless factors out of my control that have nothing to do with the one thing I could control and all it takes is one of those things to not go my way …. But I still feel, emotionally and irrationally, like there is something wrong with me, because I never book the job. I feel like I got my one swing of the bat for the season, put the ball in play like I was supposed to, and still didn’t get on base.
And now I have to find and focus on the good things in this experience, like how much fun it was to prepare it, how I did a good job for a casting director who will hopefully bring me back for other roles on other shows, or maybe another role on this show. I have to remember that feeling proud of myself, feeling creatively satisfied, feeling like I did a good enough job to earn the role even if I didn’t get cast, I have to remember that all of those things are real, and valid, and it’s okay to have felt good when they happened.
Even though I know all of those things, all I feel right now is disappointment. Even though I knew it was coming, even though I knew I wouldn’t get the part, because I never get the part, I am still really sad that I didn’t get the part.
Sorry to hear that, Wil. It’s hard when we put our hopes on something and it falls through. I’ve been having to shore up massive resilience for the past three years. But for every no, I’m closer to a yes and finding where I’m supposed to be.
Maybe better things are in store for you. I certainly wish that. You’re a really enjoyable creative that I’m thankful to glimpse.
So sorry you weren’t chosen. They’re loss Wil.
I’ve been trying to teach my kids what you embody here: the attitude of looking at the good instead of just the bad. But that said, the bad still sucks. I’m sorry. I wish the reality of Hollywood was different because I want people like you on my various screens.
Aw, man. That sucks. Because you did the work, you love the work and you wanted it. You let this one in. I’m sorry that it keeps happening but I hope you keep trying. I want something to stick for you.
Sorry about the part. Like so many other people, I’ve worked on sets in the past. The image in your post caused a bright, clear bell the ring in the back of my brain. Google “death of a salesman sets” and look at the first few dozen images. Is there anything else in American theater that is so iconic? I am sorry about the part.
I’m so sorry you did not get the part. I wish you had because the way described just the audition makes me want to see you do it for all seven episodes.
Sorry to hear that, I would have loved to see you in a period piece! What period was it, if I may ask?
I don’t know if you listen to Maron or not, but he let his SNL rejection eat away at him for 20 years, and when he finally got resolution, it really was as simple as someone making a business decision, and not a personal slight. Don’t let this do that to you…how you feel about the effort you put in is all that matters!
Maron is a good comparison.
He floated around for decades on the periphery being “the comic’s comic,” but not collecting the cash and general fame. Making a living, I suppose, but watching his peers — his inferior peers, in most cases — achieve success (or at least success as defined by mainstream criteria).
He’s found his sweet spot, but you could even argue that his recent TV series, while a critical success is a mainstream failure, depending on which metrics you apply. But that’s another issue worth mentioning… when a person “makes it,” they never really make it. There’s always a valley after every mountain top. And multiple mountain tops in one’s creative range.
I also think of Jon Stewart. He was always kind of around in junky, little comedies, doing pseudo-VJ gigs on MTV, and then just floating here and there and you’d see him and go: “Oh, that guy. He’s amusing, I guess.” But then the Daily Show, and in a way, he had to create his own niche. And now he’s an icon.
Dan Harmon created Channel 101, which most are only vaguely aware of. But after failing to catch hold in the mainstream entertainment industry, he built his own goddamn mini-network/festival and made him and his closest friends and collaborators the featured players. That’s where Ridley and Roiland (Rick and Morty fame) came from.
There are so many other examples, of “stars” who wax and wane. Whether you “make it” again or not, Wil, you know you have many more of those disappointing almosts in your future. That never goes away. In fact, you’ve already “made it” many times. You just gotta keep plugging. You will undoubtedly succeed and fail over and over again until you end up taking that big dirt nap. It’s our lot. We’re all treading the same path.
One thing I think is a really important lesson to impart to all people, especially at the youngest age, is how to deal with failure. Many people do a thing once, see that they suck, and quit. Humans need to fail, and fail, and fail, and fail, and fail. Kids should be taught at the youngest age to fail. They should be taught that not only is it “okay,” it’s absolutely freaking necessary. It’s not about “dusting yourself off, picking yourself up” or other bromides. It’s about simple process. About logistics. The engineering mindset or that of a mathematician or scientist in this case is the ideal. Errata and unexpected outcomes direct the process, not end it.
Seek failure. Like a drug. Be ballsy.
As always, it is Rammstein in moments like these who guide us back to rationality, but Rammstein doesn’t have any readily apparent songs which address this, so we’ll drop back to option number two: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang…
(Yes, it’s true. My entire existence is guided by the wisdom of Rammstein, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, ODB, the back of cereal boxes, and/or Rasheed Wallace).
Yeah, boys!
My comment got moderated.
Like a boss.
Auditions are practice, man.
My ECA (Earned Comment Average) is on the rise.
Feeling good about that.
Wil, you’re remarkable, brilliant and have a loving-kind soul that surrounds your precious heart.
I have a song for you and hope it you find that it wasn’t you, but they who are left standing in the rain, and much sadder, without you.
I knew a guy once, all his life he wanted to be a pilot and (back in the day) couldn’t get a job as a pilot (too many pilots, not enough jobs) so he bought a small plane and started his own airline by flying cargo around the country cuz he wanted to be a pilot that much and refused to settle for anything else. I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes you gotta make a thing and you gotta be the one to MAKE the thing you star in, so you can enjoy the thing you love the most and there’s nobody else there telling you ‘sorry no, you didn’t get the job’ because YOU made the job for you.
Exactly! I’ve been wishing Wil would do a web series or something.
I understand your frustration and from someone who also suffers from depression I will tell you to keep positive. I know it is hard. I know the voices that can now creep in telling you it was your fault. Don’t listen to the stupid voices!! You are in an almost impossibly tough field to get work in. You need do your best and move on. At some point the next job will come around. Do your best and it will be there soon enough.
Maybe it’s like knowing there’s only a few legos in the floor, (I have kids) but you are guaranteed to step on the sharpest one at the end of a fun day. For a while all you can think about is how sharp that freakin’ lego is, (and the inevitability of stepping on it) even though the rest of the legos are built into something awesome and you had a great time building it all.
Hope that’s not too lame… it’s just a picture I couldn’t get rid of.
It seems like being a creative human being makes you more vulnerable to negative and positive at the same time– like shielding gets dropped when you set things out where other people can judge them. The negative tends to feels worse, somehow, even when there’s lots of positive.
I’m sorry you didn’t get the part, but I’m glad you enjoyed building that character. I hope it leads to more cool stuff in the future.
I would have loved to see you in the part. Sorry you didn’t get it.
It is just this random aspect of the creative world that kept me out of it when I was at a crossroads about ten years ago. I love storytelling and books and film and computer graphics. I wanted so badly to take that chance that maybe I could succeed. But I tend to take failure hard and didn’t know if I could handle the kinds of situations you are describing.
I really admire that you are able to enjoy the process and the preparation…enjoy creating the character completely in your mind…so that you present a real, whole person when you audition. You win whether you get the part or not. And you keep on trying.
Thanks for sharing this with us. I’m here cheering for you for every audition!
I am an artist and the feeling is much the same when you are writing a grant. It’s a lot like auditioning. Lots of up front work planning, researching, dreaming and putting together a proposal that you know is going to be awesome. And then knowing that it’s totally up to the review panel and knowing that only 1 person is going to get that funding and the chances are good it won’t be me. Knowing that doesn’t make it less sad and disappointing at all. I totally agree and get what you are feeling. For me, sometimes all that planning and thinking and dreaming about that awesome project can also fire up a whole bunch of other ideas. I try to remember that creative work feeds more creative work and practice of any part of my art form is never wasted.
I’m sorry you didn’t get the part. As another depressive here, it is okay to be sad and disappointed. You’ve got support, both internally and out here among us, that I know will have you waking up in the morning ready to be vulnerable and amazing and creative as ever, having weathered the storm. <3 Hang in there!
I’m bummed that you didn’t get the part, you’d be more than awesome in a historical piece. And I wish that life was more fair, if it was, you’d have a part in in the next season of Stranger Things. (Is a show about the eighties a period piece?)
As Cervantes said, “The road is always better than the inn.”
Sending positive vibes out into the universe for you.
It’s a brave thing to chase what you love as you do. Thank you for your candid and honest outlook on things, here on your blog. I appreciate reading your perspective on so many topics. The world is better for it.
Good luck to you!
You work in a psychologically brutal industry. Now of course, the guy who picks rock has it a LOT worse. It bothers you to complain because you know that relatively speaking, you have it easy. But dude. Not getting the job sucks. Pretending to be “OK” with not getting the work would be disingenuous. Soldier on oh captain my captain.
By the way, I had Dark Matter on in the shop last night. Sometimes when I work late, I keep something on. It makes me feel like I’m not some weird guy working in a shop at 2am… lol. which I totally am, but… “meh” I love my work. Prepping for late summer shows I’m basically working on a vampire schedule.
Anyway – Dark matter was great. I hated you… which is to say… “Great Job!” Dr. Rook is a creepy dude. Brilliant, nice, probably a wonderful conversationalist, but would totally harvest your kidneys and leave you in a bathtub if it was necessary for his work 😉
Dude, I can relate to that little voice that keeps saying, I never get the part. But don’t believe it because that’s not really true. Sometimes you get the part, sometimes you don’t. Maybe this was not the right role for you and a better one is coming that you would have had to pass up if you got this one. Maybe they will decide that the person they chose isn’t nearly as good a fit as you and call you back. Maybe a million different things. The truth is you are worthy and capable of anything. Sometimes you do get the part.
The best part is that you took us back in time with you ❤
I don’t want to minimize your disappointment because it’s real. It sucks to be just right and still not get it. ‘Never’, however, is an ‘all or nothing’ word. You have gotten lots of great parts. Make a list of them and talk about your favorites. It’s true that you work hard and audition hard and often don’t get the part even when you nail it, but ‘often don’t’ is not the same as ‘never’. There are more awesome parts in your future.
[And I love that comment above that said you could make your own stuff and play your own parts. True!]
Wil, I totally feel for you. I’ve been job-hunting since last September. I’m still unemployed. I get interviews. I do my research but they go with someone else. And it sucks balls. At this point I can’t even really get excited because so much is on the line. I can’t afford my rent so I need to move.
Rejection sucks. The whole bloody thing sucks. Hopefully there’s a day where you get the part and I get the job.
For the little it’s worth you’re an amazing person who has done a butt-load of good.
I love how you approach going to auditions, and that you write about it. Stuff I never knew anything about, gives acting so many more dimensions that I didn’t know about. Sorry that you didn’t get the job.
I’m really sorry you didn’t get the part. I know there’s always these million things that casting directors are thinking about when you go audition, and you only have control over one of them, but I’m still sad. I’ve never seen you in a part that I didn’t love what you brought to the character. I’ve acted before, because I thought it would be fun (and it was, when I got the parts) but I realized quickly that I didn’t love it enough to deal with what seemed like constant rejection. It’s obvious you love acting in the way you describe how you breakdown a characters motivations and thought processes. Your description of your process shows how involved you are in your craft, how much you love it. I hope you keep trying, keep auditioning. And don’t let the muggles get you down Wil. I’ll be patiently (mostly) waiting for your next role as I always am. Keep the faith my friend, and when in doubt, emergency Seamus and Marlowe.
The 114 acting credits on your IMDb show that sometimes you DO book the role. Every time you booked a role, several other actors didn’t and felt the same disappointment that you do now. It all comes full circle. It also helps to reframe your mindset. If the role is meant to be yours, no one else can take it from you. If the role isn’t meant to be yours, then nothing you do will make it yours. There is no rejection in that. If it’s yours, then it will be. Just as it has been in the past. 🙂
Sorry to hear about not getting the job, but once again your talent as a writer made your retelling of the story really engaging and interesting to read. Can’t wait to see the next thing you have to share with us! Don’t give up on being creative, you have a LOT to share with the world even if it’s not always in front of the camera.
It’s ok to be sad.
I’m glad you’re able to remember the good things about the experience, but still, it’s ok to be sad.
All. Always. Should have. Must. These are self defeating words and are not true.
So many bonuses to share. I am in awe of musicians and actors. Fleeting greatness repeated over and over. Sweet sadness that it ends.
Well done, Will. And note that people remember, so one thing leads to another. 🙂
How many actors typically audition for a part like this? If the casting director loved you, perhaps you were on the short list containing dozens of people. At the very least, now you’re on the casting director’s radar, right?
Hi Wil,
Appreciating your 37 years of experience, I hope that you will accept some advice concerning job hunting in the creative arts. Although I am not an actor (I am a software developer). I, like you, have had an extremely low hit rate when it comes to securing new employment within my field. Although I am better than most at what I do, I found myself being passed over again and again in job interviews and dismissed in lieu of apparently less qualified candidates. It took me a long time to realize the merits of the old adage “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know”. I believe this wisdom is especially applicable in the “anals” of west coast video productions. Therefore, no matter how hard you prepare, to what degree you “nail it”, and how much you want the role, it is unlikely you will get it based on your talent alone. It is very likely that the person who got the job over you, had some form of “nod”, or tacit show of support, however slight, from someone involved with the financing of the production, if not one of the producers themselves. So how can this understanding be applied to our approach to new employment? Although it is not easy to ingratiate ourselves to others (being as talented as we are ;), it is advisable to base our search for employment on the premise that we will need a “hidden hand” of support to secure the arrangement. I like to make a list of all of the people that I have made money with, and for, in the past, and see if there is any current enterprise they are connected with that I might be of service to. To next secure their expressed support and/or referral as a means of getting the audition or interview, and then, performing the trial to the best of my ability and without telegraphing this unspoken support to the evaluators during the audition. Approach it from the side of a relationship with the producers (or producer’s friends) instead of trying to muscle out success using your sheer talent alone. It is a difficult reality to accept, but it is reality. I hope this helps you in the future. Please excuse me if I have overstated my opinion in this post.
Yours truly,
Bradd Belasco
You also made this generous and thoughtful blog post out of the experience, Wil. Lemonade from lemons, and I enjoyed the refreshing (and refreshingly honest) drink. From one writer to another.
I got so jazzed reading how you prepped for this audition. As a Costume Designer, I try to do the same thing. To parse out the characters, who are they, how do they live, how do they relate to each other, how can I expand these answer through my use of color, line, cut and texture. But the reality is that Theater ( in any form) is a harsh mistress who loves to build you up and then drop you.
But here is what I see you did – you found JOY in the process, something you needed. Yeah, the casting director is a dummy to have have hired you but you had FUN up until that small negative moment. Enjoy what you did do and how exciting it was to do it. Thank you for being an honest writer.
Ah, Wil. I’m glad you auditioned, and I’m glad you shared that process with us. It’s neat to get a peek into the way you do what you do. I sympathize with your disappointment.
I don’t know if you realize how often you say that you never get the part. I counted five times in this piece alone (three direct plus a couple of variations). [Robin E, commenting previously, does have a point about how you might reframe that thought.]
Of course, the fact that I noticed this at all (AND that I brought it up with you, probably in a too-blunt manner) reminds me that I have a major problem in my own life with repetitive negative thinking, framing facts in terms of absolutes, and other such bits of ugliness that make up my depression.
May your disappointments fade, and may the colors of the loves in your life glow more vividly.
AS YOU KNOW, it’s a heartbreaking business, where sometimes, where OFTEN, the perfect person for the role isn’t given the role, because of things entirely outside that person’s control.
People don’t get the part because they aren’t the right height, or because their hair isn’t the right color, or because the person making the choices about who gets what part is reminded by that person of an ex-lover, or an ex-friend, or of themselves, and a cloud of complicated emotions they’d just rather not think about precipitate into an impulse to remove a worthy human being from consideration for something they might very well be perfect for.
You are doing EXACTLY what any person who wishes to remain healthy and whole must do, and that is to focus on the things that are within your control. You did that, you nailed that, and you know it.
That. Is. A. Win.
That you didn’t get the part is shitty. It is. But, and I intend this as a way of expressing my confidence in you: I’m not worried about you. You’ll get a part. You’re talented, you’re focused, and when you do your best with what you can control, success is inevitable. It is not instant, no. But it is inevitable. You’ll get a part, and you’ll be great, and I can’t wait to see it.
The only true failure is in not trying. If you never “fail” at anything, then you aren’t taking risks and putting yourself out there.
Of course, that little nugget of inspirational-poster wisdom does not take away from how much it f****** sucks to go after something with everything you have, something you really let yourself want, and not get it. While I have not been in your particular situation, I certainly understand the very real feeling of disappointment, and without diminishing that feeling, I would point out that you delivered in all areas that were within your control – your skills, your artistic insights, and your preparedness – AND you enjoyed the process. That’s a very positive takeaway.
Thanks for sharing and continuing to put yourself out there.
I don’t read the Nerdist site or listen to the Nerdist podcast but in 2011 I read Chris’s book “The Nerdist Way”. At first I thought it was useful but simple, now it’s a book I highly value because of Chris’s insights on anxiety and training your brain into new habits. I actually listened to the chapter on anxiety while driving out of town when evacuated during the Fort Mac forest fire (it helped). Chris seemed to deal with internal issues; fixing a bad operating system (alcoholism, anxiety, DOA career). You seem to deal with maintaining a sense of autonomy and success against external pressures (and disappointments). I’m glad that you have Chris in your life as a friend and mentor.
I admire that Chris resurrected his career on his own terms and his personal will to succeed is closing in on legendary (or chronic workaholism!) You and Chris may have different approaches to how you do things but you’re both storytellers and entrepreneurs. Perhaps do what he did and “pitch a smarmy self-help book to Penguin” for you Reset Your Life project. I’m sure there are a hundred stories that you haven’t told about the resetting process; stuff that’s not blog-format friendly but really interesting to know.
You are such a good writer and storyteller. For example, every Christmas I remember your story about “little Christmas” from your podcast. Without saying how difficult it was for your family during that time, you used media and stories to make it clear. I also enjoyed the podcast about the girl in the creepy hotel so much I listened to it twice in a row. When you’re introspective and care about the topic in a way that isn’t trying to be overly sarcastic, twee or funny, you’re really good. You have a talent for expressing how things, time, or situations feel to be in and why they matter.
I’ve never had to deal with being a child celebrity (thankfully) so I can’t imagine what it’s like trying to push the rock of celebrity up the hill every day; a lot like the movie “Groundhog Day” I imagine; maddening and anxiety-inducing I’m sure. My only advice is to write your stories and like Chris, make a career for yourself despite Hollywood. Perhaps Hollywood isn’t for you and you’re destined for better things. You’re lucky that you have a large fan-base to tap into for support and encouragement to help you along your way.
Clearly it is the show’s loss and it will therefore not be as good as it might have been if they had cast you in the part. You are a very good person and an excellent actor/writer/all around entertainer! <3 <3 <3
“Wait…why didn’t you tell me? WHY?!?” I tried hard not to scream, but failed.
“What? That there are others like you? Other people that ‘never get the job’?” he sneered.
“YES! And that other people do their best, and try really hard, and really believe that they’ve nailed it, and still-” His irritated sigh forced the words back in my throat.
“There are seven billion people, did you really think you were original?” He stretched his arms long and wide, somehow taking up most of the room in the cell. “Did you seriously never even consider that other people might struggle? The world isn’t all about you. Besides, what are you going to do? Write him a letter?” The sneer was back in his voice, now accompanied by dripping condescension.
I turned away quickly. Suddenly the walls of the cell became extremely interesting. I wanted to study how the stones were gritty and damp at the same time, and how tiny particles in the walls glittered in the sunbeam from the small window. But I knew if I did that then he would win this battle, so I turned my attention back to him, but remained facing the wall. “Maybe,” I mumbled as I traced a crack with my finger.
Anxiety let loose a huge laugh. “Really? REALLY? What….you think he’ll actually READ it? And why does YOUR opinion matter?”
I could feel the tears pricking my eyes at Anxiety’s words. I flung myself around to face him. “Because I think he would want to know. That there are other people. Like him. That try so hard.” The lump in my throat stopped me from talking and forced me to focus on the uneven floor. Several swallows later I was able to lift my eyes to see the smirk on Anxiety’s face. “He’s close to my age, you know, maybe he-”
“HA!! He’s also an ACTOR that has had REAL PARTS in REAL SHOWS. What have you done? Oh right. Nothing. Oh sorry,” he scoffed, the sarcasm almost as physical as he was, “you took a writing CLASS. You’re not even PUBLISHED. You haven’t even finished your book. Oh wait….your TWO books. What could you possibly have to say to him that would be of any import? Hmmm? That you struggle too? Who cares? Really, bottom line, who really cares?”
I felt a tug on my hand. When I glanced over, I saw it was Confidence, who must have crept into the cell. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I let Wil know that he was heard. And that his words have some impact simply BECAUSE he’s not a blinding success. That he-”
“Oh right, like he’d want to hear tha-”
“STOP TALKING. It’s still my turn.” I could feel myself squishing Confidence’s hand in my own. “I think he needs to know that when I read about his success and failure I understand that I could succeed too. I don’t need to be super famous like JK Rowling or Stephen King. I just need to keep trying. I just need to finish one book. I just need to be the author I always wanted to be.”
“What, this crap you’ve written?” Anxiety waved a hand towards my desk. I glanced over to see the laptop waiting patiently for me, centered on the desktop, light blinking slowly to remind me that it was plugged in and ready. “You going to actually finish it….and then….let strangers…..READ IT….and JUDGE it?” he mocked.
“Shut up. I can do it. I can. I will. I WILL. I will DO IT.” I felt my teeth gnash together and my hands make fists at my sides. I looked down in confusion at one hand, wondering where Confidence disappeared to.
“You are getting out of line. Did you forget your meds?” Anxiety smirked.
My eyes darted to the corner and saw Bipolar Disorder still chained, but struggling against the restraints. “No. I took my meds. I don’t forget.”
Anxiety’s low, rumbling chuckle barreled through my abdomen. “Sure. But you’ll forget again. You’ll ruin things for yourself. We both know it. We’ve both seen it happen.”
“No. Not any more,” I bit out, “I will be a success. Even if only ten complete strangers read my book. My success will be leaving this cell and showing people my finished novel when it’s done.”
“Really, that’s your metric of success?” Anxiety took a moment to roll his eyes around dramatically. “You can leave any time you want. The door is open.”
I couldn’t stop the bile from rising in my throat, but I could stop it from spilling out as I looked towards the door. Yes, it was open. But the exit was blocked. A quick look told me that Fear was still standing there, holding hands with Success and Failure. Nearby there was also the hulking frame of Ridicule standing near the truly massive form named Judgement. “I’m going to do it,” I whispered, “you’ll see.” Instead of staring at the exit I tried to tune out Anxiety’s roaring laughter while I sat at my desk.
A small sound startled me as I opened my laptop. There, sitting in the sunbeam on my desk, was the tiny form of Self Worth. Her smile increased the light of the sunbeam as she softly whispered, “start typing.”
So I did.
<3
I know exactly how you feel, not on the acting front obviously, but on the writing front. It is frustrating again and again when pieces are not published, when one is not chosen to feature at X, Y or Z event despite having done one’s best. However, take heart, you have a wonderful career history and your writing is superb. All your blog posts are crystal clear, a pleasure and a joy to read. Your writing style is sincere, honest and so very congruent. Also, you bring a wonderful honesty to the blogosphere, an honesty and truth that is at once disarming and empowering of others. You mightn’t quite realise how much power lies latent in the words you write, a power that is then able to inspire others to keep going, others, who, like me, are on the other side of the world. Many thanks for such a lovely honest post. I enjoyed reading it and gained both courage and hope from its well crafted words and its soulful expression of emotion and experience.
Sincerely Yours,
Tim Quinlan, Dublin, Ireland.
Ouch, I am deep into the same thought spiral right now. I get to audition (with lines!) maybe every couple months or so if I’m lucky, and I NEVER get the job. The few parts (with lines!) that I have gotten while out here have been because of other things: a palpable enthusiasm for the project nabbed me a role in a deaf web series despite my somewhat bumbling ASL skills at the time (they are hella improved now that I have deaf friends in town), a lack of people auditioning meant everyone who showed up got a part just to fill all the roles, a person I was dating at the time brought me in to fill a role in a play she was doing.
So I definitely know both sides of this: the “I did my best and found the truth of the script and gave a good performance go me” and the “but it wasn’t enough because it’s never enough something about me sucks clearly”. It is both heartening and terrifying to see that this never actually goes away and also that I’m not the only actor who feels it. Although I do suffer from a debilitating case of “feeling forgettable”. I don’t expect casting directors who liked me but cast someone else to remember me for other projects (haven’t seen it happen yet, anyway). Heck I’m surprised when people I have briefly met multiple times remember my name, so when people tell me they’ll keep me in mind for future projects I just nod and smile and say, “Great! Thank you!” and never let my hopes climb too high.
My summer has been filled with pitfalls and pot holes, however there is always coming out on the other side that makes them worth while even though it stings a bit. Just keep moving forward doing what makes you happy.
Wil, so sorry you didn’t get the part, I would have really enjoyed seeing you in it. I manage the Phone Center for a local pizza company here in Seattle, so do a lot of hiring of mostly young people. Sometimes I find myself with one opening but several excellent potential employees—it can be very difficult making a decision between them, and I often feel bad for the ones I don’t choose, especially when they are all good candidates.
Keep moving forward, keep open to the next thing, keep creating on your own…there will be something on the horizon, whether you develop the thing yourself or you go to an audition and someone chooses you for their part. Yes, it is fine to be disappointed, but then channel that passion into the next adventure.
Pulling for you!!
I feel sorry for you Will! And yah, being sad is ok after all it’s a part of our life! You are great and you know that! So in no time you will outshine these darker times, I bet.
Was it for “Serial Ape-ist 3: Monkey Wench Gone Wild”?
Thanks for sharing how you process and break down a character/scene. It’s REALLY helping me come back to a character I’m writing. I got stuck on a scene because while I knew what I want her to do, she wants to do something else. But this is helping me think about things from her perspective and get inside the character. Those questions you provided are invaluable and I’m excited to keep asking them for other characters too. So thanks a bunch!!!
You obviously have a skill at reading, writing, and interpreting written works of literature. Why aren’t you a teacher?
i come to this blog an awful lot to lurk and have, thanks to reading your struggles with depression, moved forward with medications and therapy and have found an awful lot of valuable and permanent life advice from Wil Wheaton and this blog. i want to see will in more stuff i loved him Eureka and on Big Bang ( i’m thankful they allowed his character to grow and change toward sheldon)
i am no actor so i have zero clue what goes into auditioning but if as you say you prepare very well for the part what about pulling an Office Space during you next audition? Go into your next audition like your Therapist died after putting you under a a relaxation hypnosis spell. if your not going to get the job and as you say you never get the job( and agian not sure if this advice is helpful it’s just a thought) then FUCK IT. go into your next audition and clean a fish on the script. roll a tv into the room with a vintage NES and play Zelda till they kick you out. i’m sure casting directors and those you audition before are in general aware of how professionally you prepare and read the script. Look at it like drawing a comic book page and you are a 25yr pro. you don’t need all the breakdowns and horizonlines and blocking the figures in then building with bubble muscles then define features etc etc. Go right to the page like Jack Kirby or Steve Ditko or one of your favorite artists. Maybe go in next time and don’t even read the script till you are sitting waiting to be next up. Go in like you don’t give a shit about thier TPS reports and you need to get home early to watch Kung Fu with your wife and doge(s). I don’t know could it be valuable to you to try one audition like you are Hal Jordan and have jumped off a cliff with out your ring and need to figure things out in the moment. no plan.
Why do i offer this advice?? your struggles with anxiety and depression mirror my own. all the thoughts you hammer yourself with could be ones that i hammer myself with. I got help thanks to this blog. I began to trust my instincts a little more thanks to reading your advice and struggles. currently i am dealing with the fact that every medication i have tried in the last 2 yrs only plunges me further into depression and anxiety, i appear to be in the small percent of people where anti depressants make me even more depressed and move my resting state even lower into depression. I hit Fuck It in the last month and started pulling a George Costanza and started doing the opposite of my instincts, every time the anxiety closed its hand around my chest i took that as signal to … turn into the skid so to speak?? not sure if that makes sense.
you say you won’t get the part anyway. If you have nothing to lose then you have nothing to lose. ( this is all easy for me to say but difficult for anyone to pull off. i understand the anxiety and self doubt trying this would take)
Two more one last things. This month i ordered the book Striking Thoughts a collection of Bruce Lees philosophy on everything and it has been amazing. an incredible book i recommend it to everyone. Seconded my doctors have listened to me and we are starting over again. I now only take a 15mg pill of mirtazapine for anxiety and a sleep aid but the real surprising advice i was given ( i’m not just biploar and depressed, throw in Borderline Personality Disorder to season) was to begin supplementing with Folate, or L-methylfolate as Metafolin from Solgar. two and a half weeks in and i believe i’m noticing one hell of a difference.
I wish you the best and thank you for your blog, man. i check it often and have gotten some very valuable insight into myself and my inner creative life too. Have a great week man.
A friend and I discovered that I have this monkey on my back called “Yeahbut.” No matter what my accomplishments, Yeahbut negates them, “Yeah, but I should have done it sooner,” “Yeah, but I should have done more.” “Yeah, but it wasn’t good enough.” No compliment, no accomplishment, no success, goes by without Yeahbut getting its word in.
Sounds like you have a Yeahbut, too. “I never get the job.”
If you never get the job, then what are these?
Sharknado 2, Video Games, Redaki, Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn, Robot Chicken, The Wil Wheaton Project (your OWN SHOW), Dark Matter, Powers, Big Bang Theory, Table Top (4th season), DC Universe Online, Grand Theft Auto V, Broken Age, There Came an Echo, Code Name: STEAM, Dungeons and Dragons Online, all your audio book work. That’s just in the last four or five years.
Don’t let your Yeahbut negate all that you have done. Yes, let yourself be sad that you didn’t get the job. Anyone would be. But don’t let yourself say “never” because it’s not true. Don’t fall to helplessness and despair. You got this.
Getting turned down sucks.
You know, I’m disappointed too. Because as much as I enjoy your ‘as himself’ work (your writing, Tabletop, con panels, etc.) I really do enjoy your acting. I’d love to see you on screen again. I think I’ve seen pretty much everything you’ve done. Both because I enjoy you personally, and seek out your work, and because you tend to be in the kind of stuff I watch anyway. Dr. Parish was so much fun, and don’t even get me started on Fawkes. Please don’t give up. I’d like to know there’s still a chance I’ll get to see you do that kind of work again, even while I’m enjoying all your other talents.
Wil, this is horrible and ridiculous. Happens just too often to great talent like you. Do you need to only audition for “Old man” parts now?