About three weeks ago, I had my first audition in … um … in so long, I can’t even tell you when the last one was, or what it was even for. I average about 4 auditions a year these days, because most of what acting work I do get is offered to me, and I’m not going to complain about that even a little bit, because I am not an ass.
Anyway, this was the first audition since I had some explosive and life-changing emotional revelations, making it literally the first audition in my life where nothing more than just booking a job was at stake.
I don’t know if I can properly explain it, but that difference was fucking immense to me, and I think is one of the reasons it was the best audition I’ve had in … I want to say a decade? I think the last audition I felt this good about was when I booked Criminal Minds, so yeah it was a long time ago.
I’ve been thinking about it, and I feel like this audition was so great because of how I prepared as a human, as much as how I prepared as an actor. As an actor, I read the script, broke down the scenes, learned the lines, and made clear and specific character choices*. I’m good at that kind of homework, because I’ve been doing it for forty years, literally thousands of times. I enjoy it, and it comes very naturally to me, but I wouldn’t call it “easy”, if that makes sense.
So I did all my creative and professional preparation, like I’ve done for my entire life, and when the usual stress and fear and anxiety didn’t show up, I realized that all the emotional pain and the recovery work I’ve been doing to heal my childhood trauma was actually working! Remember when I wrote about hearing the birds for the first time and noticing that I was out of the dark room? It was similar to that. Maybe I’m making something obvious or uninteresting into something profound, but for the first time in my life, there was nothing more than a role at stake for me, and that freed me up to enjoy every step of the process, including the part where I knew, deep in my heart, that I wouldn’t book the job, because I never book the job**. Since I wasn’t carrying the existential and practical expectation or responsibility to book this job, and didn’t have anything to prove, I just had fun with it. I allowed myself to enjoy the entire process, and I honestly, sincerely, totally did not care if I booked the job. I knew that I’d do a good job, because I always do a good job. You don’t get to keep doing this for forty years if you don’t do a good job. But doing a good job or not really doesn’t matter, because everyone who auditions comes into the room with the same presumed level of competence and talent. We aren’t some of us special and some of us not. There are no sharks or dead money in the waiting room. The thing that’s going to decide who gets this job has nothing at all to do with anything any of us do on the audition. It isn’t about if we are good or bad. It isn’t about being worthy or unworthy. It isn’t about finally booking the job that will make me so famous and successful, my father will finally love me and my mother will finally be happy. It isn’t about any of those things. It’s just about being the best match for the role. And whatever it is that makes the actor they cast the best match is NEVER something that actor did in the room. It’s always something we have no control over, from looking too much or not enough like another actor, to some unconscious energy that hangs around us and makes us who we are. You know how the difference between a gold medal and not making the podium can be .003 seconds? It’s like that, more often than it isn’t.
Again, maybe I am making something simple and obvious into something profound, but I didn’t fully realize and internalize this until very recently. For my entire career, which started without my consent when I was seven years old, I carried so much emotional baggage into auditions with me, it’s a wonder I could even fit it through the door. On occasion, it helped (I have more in common with Gordie than just wanting to be a writer, it turns out), but mostly it just hurt me and weighed me down. Being able to prepare and go into an audition without it was more fun than I ever imagined possible.
Okay. So I had a great time on the audition. This character is so great. He’s misunderstood by the other adults in the picture, but the kids he ends up mentoring believe in him as much as he believes in them. He’s got some incredibly funny bits, and I felt like I could relate to him in a lot of ways that weren’t obvious on paper. I felt like I made some meaningful connections with everyone in the room, and they all felt genuine to me. When I left, I knew that I had done precisely what I set out to do, and did not want to change a single thing. I knew that I had nailed it, and given them the best version of myself. All I could do now was wait and try not to think about it.
About a week went by and we hadn’t heard anything. My manager called casting and they said the producers were taking their time, and that I was in a very small group of actors who were being considered. That was encouraging, and I allowed myself to imagine, just for a minute, how much fun it would be to play this character, and how much I would enjoy being a mentor to a bunch of young actors.
Another week went by, and casting told my manager that I was great, they loved what I did, they loved me as an actor, they loved me as a person, … and they cast someone else.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.
I’m disappointed that I won’t get to play this character, and I’m disappointed that I won’t get to be a mentor on the set to a bunch of kids, and I’m disappointed that I won’t get to work in something that I know I would have genuinely enjoyed, and felt proud of. But I’m not wrecked. I’m not bitter. This is the same thing I’ve heard, nearly verbatim, for going on twenty years now, but since I’m not hauling around all this emotional baggage, I have a healthy and positive perspective on the entire thing. It isn’t about me as a person, or me as someone who never really had a say in what his career was going to be. It isn’t about proving my worth to people who I shouldn’t need to prove anything to. It isn’t about proving anything to myself.
It’s about a different person being a better match than me, and that’s it. That’s literally all it is, and if I hadn’t been emotionally abused so much as a kid, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me until I was 47 to have my “this is water” moment.
So I can feel disappointed, but I don’t feel like I am worthless, or stupid. That is a HUGE thing for me, and I can’t believe I spent literally my entire acting career — and my entire personal life until recently — feeling that way about myself.
*Doing that preparation is my favorite part of being an actor. The joy of discovering what a writer is asking us to do, and the satisfaction that comes with finding that interpretation and bringing it to life is what keeps one of my feet in the acting world, no matter how hard I try to step away from it entirely.
**Criminal Minds aside, it always comes down to me and one or two other actors. I don’t even have to ask for feedback from casting anymore, because I don’t need to hear, “you were great, but they went another way” ever again in my life.
I’m sorry you didn’t get the part, Wil, but I am so happy about the progress you’ve made in how you see yourself and how you handle these situations.
It’s disappointing, of course. I’m disappointed that I won’t be able to see you in this role (whatever it was). I hope an even better role comes along soon, though… one that you’re the perfect fit for!
Welcome to the world of acting. I always treat auditions as little performances and then leave it behind. If I hear back from casting, then that is icing on the cake.
Good for you, Wil. You deserve that peace.
It’s tough, man. Acting is a dangerous profession because entire identities are forged from purely subjective decisions made by people who can’t act. I’ve known too many actors within my personal network who struggle with everything you’ve described here. Most just keep smiling and pushing forward, but a few of them have lost the fight. Keep fighting, Wil. It sounds like you’ve figured out the most important part… that is, not to fight yourself.
Sorry to hear you didn’t get the part. I genuinely like the work you do!
I am very happy to hear that, while you found it disappointing,you aren’t letting the disappointment control you.
Cheers!
As a 50 year-old guy who just got back into this stuff a few years ago, I really appreciate you sharing these very personal insights into the process. I have a great deal of respect and even affection for you as a person because I sense a kindred spirit so, please know, that a lot of this is very similar to the feelings I move through with casting experiences / defeats, etc. and it’s invaluable to here them similarly expressed by a veteran like you!
I feel like I’ve missed something. You talk again about “Anyway, this was the first audition since I had some explosive and life-changing emotional revelations”. Did you reveal them to your audience? Or are these private. Was this the reason you were having the night terrors? Then later you say ” I realized that all the emotional pain and the recovery work I’ve been doing to heal my childhood trauma was actually working!” Could you point me to the entry where this is explained? I don’t mean to trouble you like this but I am interested sincerely and it would help if I understood better. I’m sorry you didn’t get the part. I’m glad that it didn’t wreck you and you were able to handle it better. It shows immense self-awareness and growth.
I’m so very, deeply happy for you. It’s hard to let go of other’s expectations of you but I think even harder to let go of your expectations of yourself. I’m proud of you for doing the work and coming out the other side feeling like a complete and whole human being. It’s a shame it took so long to shake off the shackles of your parents’ pressure, but bravo to you! I can’t wait until some casting people finally come to their senses so that I can see you on my screen again. I’ve enjoyed every performance!
thanks as always for your candor. it sucks that you didn’t get this role, but the level of clarity and peace you’ve worked so hard to attain is enviable. As always, can’t wait to see what you create next.
Wil, thank you for sharing. I too was abused as a child and I know the recovery process can take for flippin’ ever. I’m 62 and while I think I’ve mostly embraced the healing there are days when darkness envelops me and I have to make myself claw my way out of it. I have to make myself because it’s warm in the darkness and comfortable. It swirls around me and makes me want to stay there where I don’t have to do anything or be anywhere or interact with anyone. It’s hard work climbing out of it and as I’ve watched/listened to you relate your experiences over the years I’ve been so happy for you as you move forward and upward. As my tattoo of Dory says, “Just keep swimming”. Thanks again for sharing.
Well not for nothing….you were on Big Bang Theory and you were really great. I guess that audition went well to say the least. Push forward. 40 years in the business is fabulous. Now go out there and kick some serious ass!!! Best Wishes, CherS
Aw nuts! Of course we always want to see you do more acting. This is such a wonderful read. I remember you writing about your auditions for “I, Robot” and the disappointment in not getting the role. I remember the early Radio Free Burrito episode where you recorded in the car in the parking lot because you were so excited on how well you thought the audition had gone. I remember reading how much you and Anne were struggling (because of Anne’s ex) and financially struggling with vet bills for the cats. I’m so glad things are just generally better for you and your family. I’m so so glad of how much mental health work you’ve done this year and I’m so very glad to read things like that. Is it weird that I’m proud of you? I’m proud of you. <3 Thank you for everything. Kisses to Marlowe <3
I’m so sorry you did not get the part. However, hearing your healthy response, I rejoice at the victory it is!
It is so amazing sometimes, to feel the one thing, in this case disappointment, without the tendrils of worthlessness and its ilk that so often complicate our responses. I’m so happy you can appreciate it, and I hope it becomes the norm in the times when you experience disappointment.
I can identify with this so much. You have articulated the exact feelings I have had walking in to every job interview I have had over the last 10 years and waiting for that feedback or the call that to know what I already knew – someone else won the role, but dammit we just loved you. I’m proud of you Wil. The work on self-love is a hellish process that we all go through, and sometimes it feels like it wasn’t worth it, but for these wins it is. Keep hearing the birds sing, because it makes the days so worth it.
Give Marlowe some love and skritches from a pittie lover from the East Coast. I hope she heals quickly for you and Anne. I know how rough it is keeping an energetic pupper calm while they have to heal up. ❤
Go Wil !!! It makes me happy to read that you are in a good place.
Well, goes without saying but, their loss. Simple.
“nothing more than just booking a job was at stake”
These seem like such easy words to say, but it can be a lifelong struggle to get to the point where you can say them and mean them. Going through life feeling like every success or failure is a referendum on your worth as a person is a heavy burden to bear. Being able to put that burden down and realize that the stakes are almost always a LOT lower than that can give you a whole new freedom to simply enjoy life. You’re right that it’s hard to put into words because it’s such a huge shift, but rest assured that some of us do understand. 🙂
What ever happened with the TableTop series you were working on? I have not seen a new one in a long time and Geek and Sundry looks like an empty shell of what it was just two years ago.
Definitely is not a failure as we never fail! It is an experience that I believe make us who we are! Keep following your dreams! 😊
I’m sorry you didn’t get the part. I was hoping to see you in this one. I’m so happy that you were able to enjoy the experience of auditioning. Thank you for sharing.
Well, that’s disappointing for me because I really would like to see you in something again, sooner rather than later. But, setting my needs (ha) aside… I’m in awe of how far you seem to have come in self realization. It’s great to read how you can go into an audition and have fun and feel good about your preparation and performance. I don’t know how you do that, losing an opportunity you really want, would just feel personal to me. That’s why I don’t do what you do, duh. I guess I came late to the blog because I have never read about the trauma of your youth, but you seem to have traveled a long way from that child, and I don’t just mean in years. I hope people who read your blog that have similar emotional backgrounds take away a lot from what you share. Keep doing what you’re doing.
Well I am sorry you did not get the part. I just want you to know that you have mentored a whole bunch of kids in real life. My son for one. And I am not talking about kids who followed you as fanboys/fangirls. The different roles, personalities, and characters you have portrayed have helped young folks see themselves and to be able to identify and discuss issues they face.
You might personally (and rightly so) hate the ST:TNG quote of “Shut up Wesley”, but when I play episode that for teenage students it opens up conversations that begins with statements such as: “Hey that happens to me too.” “Man, I hate when my father does that to me.” “Yeah, that what they do, ask us our opinion and then dismiss what we say.” We are then able to have heartful discussions on the topic.
When my kids and I watched you portray Wesley making a decision to not enter Star Fleet and find a his own calling, my son said, “He had to make his own life decision to satisfy himself, not all the others.” Years later my son was ready for college and had always planned a career path in the nuclear science/tech field. He decided to major in History. He received a bunch of flak from most of the adults in his life who always expected he would major in physics, or some type of science. He told me he loved history and would join the Navy to go into their Nuke program, but he would never go back to college for a degree in history. He finished by saying, “I have to make my own life’s decision for what satisfies me, not anyone else.” Hmmm I thought to myself, “I’ve heard those words before from him.”
So even if it only means a little bit to you, you and your ability to bring characters to life over the years has indeed mentored kids. Thank you. But it is still too bad you did not get the part, you would have been great in it. ~ CJ
Hi Wil,
Wow. I love that you’re able to be disappointed but not take it personally. that is majorly good mojo. AND NOT EASY TO DO. Very pleased for you. And super pissed about you not getting the part. Hey, I can be pissed. Im your champion. I can lift all that sad and hurt and insecure pissedoffness that you might have felt at one time, stuff it into a pillowcase, and whack it against the wall. Repeatedly.
Something better always this way comes. Yes?
Thanks for sharing. Big win.
I’m glad you know, Wil, that you are more then acting or pleasing anyone other then yourself. This show might have been good, or relegated to the DVD sale bin, but you gave it your best. I hope the next work you go out for is the one you get the most joy out of.
I feel weirdly happy for you that you didn’t get the part, because while you didn’t get the part, it sounds like you got a new perspective and I know from experience how valuable that can be. That said, I look forward to seeing whatever you act in next (and whatever fiction you write next – I really enjoyed Dead Trees Give No Shelter).
Wow! That is huge!!! Congratulations. It’s moments like this that show you just how much progress you have made 😁
This is really “just” a job interview. Take Wil’s words and reinterpret them as a regular job interview. Do you do your prep? Do you put yourself in the best possible head-space? Do you really try to understand the job, the company, and your future coworkers? Do you envision yourself as actually doing the job, seeing it as part of your life going forward?
I’ve been on both sides of the interview table countless times in my years as an engineer. The most joyous interviews were always when the prep (on both sides) was done right and thoroughly. When the candidate isn’t just the block fitting the hole described by the job description, but actually brings something new to the table, like a breath of fresh air.
And I’m not talking about personality. I’ve seen really nice and engaging people blow interviews. I’ve also seen hesitant and shy folks gently refocus the entire interview.
One thing acting has, and all job-seekers and employers should adopt, is the concept of the “table reading”. It’s where the job description itself is the context, with all folks involved working to learn about it and improve it. At the very least, a company should do it internally before exposing it to applicants. But letting the applicants have input is also valuable, if only in the sense of confirming that their understanding of the job description matches the need you hope it expresses.
Even the jobs you don’t get should provide useful and worthwhile experiences. But that benefit comes only when the prep has been done beforehand, and you bring your “A Game”.
I wish you had gotten the part, because I always love watching you act. But I’m so happy to hear how good you are feeling about yourself – now you know how we feel about you!
This is really on point for me as well, in my own personal trauma recovery work I’ve discovered the same reaction – especially in my own creative endeavours..
I too can finally experience the words of Bruce Lee “My only sure reward is ‘in’ my actions, not ‘from’ them.”
Darrel
I’m glad you’re okay, Will 🙂 It’s good to see.
That’s called mental health! Good for you!
I used to work in human resources and I tell young people not to dread interviews; go on as many as you can for practice; to meet as many different people as you can in the industry you want to be in; and have fun! You never know who’ll you’ll meet that you’ll make an impression on and remember you for a future project or position.
This makes me so happy. I wish we would get to see you in the role, of course, but I am glad to hear you are at peace. xo
I’m glad you have had your “this is water” moment. I hope this means you can have fun swimming and not worry about drowning.
I literally could be turned down three times, and then I would be done with it forever. At some point it becomes a hobby, right?
Good for you, Wil. You deserve that peace of mind. Good job for figuring it out!
I am so glad that you have this peace in yourself now. ☺
I have used “Stand By Me” as an English and Media teaching text for my third year pupils for about…oh…8 years? I knew from the extras that Corey Feldman had a strong connection to his character’s emotional situation. I didn’t know about your own. As someone who is still working through the impact of her childhood on her adult life and emotions, I am so, so glad for you that you are putting yourself and your emotions into a better place. Thank you for this.
Thank you for sharing your inner thoughts,Wil. Like many others,I am sorry you didn’t get the role….it always stings a bit more when something you really want just doesn’t happen. Here is hoping the phone rings again very soon….
That is so wonderful, Wil! No matter what happened you had already won the best prize of all – peace of mind (at least in this scenario 😏). Thank you for sharing!
I’m sorry for you that you didn’t get the role. I’m also sorry for me in that it sounds very interesting. But to a greater degree, I am happy you are in a better place. This world needs more Wil Wheaton in it, and even more so, this world needs a Wil Wheaton that enjoys his day, and gives the world quality words to absorb and enjoy. Thank you and congratulations!
It’s great you are able to do those casting calls and still take it all in after being turned down. I go through that in my career as an IT professional at 44 competing against people half my age. It is disappointing. But I know my craft very well and I don’t need others’ approval to affirm that for me. And we all know….you don’t either.
Take care, Wil!
“And whatever it is that makes the actor they cast the best match is NEVER something that actor did in the room.” — I wouldn’t say “never”, but as someone who has spent time on both sides of the audition table in theatre, it’s something I have tried to explain to actors for years. The performance you put out an an audition is definitely part of what will land a role, but as you said so well above, there are all sorts of other factors. If you are 6′ tall you aren’t going to get cast if everyone else the casting team is looking at is around 5′ 4″. If they are casting a family and you’re a blond, you have a much lower chance at the role if the rest of the family is going to be made up of brunettes. The casting team has to look at the entire cast and decide if a particular actor fits or not. I have seem production staffs pass over actors with some truly brilliant audition performances simply because they weren’t a fit with the rest of the people who were being considered, and they had indicated that they weren’t interested in other roles in the production.
Wil, it’s great to see that you have a new attitude towards auditions and thanks for sharing your experiences with the rest of us!
It is awesome to hear that you are healing! That is what matters most, and enjoying life and what you do in this life. Keep being amazing and we your fans will keep supporting and loving ya!
Wil Wheaton. You, sir, are a delightful human being, and it makes me happy to see you so happy like this. I just want to give you a hug, but from a respectful distance and only with my mind because I know you don’t like weird strangers hugging you. And if I’m being honest, I’m not really a hugger myself. It’s just you’ve been so open with your mental health endeavors, even when it was really painful. It’s good to see the happy too. I have ADD/Anxiety/Depression, and I try to be open like you are in hopes that someone who might be struggling the same way will see me and realize they’re not alone and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Well done Wil! I know it might not seem like it to other people, but those “AHA!” moments are so mind blowing. We are all growing and learning differently, and some things that people learned and “got” at 15 take some of us to 35 or 70 or NEVER. You have every right to be happy and proud of reaching a “new level”. We’re rooting for you!
I know very little about acting, but I know a little more now. I also don’t know much about living even though I have been breathing for about 20 years longer than you. Well, maybe I know a little, but I am always learning more and I learned a little more here, today. Thanks, young feller!
Wil, when I read this entry, I hear the voice of experience coupled with the insight of how the game works. You might have said something about this before but are the skills you have aligned with the interest to coach, mentor, and teach the lessons you have learned? Is that a career move you have/could take? Best wishes
Jeff
It’s great to know that you have come to a place where your emotional life can be a help rather than a hindrance, and you don’t confuse the process of auditioning with your self-worth as a human being. As you know, most actors share with you the “You just weren’t what we were looking for” part of the experience, but only a few have built the credibility and relationships to have stuff OFFERED as happens to you. So, as long as you never forget that Depression is a FUCKING LIAR, you can be more happy than most with both your acting and your self.
Also, remember that Eric Stoltz got the first shot at playing Marty McFly. Sami Gayle wasn’t the original choice to play Nikki Reagan on Blue Bloods. Two other actresses preceded Sharon Gless in Cagney and Lacey. Even if they said no for now, you never know what’s in the future. Nichelle Nichols wasn’t Gene Roddenberry’s original choice to be the groundbreaking black face on the USS Enterprise. Even if they said “No,”” the fact that you impressed them means that you are in that elite small group of actors who has as good a chance as anybody for a role, and better than most.
I can’t help but think that you are going to land in your biggest role, the one that comes to define your life and your legacy, sometime after you pass age 60. It’s so good to read that you are learning the skills and lessons that’ll help you be happy with yourself until then!
I’m sorry you didn’t get the part, I’d love to see you in a movie!
“For my entire career, which started without my consent when I was seven years old […]”, that sentence broke my heart </3