INT. BEDROOM – MIDDLE OF THE NIGHTA young thespian tosses and turns in bed. A clock on the nightstand reads 3 a.m.
SMASH TO:
INT. THE ACTOR’S MIND – NIGHTMAREThey stare at a phone. Time passes, slow and dreadful. It finally rings. An audition. Suddenly we find them in an audition room.
CASTING DIRECTORWow, that was soooo amazing. Great job.Thank you soooo much.
Our hero comes screaming awake.
The first audition in weeks. Yet another rejection.
It comes in waves. You have a great few weeks auditioning all the time. You may have even booked something. Then it slows down for a while. You feel a small sense of relief that you don’t have to drive to Santa Monica for once. Two weeks pass. Three. Hmmm. Maybe the drive to Santa Monica wasn’t so bad.
Before you know it, you’ve gone from the sweet relief of not having to leave the Valley for a 5 p.m., to the debate of whether or not leaving your hometown was a good idea, finally arriving at the incessant and horrifying existential realization that perhaps you are nothing but a poor player, strutting and fretting his hour upon the stage.
You are full of sound and fury.
You’ve contacted your reps and asked what
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