You've Been Paid? You Are A Professional!

A blogging buddy of mine recently posted about her first big gig as a professional artist. She was gob smacked by the amount she was being paid. She then wrote the following line in reference to her website to promote her art:

The website will host all my “professional” (I had to put that in quotes because I feel like a douche using the word without them) work and clients can access which photos they want to purchase directly the site.

The following is a copy of my response to her post, adapted to suit an actor:

Dear Actor,

Congratulations on your paid acting gig! You are officially a professional actor, and you should not feel like a "douche" when describing yourself as such.

Clearly, you do work of a professional caliber. Others recognize this and are willing to pay you for it. But more important than others believing you should be paid for your work, is you believing you deserve to be paid for your work. Until you can believe that, you will be hesitant to offer your services as a *professional* actor. Just because the status is new doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Again, dear Actor, you are now a professional. You deliver professional-quality performances because you are a paid professional. You deserve to be compensated handsomely for your efforts, as any professional would be.

Here’s to great success in your endeavors and that this is the first of many such gigs! Best,

Donovan

Your work is only worth as much as you can convince someone else to pay you for it. If you can't even convince yourself you're a professional, what hope do you have of someone else seeing that value? The most important step towards a successful acting career is having a powerful champion of your work in your corner, someone who truly believes your work is good and that you deserve to be paid for it, that person is YOU.

Near Panic Attack Over Sitting Up Straight - Really? REALLY?

A few weeks ago I nearly had a panic attack during acting class because I was asked to sit up straight. Ok, it was a little more complicated than that, but somaticaly good posture is all that was requested.

Why was it so upsetting? What did that sitting up business represent?

Many of the introductory games in improv classes deal with status. My favorite involves the ultimate status competition: The High School Reunion. Everyone is dealt a card which sight unseen they place facing out on their foreheads. The players then begin to interact with each other based on the face value of the cards they see on other folks foreheads. Aces attract large crowds of admirers, while 2's and 3's end up as wall flowers along the periphery. Not unlike life.

From an audience perspective the most fun occurs when a character perceives their status to be significantly higher or lower than what is specified on their card. They move through life in a state of confusion, no one behaves in the manner they expect.

At some point in my life, I decided that the best way to attract women was to have a fantastic set of neuroses and insecurities. Women want projects and gosh darnit I was going to be a fixer upper. It seemed to work well for Woodie Allen in his films, so how could it go wrong for me? In my mind's eye I'm a 35ish, underweight, balding, funny-looking Jewish guy with poor eye-sight. In that improv game, I'm a 3 or a 4 of clubs taking cheap shots at the prom king from the sidelines.

I go through a lot of my life as that man, with all the emotional walls, bad posture, self-deprecating jokes, and accompanying existential crises. I even managed to attract a number of fantastic girlfriends (all of whom needed glasses and I imagine resented my glasses envy) - so the plan can't be wholly flawed.

So why a panic attack about sitting up straight? Asking me to sit up straight was asking me to look at the card on my forehead and live up to it. I was being asked to own all six feet of my height, all 20/20 of my vision, and worst of all - 100% of my opinions. As a self-perceived slouching outsider, it was easy - you can say anything you want without fear of conflict if your opinion isn't worth anything.

For better or worse the card I've been dealt lands somewhere closer to an Ace than a Deuce. That's what the camera sees, that's what casting sees, and that's what I'll be asked to play. It's about time I sat up straight and played my hand.

I Finally Passed Groundlings Level II!

I hadn't failed a class since my wannabe stoner phase in middle school. Then I enrolled in Groundlings Level II. I first took it with Kevin Kirkpatrick and was asked to repeat it. Then I took it with Karen Maruyama, and she asked me to repeat it again. 13 weeks ago, I enrolled in Groundlings Level II for a third time, again with Karen.

I am a person who has little tolerance for failure. I'm the worst version of myself when I'm in a situation where I am being asked to do something I don't know how to do. I get very easily frustrated, I loudly crack bad jokes (yes louder and less funny than usual), I pout, and I get short with other people.

If stuck in an uncomfortable situation for a long period of time, I go catatonic. I shroud myself in a hooded sweatshirt, cross my legs over themselves about 8 times and hug myself while slouching severely to one side - in my efforts to disappear I look more conspicuous than a day-glow Unabomber.

Halfway through the last class of the session I was absolutely convinced I had not passed, that I was destined be a Groundlings washout. I was bound and determined to go cry in the bathroom so that it wouldn't slip out in class, but somehow I managed to keep myself together, and got to see my classmates do some fantastic and hilarious work.

Which is why I'm so happy and surprised to announce: I've finally passed Groundlings Level II!

Thankfully I'm in good company: Jennifer Coolidge had to repeat Groundlings Basic three times before she was advanced to Level II, and she did terrible spacework just like me!

Next project: get ready for Groundlings Lab, we're only allowed one crack at it.

Meta project: start to believe in my abilities as an actor, even if it takes hypnotism or overt self-delusion; this doubt is undermining everything I'm pursuing.

How To Thank Your Network

Kristine Oller is a marketing and career consultant for actors. She recently shared what I think is a fantastic idea: inexpensive but not cheap thank you gifts.

A successful acting career is about building and strengthening relationships; in fact most careers are about relationships. It's just that with most careers you only have to lean on your contacts once every few years for help securing a job instead of on a daily basis as actors do. Every time someone vouches for you they are risking a part of their credibility, it's safer not to recommend someone than it is to recommend them. With that in mind, when someone does stick their neck out for you, you should acknowledge it. How?

Every time someone refers a potential employer (CD, director, producer) or employee (agent, manager, etc) to you - even if you don't book the part or sign with them, you should send your referrer a token of your thanks. It doesn't have to be expensive, but it should be significant.

• A hand-written card.
• A gift certificate for a scoop of Ben & Jerry's ice cream.
• Pull a Famous Amos and give them freshly baked cookies.
• A gift card in the amount of the most expensive item on the menu at Starbucks.
• A small trinket that the receiver would enjoy and not perceive as junk.

Yes this is an added expense, and yes you're probably poor and don't have a gift budget. That said, giving a small gift to acknowledge a contact's efforts on your behalf is invaluable. It lets them know you appreciate what they did, it helps to reinforce your relationship, and it makes future referrals more likely. It'll also make your grandmother proud.

Please write a comment with any other ideas you have for inexpensive but good gifts.

A Snapshot of My Life Right Now

Taking a page from my buddy Sokrates' book, I'm going to fulfill my bloggerly duties in the simplest way possible, a list of what's going on with me.

• I'm Now A Day Laborer: In an effort to beef up my wallet (and butch up my image) I'm now doing construction work with a college buddy of mine. The pay isn't great, but the fringe benefits are awesome: watching the sun rise, working outside, and coming home tired knowing that I've earned my keep on this planet.
• Groundlings: I just received my mid-term written evaluation in Groundlings Level II, it said some good things about my characters, and then it shouted "GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD!" Note taken.
• Seydways: My ongoing scene study class is going well. I'm currently working on open-hearted communication. That and trying to cultivate more leading man appropriate qualities in my work.
• Headshots: I just picked up my shots from Reproductions. The focus might be a touch soft, but a bird in the hand and all that.
• Target List: I've assembled a list of the shows and Casting Directors I want to target. I'll be signing up for Casting Director workshops shortly.
• Around The World: I'm picking up some more Producer duties on the project. I've been getting unsolicited positive feedback from friends about the first episode and I'm excited for our last few days of shooting.
• The Winners Circle: I auditioned for and was accepted into a non-dues-paying actors group. It's sort of like The Actor's Network but free and with more performance opportunities. I'm excited.
• Self-Produced Series: My PeeWee Herman meets Bill Nye The Science Guy show concept is shifting, in what I think is a positive direction. It's time to write some episodes already.
• B-Side: I've been working on a redesign of the B-Side Radio website, and if I may say so, it's looking awesome. I'll be posting links once it goes live.
• Cooking: I recently baked a peach pie, an apple crisp, and will soon be baking a pear tart. I'm super excited to use the recipe from the Cook's Illustrated Cookbook my sister gave me for my b-day.

I have a fair amount of stuff going on in my life, and I'm happier for it. Thanks for indulging me in what was essentially a mental dump, I'll be posting more of what you're used to once I acclimate to my new schedule.

The Three Tiers of Actors Auditioning in Los Angeles

Daniel Gamburg was a guest instructor at Seydways Studios this evening and he laid out what he feels are the three tiers of actors auditioning in LA:

1. Those who are Nervous: These are actors who come into the audition nervous, it's clear in their reads, and things are a little flat or too pushed. These folks don't get an adjustment and they definitely don't get called back.
2. Those who are Competent: These are actors who have been in town a few years, beaten their nerves, and turn in a very competent performance. They nail the requirements of the scene, but don't bring anything particularly charismatic to their work. They may get an adjustment to see if they can up their game in their second take.
3. Those who get Called Back: These are actors who absolutely nail the scene fresh out of the gate. They also bring something unique to their performance that elevates the scene above what is written on the page. So long as they fit the physical requirements of the part, these are the actors who get called back. Any one of them is good enough that you could put them on set and get the performance you need.

These seem like pretty reasonable bins to sort auditions into. The eventual goal is to master your nerves, and know yourself well enough that you are always bringing a Callback quality performance into the audition. If you do this, you experience the freeing effect of knowing that casting decisions will come down to issues beyond your control like height, physical type, and your star meter on IMDB.

The truth of the matter is: TV directors have little desire and no time to direct you. They are looking to cast pre-directed performances that can be lit and shot as quickly as possible. Bringing anything less than broadcast quality work into an audition is a waste of the Casting Director's time and yours. So whatever it takes, whatever it is you need to do to get your work to that level: do it.

What a Baguette Taught Me About Being Human

If a falling piano can take your life in an instant of cartoon irony, can't you also begin to live in an instant?

Yes, we are the sum total of our past experiences and our future expectations, hopes, and dreams. But we are also the people we choose to be moment to moment. People will often state character flaws as immutable, and thus forgivable, aspects of their being. "I'm a selfish person." No you're not, or at least you don't have to be.

The beginning of the end of one of my romantic relationships was marked by what my friends know as "The Bread Incident". I was hosting a dinner party for some acting classmates in the Bay Area. I had the stump of a baguette in my hand which I was looking forward to eating. My then girlfriend asked for a bite, to which I replied "No." Let us say, because of my selfishness and insensitivity the rest of the evening did not go well.

I would like to say that days after our eventual breakup and some reflection I came to realize the error of my ways and was living as my new better self. I wasn't. I was the same selfish bread-hording person.

It wasn't until I was out to dinner with my family a few months later that I arrived at a moment of clarity. My mother asked for a bite of my meal and I replied "I ordered this because I want to eat it." My grandmother was apalled, and said to me with great disappointment "Donovan, Keiths share."

Mine is not a family with a strong sense of honor or connection to our ancestors. Sure there were stories, but they were mostly funny recollections of my Great Uncle Bug's many misadventures. The behavior expected of a Keith had been never codified for me until that moment. When my grandmother invoked family lineage and made clear that my behavior contradicted established norms, I was incredibly ashamed.

After her words hit me, a small aspect of my life turned on a dime. I decided that from then on I would make a point of sharing my food. It wasn't easy at first, and happened in stages. It started with me grudgingly giving bites when directly asked, to offering tastes of delicious meals, to my now taking great enjoyment in the preparation of food for others.

Breaking bread was sacred before the Atkins Diet deemed it a mortal sin. It's literally a life-giving act. From your reptile brain's perspective you are risking death by offering up the only food you may ever see again so that your companion may eat. In learning to share food, I learned more of what it is to be human.

I realize this is a behavior I should have mastered when I was five, and is nothing to be particularly proud of discovering so late in life. But it is evidence that people are capable of change, instantaneous significant change.

You can, right now, change a defining aspect of who you are. You can flip the switch from selfish to giving, from timid to confident, from careless to attentive. It simply takes the desire to change and an act of will to see it through.

Q: How many Psychologists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: One. But the light bulb has to want to change.