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I'm really very sorry about this.
I was in the middle of sending you a breakdown of the selftape that booked me a job on the scottish docu-drama, Outlander.
It was supposed to be a glorious return of Selftape Pizza, the first of the year.
But just before I sent it to you my deep research team (me) realised the tape has plot spoilers in it (that i'd completely forgotten about) and the episodes affected haven't been released yet (just googled it).
So, in the interest of not being sued by Starz,
I'm not going to send that
yet.
Instead, here are the first three editions of Selftape Pizza from before Christmas.
If you are new, welcome to the team.
Selftape Pizza is the bit of this newsletter readers bring up most. Some have had recalls using the Brando method. Some have had cool feedback from their agents. Some have found it freeing. And some disagree with it vehemently.
The three emails below are an attempt to:
- reclaim the joy in our art
- help you feel less alone in a practice that is very very isolating
- prove that very imperfect tapes book jobs (we don't all have to be fkn Dacre Montgomery)
Here are those emails in order:
If you read these before Christmas, scroll on past. There's some new stuff below.
1. β Start here.
How to tape without learning any lines.
2. β Then.
The "really? that tape got him the part?" tape. + a gear list.
3. β Finally.
+ top 10 reasons casting might be ignoring you.
Daddy
I was doing a small stage thing this week, and I was having a pretty sticky performance. At some point i could feel myself losing it, my flow, my clarity of thought, the chatter in my head growing louder and louder "they hate you", "you have know idea what you're saying, do you?" "you're such a jerk", that sort of thing, inward, getting sweatier and sweatier, pushing harder and harder to keep my hands on the reins, the harder I push the more mistakes i make "jerkface" you know better. focus on the other. just get through. I did. As I'm sure you know your audience isn't the one you can tell these things too. So I drove home not knowing quite where to put this frustration. this anger at myself for not living up to my expectations. As I walked through my front door feeling like I probably shouldn't show my face in that theatre ever again, my almost 2 year old daughter came steaming round the corner shouting "Daddyyyy" (i kid you not) and gave me a rather large squishy hug.
This of course put everything in perspective very quickly. She had pulled me out of my head and back into the world of meaning. If i could have held her there forever I would have. But she can wriggle for england. And off back towards the kitchen she went.
It did not take away the discomfort i felt from the show, for that i did a journal debrief in the evening. And as with all things like this (i've had a few (read: many)) I know the pain will pass.
But she brought me back into the real world. I'm so grateful she did. That mad wiggling bundle of joy.
If you had a moment like that last week, hit reply and tell me what it was. Reader wins are the best and they're back next week.
Have a great week x
P.s. If this newsletter has been helpful in anyway and you are feeling clicky-go-lucky - let me know what you thought in the poll below π
p.p.s. and if you've come over from the Impulse fam, welcome. Really glad to have you - reply to this and say hi, or I'm sure i'll meet you on a Friday someday soon!