Non-Union Rates

I got a casting call email today for a prime-time network TV show filming in my city. They need female extras to play prostitutes. The project offers non-union pay rates that will be "at least minimum wage" with "overtime pay after eight hours." Extras must be available for twelve hour shifts with most scenes filming outside on these hot summer days.

I hope that real prostitutes don't have to work twelve hour shifts in summer heat, and that they make a whole lot more than minimum wage. (Naturally I wish that no one had to prostitute themselves or others.)

Though my visual merchandising job is no gem, I'll stick with it for the time being if this is the quality of acting work that my city has to offer now.

Overweight? Out of shape? Me?

I am a healthy weight. I go to the gym twice a week. I walk with my sweet dog for a mile and a half most nights. I am a vegetarian who rarely eats fast food or highly processed food. I wear a size 4 in most clothing brands.

Yet I was requested to audition for an overweight, out of shape, fast food customer for a Public Service Announcement about making healthier choices. Then I got a callback audition for the role.

I am offended to the core of my self-esteem. I work hard to stay in shape. I should be a walking PSA for making healthy choices; not the "before" picture.

Of course, if I don't book this role, I'll be further offended that I wasn't good enough, and won't at least earn a paycheck for my time, effort and humiliation of auditioning twice.

Being an actress is a mean, petty, soul-sucking business. And I'm a glutton for punishment.

Yes, I Get Paid

Sorry for the long radio silence. I've been busy.

Lately friends have asked to be informed about theatre shows I do which are open to the public. (Most theatre shows I do are private performances for corporate functions or wealthy peoples' parties.) I'm sheepish about inviting friends to shows for a number of reasons.

1. I don't pay to watch any of my friends work. My friends will be the first to admit it would be boring to watch them work. Most of them type on computers and sit in meetings to earn money. I did have a few friends who worked as "dancers" (a.k.a. strippers) over the years. One lovely lady invited me to a burlesque show in which she was performing. Yes, we were friends who had changed clothes in front of each other many times. No, I didn't want to see her doing sexy striptease.

2. I don't have the luxury of offering free tickets and/or free meals to my friends. These little theaters and big restaurants where I perform need to make money. You know, so they can pay rent, utilities and the actors.

3. Dinner Mystery and/or new stage works by emerging playwrights may not be everyone's cup of tea.

4. Live theater is a collaborative effort. I'm not sure exactly how it will turn out. Despite my best efforts, it may suck. That's part of what makes live performances exciting and fun.

5. Friends (okay, frenemies) have come to shows in the past and been bitchy.

Like that one frenemy who announced to the whole audience that she didn't feel like she was talking to my dim-witted character when the fourth wall came down for a bit of audience interaction, but like she was talking to someone smarter. I was in character, dangit! I was dropping a clue that Bambi (my character) had some still waters running deep. Though Bambi presented herself as a sweet airhead, she was actually a conniving murderer who masterminded a poisonous plot. Did this frenemy apologize later? Nope.

Then there was that other time, after a show when another frenemy saw a guy walk up and hand me a piece of paper. "Oh my gosh. Did that guy just slip you his phone number? I'm going to tell your husband!" No. That guy was the show's director handing me a paycheck. "Oh... wait... you get paid?" Yes, Dummy-Dearest. I get paid to do my job. It's not exactly like your job, but it is a job.

When it Rains, It Pours on my Parade

A few months passed with no communication from my agent: a virtual career drought. I thought perhaps they lost my number, and felt okay about that. This week, already very busy with the part-time job I took that's actually beyond full-time, I booked three auditions. It's raining auditions!

I did well at the first audition, but felt the client wanted someone older-looking and more matronly than I am. Fine by me that I don't look like the mom of a teenager. I made a good connection with a casting group I'd not met previously.

The second audition of the week was booked for early in the morning. I'm not fond of mornings. I'm a total night-owl. My talent agent told me that the casting guy, who I like and think is reasonably nice, wouldn't say what the product for the commercial was, but that it was something to do with green energy, perhaps solar or wind power. Sure, I'll get up early on my day off from my other job to promote green energy! Imagine my surprise, no, my dismay, to arrive at the audition and discover that the product/service/energy option being pimped is coal. I spent two years living in West Virginia, and have actually toured a coal mine. I'm no fan of coal, and do not find it to be "green" in any way. My audition provided some cutting-room-floor fodder... accidentally on purpose. The fact that I sacrificed sleep to go to that waste-of-time upset me.

The third audition of the week was another commercial. I took an extra long lunch-break from my other job for the appointment. The commercial shoot sounds like it will be fun, if a bit sweaty in the summer outdoors. I'd love to book this, but am pretty sure they're looking for an actual family, rather than a random sampling of strangers who look like they could be related.

Anybody got an umbrella?

More of a Hobby

Most of the live/theater acting I do is either very well paid dinner mystery shows, very well paid team-building facilitation for corporations or not very well paid theater festivals. Occasionally the group I work with for the dinner mystery shows does performances that are open to the public at such... um, what's the opposite of prestigious, venues as Dave & Buster's or Spaghetti Warehouse. However, most shows are for private groups and are hosted in hotel ballrooms, historic bars, landmark restaurants, country clubs or even on a steam train.

In the past month, the group with which I work has had to cancel public shows due to lack of reservations and lack of interest. I'm not paid for the time I spent studying those two different scripts. Naturally, I'm not paid for shows not performed.

My income continues to fall. This acting thing continues to be less of a profession and more of an expensive hobby.

Where's some mailbox money (also known as "use of image" checks that arrive by mail) when I need it?

Act Naturally

The good news: I'm getting much more comfortable with commercial auditions, as long as I'm not told to give a big grin and hold it for no reason. I'm proud of my auditions lately.

The even better news: I've had a few call-backs.

Now the bad news: But I haven't booked a commercial since August.

The count-my-blessings: I've had lots of paying theater and game facilitator work over the past two months. Hooray for paychecks!

Pay to Play

I'm registered with four casting websites, because different casting agents like to use different sites. Each week I get emails from at least three of the four websites prompting me to activate the billing information and pay to have my information be more visible to clients of casting agents. My information is already visible to casting people at no charge to me. So, I really don't feel like paying to have my information more visible to their clients.

My talent agency wants $100 a year* to post my name, photo and a link to my acting résumé on the agency website. (This fee in addition to the 15% - 30% cut of each paycheck I earn from their bookings. They work for their cut of those checks, and I don't begrudge them that money.) *Please note that this fee is no guaranty of work.

This week I received an email directly from a casting director urging me (and countless other undisclosed recipients) to go to one of the casting websites to submit myself for a job. (I'm actually booked for one of the days the shoot would require, but thought I'd submit in the case that I could just work the other days.) Upon following the website link to submit myself for the job, I learned that I must either pay a monthly fee of $30* for unlimited submissions or a one-time fee of $5.00* per job submission. *Please note that this fee is no guaranty of work.

One of the casting websites sends out a monthly newsletter. A few months ago a column in the newsletter opined that it is unprofessional to complain about the expense of acting photos, job submissions and website fees. Of course one of the casting websites that wants $30 of my money each month would opine that I should pay them and not complain. I, on the other hand, opine that it is predatory to charge people to even apply to possibly audition for a job.

I'll just keep using the free features of these websites, thanks. And if the casting agent is professional, they won't make me pay to even submit myself for a job, because *please note that this fee is no guaranty of work.

I'd Like to Thank...

My talented husband designed a website for E! online to track tweets with the Oscars hashtag (#oscars). I'm so proud of him. I had a physical sensation of surprise and happiness in my tummy when I saw his very cool website in action for the first time, followed almost instantly by a melancholy realization that my husband's accomplishment will be the closest I ever come to the Oscars.

PIC: Play It Cool

It's oh-so-tempting to brag to all your friends, acquaintances and frenemies about getting to work on the set of a movie or television show. What happens when your line gets cut? What happens when your scene gets cut? What happens when the movie never gets picked up for distribution or television airtime? What happens when the television show gets cancelled before your episode airs? In my personal experience with all of the aforementioned situations, I tried to play it cool - with varying degrees of success.

My advice to all struggling actors is to play it cool. Sure, tell people in humble terms that you got to work on such-and-such set. Tell them how fun it was or wasn't. Go ahead and mention anyone famous you may have met, but don't make it sound like you're suddenly BFFs. Conversely, don't disparage the famous people you met. If the famous person/people behaved in a less-than-humanitarian manner, resist the urge to dish, and acknowledge that we all have bad days. Do NOT under any circumstances overstate your role in any project. If you worked as an extra, admit it graciously. If you have a line (or three), might I suggest the following phrase, "I may have a line (or three) in the project, but you never know until you see it. I'm not sure what will happen in editing." If that movie you were so excited to work on ends up being too silly for even the most melodramatic movie-of-the-week, and never shows anywhere, have a little giggle about it with your friends. Beat them to the punchline. Be thankful for the experience.

When the HBO movie on which you worked as an extra wins lots of Emmy Awards and a Golden Globe, be proud that you worked on the project, met some of the stars and got to go to the premiere. However, be ready for acquaintances to remark that they couldn't pick you out of the crowd. (Those acquaintances probably don't like their jobs and/or are stuck in a bad relationship.) Resist the urge to rattle off all the names of all the famous people you've met, worked with, eavesdropped on, shaken hands with, had friendly conversations with or held doors open for on set. Play it cool.

A Real Paycheck

About the time I start thinking I want a real job with a predictable work schedule and a steady income, the acting work and acting paychecks start rolling in again. I have several dinner theatre shows booked this month. Each performance generates nice checks. I also got my first taste of "mailbox money" in the form of a "use of image" check for that national SAG commercial I did back in August. Not only was I paid very well for the long day of shooting the commercial in which I appear in the background as a blurry shadow, but I also get quarterly checks for as long as the commercial runs. A girl could get used to cashing "use of image" checks!

Despite the recent flurry of paychecks, I still long for a more predictable schedule with more steady work. I'd have to move to L.A. to have a chance of fulfilling my ultimate dream of being a sitcom mom or the recurring wacky aunt character on a long-running show. Goodness knows it won't happen in my current city. (I did work as an extra on a TV show this fall in my city, but the show was cancelled after the second episode aired.)

My contract with my talent agent comes up for renewal in six months. I've had many commercial auditions resulting in a handful of callbacks, but no real work resulted from these auditions. When I did the SAG commercial, I didn't audition. The casting person simply chose my photo from my talent agency's website after my agent confirmed that I was available for the shoot. I knew that making it as an actress would be difficult, but I didn't realize how much emphasis would be placed on commercial work. I'm an actress; not a skinny, blond spokesmodel. I honestly won't be sad if my agent chooses not to renew my contract. I'll still do theatre work with or without an agent. Although the theatrical performances don't pay as well as the SAG commercial, I have more fun doing them, get to work with a cohesive group of actors consistently and do some actual acting versus walking around the background and/or smiling until my face contorts into muscle spasms.

Six Degrees of Separation

My wonderfully supportive better-half previously worked in advertising. Though he took off to pursue other ventures over eighteen months ago, we still socialize with his ad buddies. I knew the day would come when I'd have to audition for one of our acquaintances. That day was Saturday.

Mercifully the audition was taped by a casting director (this one I like quite well) to be viewed by our quirky yet intimidating, advertising-guru-friend a later time.

I did not get the part.

I hope that the next time I see this person from the ad company, neither of us mentions the audition tape. It wasn't that I did a bad job. I did a good (not great) job. The whole situation is just a bit awkward.

Thank goodness I never had to audition for any commercial projects my better-half produced. That would have been unbearable.

SAG Overtime Rocks my Checking Account!

About six weeks ago I complained about the horrendous overtime I worked on a commercial shoot. That was before I knew what a nice paycheck all that overtime would yield on a shoot adhering to Screen Actors Guild rules. I'm not saying that I suddenly decided I enjoyed the sixteen-hour day (or nineteen-hour day including drive time), but I'd do it again for that amount of money. My financial and time investments into getting a talent agent have payed off. (Yes, my lovely, hardworking agents secured this job for me.) I've broken even. Hallelujah!

The oddest part of this adventure into SAG-Overtime-Land is that no one will see me in the commercial. At best I'll be a blur in the background - a very expensive blur.

I'm happy to have the money, but I'm sure whoever got stuck with all the unexpected expenditures of that (out of control and way over budget) commercial shoot is not at all happy to pay the many people involved in the project. The lesson: don't make actors and crew do the time if you can't pay for your crime. Sheriff SAG patrols these here parts, and he suffers no fools.

So That's What it Feels Like

I finally had a good, no, a great commercial audition! I tried out for two different roles in a series of commercials. The first role went well enough, but I had a little trouble with the second role. The casting director (one that scares the bejeezus out of me) gave a few constructive notes and sent me back out to the hallway to work. Fifteen minutes later I marched back into the audition room and nailed it! The uber-intimidating casting director smiled big (the first time I've seen this person smile genuinely) and said, "Great job! Nice adjustment!" I was so pleased, I gave a "woo!" of joy right there in the room.

I did not get the part (unless they're waiting four weeks to announce casting), but having a great commercial audition raised my confidence for-sure. And that casting director no longer scares the bejeezus out of me. I'm all for constructive direction!

Not at all Glamorous

Late Sunday evening, I got a call from my agent that I booked a role as a customer for a national SAG commercial. Score! I'd need to drive 90 miles each way to another city for the shoot, but I'd be reimbursed for mileage. Great! I got an email letting me know when I needed to be where and what type of clothes to bring. Can do!

A mere twelve hours after my agent's phone call, I arrived at the location and was directed into a parking spot. I signed in and did my paperwork. One of the production ladies told me that the call time was pushed back half an hour, didn't I get the message?, no, oh well. My first half hour would be unpaid. No big! I asked about my mileage reimbursement. The Production Assistant and the Production Coordinator whispered to each other that I would not be eligible for mileage money, but they never bothered to answer me directly.

Then I sat in an air-conditioned trailer for about ten hours chatting with other cast and crew members, reading a magazine cover-to-cover, drinking water, nibbling stale pretzels and texting my husband about how bored I was.

Finally I was ushered to the set. I rehearsed the short scene a few times. Then the director decided he didn't like what I was wearing, and sent me with the wardrobe lady to change clothes. He wanted me in a style of clothes completely different from all the clothes I was instructed to bring, and had lugged into the wardrobe room. Thank goodness the wardrobe ladies were prepared for such contingencies and steamed the wrinkles out of an outfit for me. Thank goodness the outfit fit my curvy figure. I had to leave the itchy price-tags attached and tucked into the clothes against my skin, so that the wardrobe peeps can return the worn clothes when the shoot is over. Ewww.

I went back to set, where the director approved of the new outfit. I spent half an hour walking back and forth pretending to admire goods in the store. Because the shoot was running so far behind schedule, and because the sun had set, super-bright lights were employed to make it look like daytime. The super-bright lights inspired lots of sweat and high temperatures. When sound is being recorded, the air-conditioners and fans must be turned off so as not to interfere with the sound. Cue more sweat.

After finishing my scene, I exited the sweaty set to get a cold drink and cool off. Within ten minutes, a Production Assistant was sent to wrangle me back into the sweaty room, where I was instructed to sit and wait out of view and out of the way in case they needed me again. So I sat. And sat. And sat. For another four hours. Finally one of the guys who actually gave a hoot about the budget asked why I, along with two other actors, were still there. Could we go? Hold on. They'll check. Ten minutes later, we were allowed to leave. I put my own clothes back on my body. I lugged all of my clothes, shoes and accessories back to my car. None of the strong men standing around offered to help me. I got in my car and drove 90 miles home, singing loudly with all the AC vents pointed at my face to stay awake.

Making commercials, movies and TV shows is not at all glamorous. Red carpet events and movie premieres are only about 1% of the job and only for the top 1% of celebrities. You've been warned, aspiring actors and crew.

Friend in Common/Awful Audition

Today's audition was of the commercial variety. (Faithful readers know how much I loathe commercial auditions.) The maker of a high-tech medical gizmo wants video of a spokesperson inviting medical professionals into their booth at trade shows. Since I am not currently a medical professional, and never have been, I spent a while googling all the medical jargon and the gizmo. I figured out what was what in the script and memorized the 3/4 page of copy.

I showed up for the audition today feeling fine. While I waited for my turn, I noticed the casting lady eyeballing me every time she came out into the waiting area. This is a new casting lady that I'd never met before. When I got into the actual audition room, the casting lady introduced herself. She said I looked soooo familiar to her and that my name was also familiar. We spent a few minutes figuring out that we have a fancy producer/director friend in common. This fancy friend forwarded my headshot and acting résumé to the casting lady a few months ago. Thanks so much, fancy friend!

Then I started my audition for the medical gizmo. I stumbled over my words and said the multi-letter, multi-number product name incorrectly. I got all kinds of nervous and generally gave the worst audition of my life. The casting lady was super-nice about it and gave me a second chance, which was also awful. By the time she said, "cut", for my audition tape, all I could do was smile at her sheepishly and say, "I'm sorry." She smiled and said not to worry about it. She said she would tell our fancy friend that she finally got to meet me. Great... I hope she doesn't tell him how utterly dreadful my audition was. Blerg.

It's a Boy!

Last Thursday's audition went well. I did not get the part, but I did get in front of the casting folks for the new ABC television series My Generation which films in my hometown. This is a win-win situation that I didn't get the part actually, because if I had gotten the part, I would have to act like I was having a baby (one of the male leads for the show). I've never given birth to a baby, but the casting ladies said I did a great job in my audition. I hope that now that they have met me, they will remember me when a part comes along that I might be good for that does NOT involve me acting like I'm giving birth.

Positive Energy

I don't like to jinx things. Loyal readers, please send me happy thoughts Thursday around 1:00 PM Central Time. I have an audition. It's not for a commercial. I'll divulge more after the audition.

I'm also just emerging from a miserable stomach bug. Ugh. I'm gonna get lots of rest Wednesday while I prepare for the audition.

I want to take a second and wish all of you well in your endeavors! Break a leg! Best wishes! Go get 'em, Tiger! Whether you're job-hunting (Ms. J), auditioning, pitching a big proposal or have an adult league kickball game (Ms. R), I hope it goes well and you have some fun in the process or at least gain some interesting anecdotes.

Group hug! No? Maybe next time.

Finally!

I've broken the infinite loop of annoyance in regards to the casting website! It took quite a bit of sleuthing on my part to unravel the tangled misdirections. Luckily, I have lots of experience playing the detective in those dinner mystery shows I do.

The very nice casting director misspelled my last name when adding me to the website. Even though I corrected the misspelling, my name did not appear correctly. I had to create a whole new account with the correct spelling.

My agency sent me their code for the website in all lower-case letters. The code did not work. After several frustrating attempts to log on to the website, I tried the code in all capital letters. Success! Access granted!

Creating the new account, updating my résumé and uploading photos took about three hours. Troubleshooting this whole mess of where my account disappeared to and why the website would not admit me took four hours and many, many curse words.

Anyone who says that acting is not work is a misinformed fool.

Caught in an Infinite Loop of Annoyance

Last week I received a strongly worded email from my agent reprimanding those of us who have not signed up for a certain casting website service, and further reprimanding those of us who have signed up for the service for not adding photos to our profiles. A casting director created an account for me on this website service many months ago. I updated my profile and size information as directed by an email from the service. I thought that everything was fine.

My agency wants all of the talent to also upload photos and résumés to this casting website. The email from my agency insists that it's easy to add these items and that each person must take care of this for themselves.

However, the casting website says that our talent agent should create our accounts and upload our photos. Also, the agent code that my agency gave me (after I emailed them to ask for help) to log into the website does not work.

So my agency says I have to update my materials for the website for myself. The website says that my agent has to update my materials for me.

I'm annoyed: at myself for surely missing something obvious here; at my agency for not providing clear, step-by-step instructions on how to create the accounts for this website service; at the website architects for not making the website more user-friendly. There is no section on the website for "help" or "frequently asked questions".

I saved the original email from the website service that links to my profile information. I followed the link again, and there is no spot or further link for me to add photos or résumé to my profile. I simply get a dead-end message that thanks me for updating my profile.

Holiday Weekend? Too bad.

Saturday morning I received an email from my agent that I need to tape myself doing an audition and email it. I ignored the email because it is a holiday weekend. I'll get to it Monday. Also, if I get the part (which I won't) I'll have to go to another state to film the commercial - a state not known for their tourist trade.

When taping auditions, I need someone else to operate the camera, good natural light, absolute silence on this busy street on which I live, absolute silence from my pets, a monochromatic backdrop that is not lighter than my skin tone. I have to slate before and after my lines. Then I beg my husband to help me upload and send the video in the proper format. This all takes time, not to mention the time it takes me to put together the right outfit, fix my unruly hair and apply makeup enough that my features show up on the consumer grade video, but not so much that I look like a Vegas showgirl.

I hope my hardworking agent, who had to take time out of her holiday weekend to email me, understands when she doesn't get my video until Monday afternoon.