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Several weeks ago, after a successful class show, I was invited to try out for the national touring wing of a wonderful improv company. A few weeks later, I was notified that I had been called back for a second and final audition.
The callback was earlier this week. I thought it went well, but everyone I was called back with was terrific, and they can't hire everyone, so I guess it will come down to who fits best with what they are looking for—factors I can't guess and can't control.
But all of this is actually backstory to what I actually want to write about, which is an audition I went to the day before my improv callback. I went primarily, in fact, to blow off nervous energy in the hope that I would be able to focus better on the callback the following day. But the morning of the audition, I decided to cancel.
It wasn't that I didn't want the part. It was a good part in a fine play, produced by an old and distinguished theater company. But I didn't feel prepared—this would be my first theatrical audition in 30 years; I hadn't spent enough time on my monologue; I wasn't feeling well and needed to save my energy for the improv callback, etc, etc.
As I was emailing a friend all the reasons I had decided not to go, I realized that these were not reasons; they were excuses. I was scared. For good reason—I was rusty, to say the least, and intimidated by the illustrious history of this theater. I told myself that wasn't good enough, I had to jump back in sometime, so I marshaled myself and went.
Yesterday I learned that I have the part. Rehearsals start on Sunday.
I made Ben read the email and confirm that this was what it said, because I kept thinking I was reading it wrong.
This is a wonderful thing.
I am in a complete panic.
