Long term readers will know that I have a bit of a tendency towards gloom, with more than a smattering of self-pity.  I've tried quite hard of late to keep such matters off the blog, because in retrospect they're often embarrassing, and they certainly rarely achieve their rather misguided aim, of acquiring the sympathy of others.

Today, however, I find myself in the pleasant position of posting an article of entirely the opposite colour.

When I first started my attempt at professional acting, I adopted a mantra, "if in doubt, do the scary thing."  Where it came from, in those exact words, I'm not sure - it may have been my own, or it may have been borrowed from one of my very wise and dear friends.  Either way, it's proved an excellent rule of thumb for life.

Well.  A week ago, I had a message out of the blue on CastingCall from the writer and director of a show being produced throughout August, inviting me to audition.  Good for the ego in itself.  I was slightly surprised, as it was a musical comedy, set in New Orleans, and my singing and dancing skills are not something I make much of on my CV (for very good reasons!) - nor do I list an American accent among my skills.  However, I've usually made it a rule that, if someone actually invites me to audition, I will usually go, even if I don't think the show is really "me."
So on Tuesday I went.  Had a very nice chatty time with Sarah, whose show it is, did my monologue, sang Poisoning Pigeons - not awfully well, I fear, but tolerably.  Felt pleased with myself for having done it, but came away fairly comfortably certain that I wouldn't hear anything.

On Thursday evening, I had the call.  I was cast if I wanted the part.  Never has there been a more instant and complete panic.  Flattered to be cast (immensely flattered), balancing that against the knowledge that the company were already a week into rehearsals, so for me to be cast this late had certain... implications...  terror at the thought of diving into musical theatre, with only "adequate" singing and dancing skills; desperate worry at whether I could/should even consider two weeks of rehearsal instead of earning money, when I'm already teetering on the brink of financial ruin; above all awareness that the opening night would be on my Mother's 80th birthday, and that I would therefore inevitably be spending far less time with her that week than I would have liked to.  But...  I'd been complaining for ages about needing more stage work; the company seemed very strong on marketing and promotion, and there was much mention made of inviting casting directors and agents, etc.

I asked Sarah if I could have a little think, and let her know in the morning.  She very kindly agreed.  I didn't sleep much that night, being full of terror and panic and worry.  Dragged myself into work.  It was really only during the last few minutes of my walk to work, that anything started to click.  Maybe it was the sunshine that shifted my mood, but I had a moment where it suddenly seemed possible to make a choice, rather than just immersing myself in panic.
So I chose the scary thing. 
Texted Sarah before I could change my mind.

That was yesterday.  I spent last night doing my first work on the script, preparing a small monologue on the character's background.  That little ritual of sitting with a script in front of me, a fresh, sharp pencil in my hand, a pack of brand new highlighters on the desk, scribbling notes about a fictional stranger's life, gave me an amazing clarity of mind, that I haven't had for months.  Wonderful.
Today was my first rehearsal.  The scary thing has paid off.  A lovely, lovely bunch of people, this cast.  I haven't laughed as much since (as the old saying goes) Granny got her left tit caught in the mangle.  Much work to be done - my American accent is still woeful, and the testing times of the singing and dancing are still ahead of me, but, on the whole,  an object lesson.  I came away from rehearsal in a lovely warm euphoric glow.

Happy.

This is the show, by the way.  Doesn't sound like my sort of thing, does it?  I didn't think so either.  I was wrong about that, too :)