There was a callback for a production of Ordinary Days, and I prepared the CRAP outa that audition. PRE-PARED. I knew the song cold. I knew my point of view. I was ready to live this experience.

I did my thing. The director even let out a “Wow” when I finished.

I didn’t book that job.

But I remember that audition, and it’s a satisfying memory.

I also remember a callback for a production of Fiddler on the Roof. Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick were in the room. I started my work, and when the director gave me adjustments, I became the amazing shrinking actor.

Am I going to get this right?

How do I get them to pick me?

I’d already thought up my opening night cards and everything — a picture of me playing Tevye in the 1996 Mt. Airy High School spring musical. (Sounds crazy, no?)

I didn’t get that job, either.

I can still hear my agent delivering the feedback afterward, “They said you just got smaller and smaller.”

What did that mean? Talk louder? More gestuuuures?

Now I have a clearer idea what probably happened.

(After many years of getting the note in tech rehearsals — “Dan, look up, we’re losing your eyes,” I have a clue.)

I wanted to hide and be seen at the same time. 

Auditioning is hard. You go in there after investing hours and dollars into preparation, throw your guts on the floor, and then the teachery people tell you just to leave it in the room. (Or on the self-tape. That one’s even harder.)

As I survey the times I shrank back, I see 3 things behind it all: 

1. I wanted one of the table folk to give me my you-belong-here card.

2. I thought I needed a you-belong-here card.

3. And I believed what I wanted couldn’t be available to me. Because see number 1.

I loved what I did, and I wanted to do it on big stages. And I was using my career as a mechanism to tell me I was all right after all.

If I got picked, that must mean something, right?

And here’s the irony. 

I’d already picked myself. I was already paying NYC rent, taking that subway to midtown, in the room singing the song.

But, the moment I walked in the door, I decided to un-pick myself and plop that responsibility in somebody else’s lap.

It’s like you invited me to dinner and asked me to bring the salad.

I say, “Great! My salad game is legend.”

Then, I show up at your house and ask, “Where do you keep your croutons? Wait, you only have iceberg?”

Same for you. You already decided that your life needs to include singing about your innermost thoughts and feelings in a narrative construct.

So, now your responsibility is to make sure you put together your proprietary blend of fresh greens, crunch, savory with sweet surprise, and get your dressing ratios right.

Slap that in a big bowl, and BYO utensils because you’re fixing to mix that UP when you get to the audition.

(And I always advocate for quality dijon and mayo in the dressing. Secret weapon? Maple syrup.)

You’re prepped for the party. Whether it’s an appointment or an open call, you’re invited. You belong there. Get in there and serve it up. 

Because there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.

Love much,

Dan

PS That audition for Ordinary Days that I didn’t book? I look back on that with satisfaction because I was fully and deeply prepared. I did my work that day. And I’m committed to doing the same in every audition I have from now on.

I had the privilege of talking with Merri Sugarman from Tara Rubin Casting last week, and one of the things she returned to many times was this— 

The only thing we have as actors is our preparation — the excellence of our work and choosing to open our hearts. Leaving the room saying, “Yep, I’d gladly pay the ticket price to see what just did in there.”

If you haven’t grabbed it, her book From Craft to Career: A Casting Director’s Guide for the Actor is full of practical insight.

If you do what she says in there, things will change. 

Here are the links to check out our conversation. I’m still digesting all we talked about. I promise if you listen and do what she says, you’ll see growth in your career.

Part 1:
How has casting changed since 2020? 
changes in audition procedures.
What does preparation mean?
One primary mistake actors make in the room.

Part 2:
How little moments turn into consequential trajectory changers
Trusting your nudges
What Merri sang when she booked Les Mis
All about follow up

Part 3:
Practical simple and straightforward things you can always do
Reality check on your skills, being real with yourself
watching people grow through the audition process
some tough truths that’ll set you free