Everybody knows I want to be an actress, so obviously I spend as much time as I can in plays. A lot of people also know I tend to be a pessimist, so I never expect these plays to end up well. There was one time recently where I was particularly wrong about this. It all started in the first week of September. I arrived to the auditions really nervous, and with butterflies in my stomach. I had hoped at least a few people there I would know, but nope. Every single person there was a complete stranger to me, but not to each other. They all sat in groups chatting until the audition process actually began. I sat down by myself and watched as everyone delivered his or her monologues and songs. The butterflies just got worse- everyone was really good. Soon they called my name, and I stood up to deliver my twominute monologue (it was about alarm clocks) then hurriedly rush through whatever song I had decided on at the last minute, after getting nervous and worrying the song I had carefully prepared would sound stupid. A few people complemented me on the monologue afterwards, but the butterflies weren’t completely gone until the next week, when they announced the parts. I walked into the room, ready to receive my script- which I knew I would soon lose, and my part- which I thought I would soon hate. I was not very confident, everyone else in the cast just seemed so much better at the auditions then I had. They handed out our scripts, and then read out the list of who played whom. Eventually the director Kippy got to “Rae Bell: Edith Twitwell” Edith. That didn’t sound so bad. At least I had a name, not orphan #5 like some of the other actors- who by the way still hadn’t started to be less intimidating to me. The orphans only had one line each, but I flipped through the script, and I had quite a few lines. As we read through the play, I noticed that nobody really had a lot of lines, so I actually was a pretty big part. The play was also pretty good, which I was happy about. I was used to my camp plays which; to put it nicely… were terrible. As the rehearsal process began, I started to learn my lines,
songs and dances, and even better, started to make friends. Everybody in the cast was really nice, and pretty soon I was as close with them as I was with my school friends. As soon as this started happening, rehearsals became 10 times better, as I spent my offstage time laughing, having temple run tournaments, telling funny stories, and parodying the songs from the musical. Soon it was time for production week. In theater, the week before the play is called production week. For Where There’s A Will, its when we got costumes and props, and began to rehearse with a band, and generally rehearse. A LOT. Every day, we had rehearsal. Every day, all day. While I loved getting to hang out with my friends, who I usually only really saw on Wednesday, I don’t think I had time to do a single piece of homework all week. The play was going very nicely, at the start of the week nobody really knew any of their lines- the consequences of only having a few hour of rehearsal each week, – but at the end of the week it was as good as a real professional play, and it got even better once we got costumes. The play took place in the seventies, so the bright patterns and hippy headbands really brought out everyone’s character. The lines were remembered, the dances weren’t stumbled over, and every note was hit. Soon it was time for opening night. I wasn’t really that nervous, I was confident I would remember my lines, but some people weren’t so sure of themselves. A few of my friends were terrified, and were even shaking as we ran through our warm ups. Soon we had to go downstairs, the theatre was starting to fill up with people. I stood backstage with my make up and my costume on, waiting. “you ca-a-ant trust family.” That was my cue! I walked onstage.