If I knew then what I know now

September sees the fresh faced arrivals at many drama schools and colleges throughout the UK and means that the streets of Covent Garden are adorned with the latest intake of students at the Royal Ballet school. None of which is a bad thing of course.

What is worth pointing out to the same drama students though is that although the quality of teaching that they may have might well vary a little from institution to institution, they industry may well regard those venues (and their teaching) as vastly different. As I'm sure you've all been told before, Life isn't fair. Deal with it.

I was sitting and thinking about what I wish I knew when I started my training at City Lit? What would have made my life, not easier per se, more perhaps productive? What traps I could potentially avoid I guess.

The short answer is that I wish I realised that I had one mouth, two ears, and sometimes only half a brain. I admit that I was one of those students who needed to understand the reason behind the exercise that the teacher was putting us through. If, as often was the case, I didn't grasp the point of the exercise then I would spend a huge amount of energy trying to fathom it out rather than just getting on with it and seeing what followed.

My end of term reports often intimated that I was being too analytical and too cerebral and that I needed to not fear the visceral response sometimes. What crystallised the lesson for me was when a teacher, the immensely talented and hugely patient Jonathan Dawes, took me to one side and said "Imagine you're standing on a kerb or a wall. Balance right on the edge of it. Allow yourself to fall and deliver your lines in that moment of uncertainty and freedom." To this day I often find myself taking a character I've got trouble finding and, using bits of dialogue, I go and balance on the steps by the Renoir cinema and I play. Just play. With the words, the meaning, the timing. In that play I find a huge release of my own expectations and preconceived ideas about the character. As I topple forward, or backward if standing that way, off the kerb my instinct kicks in and my focus is not on me, or the character. I cease to exist. My attention is on the fall. The journey if you like. And in those moments the first glimpses of a character can sometimes be seen.

It's worth saying that Drama School, any Drama School, will be the most supportive, inclusive, welcoming, safe space for you to learn your craft in. So don't get caught up in petty squabbles between students and especially not between students and staff! You may or may not wish to include 'Romances' in the category of 'Petty Squabbles'.

Having seen relationships blossom and die between students in the same acting class I would suggest that although a dalliance might well be fun, be aware that if the relationship sours you may well have two and a half years of having to sit in the same room with, and reveal the deepest darkest secrets of your soul to, someone who you previously adored but now wouldn't pee on if they were on fire. Needless to say this added frisson can bring a useful element to some examples of scene work but may well interfere with others.
Let's not forget that the relationship may well have an impact on others in your class too. It may be that you and your partner want to work almost exclusively with each other on scenes too. But that would limit the learning that you both have ultimately.

We learn by being exposed to other actors. If we repeatedly, and misguidedly, seek to work with only someone we love, or even just 'fancy' in some cases, then we are limiting our own experiences. It is an actors  job to seek out new experiences and to challenge ourselves by, perhaps, working with the people we feel least inclined to work with. After all once you've left the safe environs of the drama school you will inevitably be faced with the situation one day of turning up to the first day of auditions and finding someone standing there you really would rather wasn't. If you don't have that experience of working with all sorts whilst at college you may find that you are thrown when the cast doesn't all gel perhaps. Even if they don't, and sometimes even with the best will of all concerned they just don't, you still have a show to perform so you have to behave professionally and in a civil manner. At least until the final curtain falls on the run.

To sum up this post, drama training should be fun. A play is called a 'Play' for a reason after all, so play. Play with character, with emotion, I would say play with yourself but I fear that may be misconstrued.

Be aware though that the start of training is precisely that. I loved my time at City Lit and I learnt loads. I also now know that I've learnt infinitely more about the business since graduating than I did in my time there.

Most drama schools seem to skirt around the 'Business' side of the business so I want to say a few words about that but I think that'll have to come in the next post.

Things are afoot in the land of Actorvist

As some of you, primarily those of you who follow me on Twitter, already know I've not been my usual self recently. I've been battling with a long drawn out period of depression which is somewhat at odds with my creative urges.

The depression not withstanding I've appeared in two plays this year and played a part in two feature films, one a very large budget, high profile franchise and the other a much more modest affair. I've also been thinking about writing a couple of ideas that have been bubbling away in my head for a while.

Well, whilst I've been doing all the above I've resorted to comfort eating.

My depression, when it descends upon me, makes me switch off from delicate little pleasures that one often can find in subtle flavoured foods and seek solace in the huge highs of sugary, or overly spicy, or savory foods. It's like my brain cries out for some kind of stimulation whereas my body needs no energy as I'm not really able to do anything but just function.

So, as I have been known to consume a whole M&S cheesecake in one sitting at times over these past six months I've inevitably put on a few extra pounds. Pounds that I am now determined to drop.

I know that this is nothing to do with acting per se but it is to do with this actor and as such I think it's important to share the highs and lows on here with you all. I stress that I am not looking for sympathy. If anything that would be counter productive, but I ask for your understanding if I am quiet at times, seemingly withdrawn perhaps. Trust me when I say my mind is working overtime analysing the minutia of what's going on around me and probably, misguidedly I admit, leaping to conclusions about who it impacts me.

Depression is not something I would ever trade in for anything else. It's a part of me and it is one I value. Usually it means that something I am doing is not in my best interests even though it seems like it is. It's a yardstick if you like. One to measure my own progress through Life against. OK so it can derail me from time to time but it is valuable and it does give me insight. The slow discovery of what is fundamentally against my own self interest, be it professionally or personally, might well take months but discover it I inevitably do. And this time it's taken almost a year I think but I have slowly had the realisation dawn on me that I am not supporting my acting endeavors to the best of my ability.

I have been guilty of allowing myself to become distracted by ephemera. By the idea of chasing Twitter followers perhaps, of thinking that if only that specific person came on board that specific project that I am involved with then I would suddenly be catapulted into the limelight. I've come to realise and to accept that the person responsible for how my career progresses is me. Just me. It's me that decides what roles to take. It's me that decides if I am prepared to work for nothing other than vague promises of future roles. It's me that has to schedule my time to allow further study and growth. Me. Nobody else. It is also a relatively recent discovery that it is only me that I have to satisfy. I don't have to fret about when I will perform in a "proper theatre" as my parents ask on a weekly basis. Nor do I have to worry about when my name will be above the title of a movie poster on huge billboards.

This is not a sprint. I may well be 45 years old but the time I spent as an economist before becoming an actor is not an impediment that has to be fought against. If anything it's a strength. I do not have to race to being acclaimed a rising star or anything of the sort. All I need to do is to continue to train, continue to stretch myself and above all else continue to remember that I love this business. I love the doubts and fears on stage. I love the camaraderie on a film set. The pressure of the rehearsal room. The tick, tick, tick on a film set when the light is fading and the DoP really doesn't have time to reset the lights to give more time to get the shot before the day wraps. I love it all.

Accepting that I do, and that that really is enough seems to quieten the voice that psychologists call the "Critical Parent" that lies within me as it does with in us all. That voice that says you're not working hard enough. Or suggests that if you haven't written your long awaited screenplay by now you never will. Or calls you fat. Well frankly that voice can go take a long walk off a short pier. I enjoy acting. I enjoy writing. And that's enough.

I know I'm rambling here (as I always do I hear you say!) and I want to wrap up soon so all I will say is that I am lucky. I know I am. I'm lucky enough to have had a greatly rewarding career before I turned to acting and I'm luckier still to have found a second one to follow. I have a great support network of family and friends. The person who hasn't been 100% supportive of me has recently been me. And that has now changed so be prepared to see a change in the me that you meet. I have silenced my own critical parent.

Onwards and upwards! And always, always, remembering how lucky I am.

I forgot to say how helpful one little book has been. And that book is this one... Sunbathing in the Rain by Gwyneth Lewis. It's a remarkable telling of her own journey through depression and out the other side.

Should I stay or should I go?

Hunting around for a topic to write about is sometimes easy and sometimes not. A bit like Life really. Especially when that life belongs to an actor.

So, being a generous soul, and not being able to think of something to write myself, I donned the cloak of generousity and asked the Twittersphere what topic(s) they would like me to write about on here.

After strenuously examining the vast number of reply I had (thanks Rhonda! Glad to know someone reads this!) I thought I would deal with the most popular topic that cropped up. Once.

The single reply to my offer read as follows:

How about a piece dealing with Office Politics during a project? Possibly emphasizing (she's American so she's allowed to spell like that) how to handle your work when the project is a kind of disaster and everybody is grumbling and complaining.

When do you leave?

How do you make that decision?

Why should you stay?

OK, how do you deal with office politics in a production, which doesn't have an "office" but a rehearsal room which can be fraught and tense, and exhausting. And then shifts to a stage which can be a whole myriad of things all at once?

When all about you moan and whinge what do you do? What do I do?

I'm always honest here and I've no reason to change that. Also I only ever write about my own experiences as that it what I have to draw on in my life and it's that life that, at times, has meant I've had to deal with awkward decisions. But as to how you deal with office politics in a production there is one rule. And for me it's an absolute. And that rule is don't get drawn in to petty political squabbles in a production.

It's fine to offer an opinion when it's requested by the director, or even when another actor asks for help but avoid at all costs getting into the You're Right/Wrong type of arguments where you have to take sides. Be diplomatic.

Says I. Who in one of the first productions I was found myself in a nonsense of a production. A director without a clear vision. Without the ability to explain to the cast and crew the essence of his vision without saying "It's all in my head. I'll know when it's right".

This same director regularly would turn up late, sometimes by as much as 3 hours or more, to a 6 hour rehearsal. And then he would explode at the cast and crew for not being "on it" immediately when he arrived. He would undercut the choreographer at every opportunity, mainly by listening to what they said, watching what they'd got us doing and then saying "that's not right. It needs to be like this...." and proceeding to rechoreograph entire routines. He would, and did, arrive in the wings two minutes before curtain up and hand a cast member a prop whilst saying helpfully "this will help your character be real" before they walked on to a stage to do a song and dance routine. Now carrying a brand new, unrehearsed, unrequired, unwarranted prop.

But that was the actual production.

Back in rehearsal cast were regularly kept waiting, as I said for hours on end, by the director who would then break every 20 mins for a smoke and a coffee and wouldn't allow us more than 15 minutes for lunch.

One cast member, a good friend of mine, left and the following day (8 days before opening night) the director arrived, about 2 hours late, and I should add the director had the only key to the rehearsal space, and gathered everyone together to publically attack the now absent cast member. Who, it must be pointed out, had left because he couldn't cope with the utter disregard the director had for the company.

I had spoken to a teacher of mine about the situation and she gave me sage advice which I still go back to today. I said to her that I was tempted to walk. She said if you've signed a contract, or even if you haven't you never walk. Be utterly businesslike and professional but never walk. Her advice dealing with the tardy director was as follows....

1. Explain why you are not happy. Clearly.
2. Set out some rules of conduct for the director.
3. And for the cast.
4. State the outcome if the director breaks the rules.
5. Be prepared to carry them out.

In this circumstance, the discontent was because the cast were regularly hanging around outside the rehearsal room for a minimum of 20 mins and a max of perhaps 150 minutes. We had no warm up time. No structured lunch breaks. No structured end times.

To deal with this it was suggested that the rehearsal rooms were open 30-45 mins before our rehearsal call times, thus allowing people to warm up ready to go for the start of the rehearsal.

Also that the director had to be there by the call time for the rehearsal. If he wasn't, I said I would wait twenty minutes and then go home as I could work better there by myself than waste time waiting for him to arrive.

Oh and we had a known schedule for breaks and for lunch. Of course we weren't going to walk out when the clock hit lunchtime if we were in the middle of something but everyone knew that about 1pm we would break for one hour for lunch. And at 11am and 3pm we would break for refreshments/smoke etc.

That way everyone knew what the rules were. From that day on the rehearsal room was open everyday 30 mins prior to the call time. The director was never late. We all had rest and felt able to go on. If someone hadn't made a stand we would have all been utterly exhausted and probably been injured during the run itself.

It's not that this is strictly to do with office politics but there is something important here and that's that although the relationship between Director and Cast can at times be fraught, and at others beautiful to behold, everyone in a company has a job to do. Just because someone has a bigger title than Actor does not mean that they can ignore the feelings and sensibilities of the cast. Nor should the cast be prepared to lay down some simple, professional, rules of conduct.

This was a Fringe production but that is not the point. Assuming that because a budget is small the process would automatically be "difficult" is wrong. I've had the utter delight of working with gifted, visionary directors on Fringe productions with minisucule budgets who never failed to show their cast utmost respect and never once allowed their professionalism to be compromised by budget restraints.

Everybody pays to be in a production. Producers pay money and stress. Cast pays in blood, sweat and tears. But when everyone treats all the others involved with respect it's amazing how much more fun it is. And how much better the final result is.

So, young actors out there, don't be scared of saying if you think something, or someone, anyone, in a position of responsibility in a Company is out of order. On the big issues obviously. Don't waste time over the small stuff. But remember it's not your job to undermine the director. It's about being professional at all times and expecting the same of all others.

Getting my claws in to making plans

I've been thinking what it is about Humankind that makes us put self generated hurdles in the way of our own success.

Something has caused me to think that, although I subscribe to the view that when we're ready for something the Universe will present it to us, sometimes when the Universe thinks we're ready we are all to quick to disagree.

Perhaps it's not the fear that we will fail but the fear that we will be successful that holds us back from trying new things until we're absolutely ready for the trials and tribulations (as well as the joys) that new experiences will bring.

Personally I'm a little guilty of, until recently, ruled out the prospect of even entertaining the idea of going on an extended theatrical tour. I've not actually said as much and I've even gladly thrown myself into the audition process for some high profile tours, but somewhere in the back of my mind has been the creeping, gnawing worry that God knows what I would do if I'd ever been lucky enough to be cast in one of them.

Being the human keeper of two cats I had, I thought, planned for the eventuality of going on tour in so much as I had lined up a variety of friends who had kindly agreed to either take the cats in as house guests or, perhaps with less disruption to themselves and the feline fellows, spend a lot of time at my home and care for the kitties there. In situ. However it's become obvious to me that this was not preparation. This was me creating an obstacle.

My thinking runs thus...

Brilliant tour job comes along:
I ace the audition naturally, and am perfect for the role;
I accept the job;
Then approach the cat keepers of choice and ask if it's all ok that they do indeed look after the furry critters.

That train of action can only have one of two outcomes. They either say Yes. Or No.

Previously I had convinced myself that I would ALWAYS be able to find someone to look after the cats and therefore I would never find myself in a position where their welfare would impact my working as an actor. It really was a wake up call this week when I realised that there are in fact people who are highly skilled in looking after cats when their owners are out of town. They are called catteries.

Now in order for me to square the whole process of putting my beloved boys in to what I at times have called a "Cat Prison" means I have to have a seismic shift in my thinking. About catteries, about what it is to "care" and about my job as an actor.

The only person responsible for my furthering my career is me. I enlist people I trust and value to help me along the way. People who I learn from (either formally like a brilliant singing teacher) or informally such as the person I see when I look in the mirror...

I know that this post is largely about cats, but if you've seen Jasper and Peluche you'd know they're not just "ordinary" cats! Still, the process of making them ready to be put in a cattery if necessary, and of making my brain accept that this is the right decision as it frees me up to do something I love, work, without punishing them as I had first thought, is a long and convoluted one. I have searched using the power of Google and have found a number of local catteries on the outskirts of London. I will go and visit any that take my fancy and I will try to determine their suitability to care for my precious pussycats.

Although I am not planning on putting them in a cattery in the immediate future, and I know that I will shed a tear when I do so for the first time, I have to be ready so that when that offer of a 3 month tour on Broadway materialises (or more realistically a 3 week tour of rural Wales) I am ready and have few obstacles in my path that I have not thought about and resolved.

This business is a business and like all businesses planning is key. The old adage "Fail to plan, plan to fail" comes to mind here. But in this case it's not that I am guilty of failing to plan it is just that my plans were unrealistic and unworkable. Who am I to build my career paths on the need to have others there to give me help when, if, I need it. I am me. I am responsible for me. And mine. And my career. And I won't martyr it on the alter of long held misconceptions or unrealistic expectations of others.


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Of course if people have experience of housing their pets in a London or Home Counties cattery then please feel free to recommend or warn in the comments section!

Hold on tight. You're in for a bumpy ride.

I've been asked to post a few words of wisdom about this business aimed towards the younger, recently graduated, actor. So here they are:

1. You're lucky to be entering one of the most fun professions in the world.

2. You're unlucky to be entering one of the most frustrating professions in the world.

3. No matter how prepared you think you are for an audition/meeting/first day on set, trust me, you're not.

4. Never forget that this is a business.

5. This business is the acting business. It is not the Star & Fame business.


I don't mean to put people off becoming actors at all, because it's something that is exciting, vital, challenging and fun all at the same time and it means that I've been lucky enough to meet some remarkable people. And I hope to meet many more.

Talking to a lot of younger actors recently has made me aware that a large number of them seem reluctant to remember that this is a business. For example I was at BAFTA on Saturday just past and it was only the younger actors present who were embarrassed about having business cards and seemingly mortified at the prospect of handing them out.

Acting is a business. You are promoting yourself all the time. Every time you walk into an audition or casting, every time you are in rehearsals, on set, at a screening, a party, you are still an actor looking for his next job. Though if people think you're constantly looking to see what they can do for you then you'll get nowhere fast.

Networking, and that's what I'm talking about here, is much more about what you can do for them. Help other people make connections. Put investors and producers together. Listen out for castings that aren't for you and suggest actors for the roles. Either directly to the casting director or producer if you can or failing that then make sure that the casting is brought to the attention of the actor concerned. If you hear of a friend going in to see a casting director and you know something that may help, tell the friend. For example I know of a powerful casting director in London who seems to have a pathological dislike to coffee. And perfume. So, if you're called into see them, never wear perfume or aftershave, and if they offer you a drink, don't ask for coffee. Yes I know it's seemingly ridiculous but it's sometimes the small things that matter.

Talking of small things I turn now to business cards. Ah the minefield that is the Business Card. A few tips:

1. Don't skimp on the paper quality;

2. Have a picture (of you) on the card;

3. Put your professional name;

4. Remember your business card is public domain so think about phone numbers, email etc.

I know that some of the above seems counter intuitive but I shall explain. The paper quality, and size of the card itself, varies hugely. I've come unstuck using a very popular online card printing company whose paper stock just isn't as good as it could be. And they have non-standard card sizes which look odd. And cheap.

Why is this important? Well your business card is, literally, your calling card. If it's cheap and nasty then it doesn't suggest that you take yourself seriously as an actor. Likewise your headshot. Get a proper one done by a decent photographer who specialises in taking actors headshots. They are not the same as fashion or family portraits. And you find out who's good by asking around.

Make sure that your card has your headshot on it somewhere. When your card inevitably comes adrift from your hardcopy CV or headshot in the office of that powerful producer or casting director they'll still know exactly who you are if it's got your picture on it.

The public domain/safety issue is one that I've only just taken on board myself. My first few batches of cards listed my personal email and mobile phone number as well as those of my agent. Now I don't. I just list my name, my agent details and my spotlight number. It's enough. If any professional wants to find me they can with that information. I've already got the proofs in for the next batch and they just list my professional name and Spotlight number and nothing else though. Not even a picture. And yes I know that is a risk, and runs counter to my previous point but I'm convinced that if you think you're good enough then they will take the time to look and if they want you then they'll contact you.

Oh, about agents now. I can't tell you how many times I hear young actors lament that they haven't got an agent. How, if only they did, they'd have auditions for the Donmar/Royal Court/National Theatre/Next Big Thing on TV etc... I'm guessing that these actors think the agent's job is to get them work. Well here's a shock to the system but it really isn't the agent's job to get an actor work.

The agent, your agent, has a role which certainly touches on getting you work but that responsibility is yours alone. His (or hers) is to act as an intermediary in contract negotiations and to try to get you the best contract possible. Of course any agent worth his salt is going to be suggesting you to producers, casting directors etc and getting doors open for you, but it's your job to get the work. And to get the work you can't go easy on continuing the training that you get.

Even during the lean times, for there will be lean times, in fact especially during the lean times, do courses and classes to remain fresh. Every chance you have to sharpen your acting skills take it. Add accents to the mix. Learn a foreign language, a musical instrument, how to ride a horse, a motorbike. Something. Anything. Just learn. Widen your life experience, travel. Meet people. Talk to them but more importantly sit and listen to them. Observe. It's only by observing the minutiae of real people going about real life that we can hope to be real ourselves when we're a character.

Forgive my rambling thoughts this morning but I want to return to the agent topic a moment longer. I like, genuinely like, my agent. I enjoy being in their company. I like the sense of family that the actors on their books have. It's a big mutual support network and some of them have very rapidly become friends. I don't understand how an actor can work with an agent who they don't like, or even as someone mentioned last week, that they are scared of. The agent needs you to go out and earn or else they earn nothing. You need the agent to open doors, put you up for jobs and to negotiate contract terms for you so you both need the other. Such business relationships should be built on trust, equality, honesty. And of course it helps immensely if you actually do, genuinely, like each other.

Final two thoughts, when one job ends every actor thinks that they'll never work again so you're really not alone with that thought. And final, final thought, even with the business side, the endless rejection, the terrible pay, the doubt, worry, anxiety, etc it's still huge fun! Plays are called PLAYs. So do precisely that. Play and have fun. But hold on tight as you're definitely going to have a bumpy ride!

Train of thought... tangental

It's been a few days since my last blog entry and I've been wrestling with what purpose this blog will serve long-term (if any). It was never meant to be a day by day account of my life and my thoughts, anyway that's what Twitter is for, so that means that this space has to be reserved for bigger, more complex issues. Perhaps I will use this space to campaign against arts cuts, or maybe I'll have a space where I can enter the debate about actors, professional actors, people with years of training being expected to work for nothing other than the opportunity of working with a "really talented crew/director" or on a "really exciting" project which may, at some vague point in the future, perhaps determined by the removal of all reality shows from our screens, lead to some work on some future project.

Perhaps I'll use this space to talk about how being an actor is not all about what you do on stage or on screen but also includes the business side of things, and then maybe include the steep learning curve that that necessitates.

Maybe I'll ramble on endlessly about the quality of the paper you use to print your business cards on actually, really, being a matter of importance and then wax lyrical about the subtle off-white colouring, the tasteful thickness of it, and Oh my God, if it has a watermark.


The thought even struck me that I should perhaps mention that the "casting couch" is alive and well in London in 2011 and go into detail, without mentioning names of course, about the audition I had with a female producer of uncertain years who made it clear to me that if I wanted a big part then so did she. But I thought that might not appreciate that sort of salacious story. I even thought about taking that and running sideways with it into the minefield of delights that can be the "showmance" but then I thought long and hard about what I would write and decided I will write whatever comes into my head and make no apologies for doing so. All of which brings me to write this....

What hope is there for an actor when the casting calls that land on his desk include wonderful ones such as "man, heavy breather, white, decadent, sleazy haircut" and this comes the week after I go to a casting for "Man.. Not Albert Einstein." Seriously guys, is this really the way you want to conduct your castings? 


"Hello Easy Casting Services. How can I help you?"
"Well I'm trying to cast a project and need your help."
"Sure, what's the breakdown?"
"Man. Oh and can you make sure he isn't Albert Einstein please?"
"That it? Age? Height? Hair colour? Size? Any of that important?"
"Erm... no. No. Not really. Just make sure he isn't Albert Einstein."


How on earth can you cast something when you have no idea what it is you're looking for?


I'm not meaning to be obtuse here but I really don't understand the thought process that goes from seeing a character take shape on a page and ends up being "oh anyone who isn't Einstein". Just for the record, I'm not a virgin to the casting process as I've assisted in casting an increasing number of short and feature films. 


(I apologise for this now turning into a bit of a rant but I'm in my groove and going with the flow here!)

And whilst I'm on the subject of casting I've just come back from a play (which shall remain nameless but my review of which will appear tomorrow on a certain fringe theatre listing website) in which the casting choices were just odd. The youngest actress, playing the youngest character, was a dream. The middle one... so so... and the one playing the mother.. well.. ahem... erm... I'm reminded of the "nice buttons" review that Coward is reported to have given once to the son of a friend after his lamentable performance in a play that Coward had the misfortune to sit through. At this point I'm about to mention my mother who, when I saw her last week and after talking her through all the projects I've completed whilst she's been cruising around the seas in the some boat or other, and then going through the meetings and the various fires which currently have irons of mine in turned and said, "That's all very interesting dear but it's not real theatre is it? Or real films are they?"

According to the world my parents live in, for they are both as bad as each other sometimes, but it's just mum that says things, it's not "real" theatre unless it's within Zone 1, has tickets for sale at TKTS and garners at least a 4 star review in that most august of newspapers the Daily Mail, and similarly it is not "real" cinema unless it has posters in the Tube advertising it, Redd Pepper voicing the trailer, and preferably Colin Firth in it too.

Parents! Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. At least not until I know for sure where the will is!

Welcome to the Actorvist

This is my very first blog and my very first post within it so I'll introduce myself.

I'm an actor. Note the absence of a capital A in that word please. It means a lot to me that I am an actor and not an Actor. I'm young in mind, eager to learn and eager to share my experiences of the audition trail, the endless networking, the plethora of decent scripts that never seem to hit my desk after standing by and letting the rubbish ones through, and the ups and downs, the highs and the lows, the laughs and the inevitable tears that being at the foothills of this business bring.

I'll be honest. I'll not tell tales. And I trust you will enjoy my rambling thoughts as they unfold.