Open Letter to Clay Smith

Dear Clay Smith,
Have you ever been presented with a moment in which the one thing you did NOT want to do is make a fool of yourself, and then you do precisely that? In a room full of crazy people, at the very least you want to be perceived of as sane. But the demon grabs you and you babble like a fool anyway. I am done. I know, I’ve said that before. But this time I mean it! I will never attend another seminar to meet a casting director or agent. Unless you are so unique as to be a freak of nature, it is a complete waste of time. Unless you do “something special”, like… you are fluent in Swahili, or you are a sword swallower, or you can speak Swahili WHILE swallowing a sword… you have a better chance of winning the Powerball than getting representation or an audition from a casting director in New York. So I am sorry, Clay Smith. I wanted to impress you. I wanted you to see me at the seminar tonight and say to yourself, “I remember her! Her audition monologue was wonderful. Why didn’t I call her in? Why haven’t I signed her? I saw her video, the one I ASKED her to send me, and I loved it!” But I balked… and I babbled like a fool.