acting, talent agency

Fantasy Cover Letter

Sorry, it’s been awhile. Not like anyone reads this though, so I don’t think it matters. I’ve been thinking lately about my quest of getting an agent. I can’t say I’ve tried THHHAAAAT hard. But I have submitted multiple times to agencies that I want. However, I haven’t been very successful. I went through a phase where I thought I’d fight the system and not have an agent. But honestly, I don’t think I’m enough of a “go getter” to do that. I do not work well on my own, and I am not self-motivated.

One of the problems I incur while trying to get an agent (besides never having enough money for those workshops) is the cover letter. I always feel so phony. And if I try to add in my personality I think it sounds ridiculous and like I’m trying too hard. I am not a very professional person. Never have been, don’t intend to start. And I don’t know how to write a cover letter to an agent that reflects me and my attributes. I like to go against the grain. But I think there are plenty of roles that also go against the grain. So, here is what I would love to say in a cover letter but probably never will because its completely and utterly unprofessional and “wrong”.

Dear Wannabe Agency,

Hi, my name is Brooke Spivey, and I am a local actor here in Atlanta. I’ve been trying to break into the Atlanta acting scene since I moved here, after college in 2011. I went to Auburn University for theatre where I received a BFA in performing arts.Since moving here, I have been involved with the ISP cast at Whole World Theatre. You can catch a show I’m in on the first Thursday of every month.

Since moving to Atlanta I’ve been involved with Whole World. I’ve also taken a few classes and workshops. But the main thing I’ve learned is the art of living. How to get by when you can’t get by. I’ve spent the majority of my time trying to get a “day job” that will be sustainable. I’ve learned a lot from this experience. Mainly that I hate day jobs. But also that I’m devoted to this whole acting career. You probably haven’t seen me at any workshops, and you’ve probably not heard my name from anyone (unless you secretly hang out at Whole World), but I’m a damn good asset to have on your register. I’m unique. And quirky. And weird. And you never know what you are gonna get. I guess you could say I’m a wild card.  I’m not in it for my career. I’m in it for my livelihood. And for that, I’d say I’m a pretty good candidate. I like people. I like connecting with people, and I like making people feel. And for the most part, I’d say I’m real and genuine.  I hope you’ll give me a chance.


Brooke Spivey


Full disclosure: Sometimes I  do things just because they’re funny.


Oscar Madness One Year Late

I wrote this last year. I never posted it. I am now.


Lately I’ve been feeling this pressure in my life, like I’m not doing enough, like its time for me to saddle up and get a day job with health benefits. After all i am an adult now.

But ive also been feeling this creative pull to start doing every kind of creative whim i have. and i have this theory that following your heart will get you wear you need to go. I’ve never been one for doing things the right way, whatever that means. if anything i like to do the opposite of everyone and I’ve never understood the vast majority doing the same thing. why would i want to get off work at 5 pm when that’s traffic hour.

lately i have been dealing with some serious loneliness issues, so I’ve decided to not only follow all of my creative whims, but I’m also going to force myself to go do things and be around people, even if i have to do it alone.

so last sunday when it was the oscars i decided to go to a theatre to watch a screening of it. it was free and on the big screen. i got there, found a seat in the balcony and was just beginning to enjoy myself when a loud drunk group sat behind me with pizza. i dont know where they got pizza, but their loud, drunk rowdiness and overwhelming smell of pizza really put a damper on my oscar viewing experience. so much so that i had to go buy popcorn to quiet my rumbling tummy. i was really beginning to regret my decision in going as it was making me feel more lonely and sad being there alone. when i stumbled into what would appear to be the 1920s. I went to find a bathroom, and instead must have stumbled into a loop in time, because the room in front of me was a 1920s lounge complete with 1920s bartender and  mint juleps.

the people inside were dressed to the nines but friendly. i knew i had found the right place. i spent the rest of the time socializing and feeling human again. and then i found out that every thursday night they had an open mic night, and there was a piano that could be played

as i left that night i vouched i would be back on thursday.

so on thursday night i found myself sitting nervously awaiting my turn to play. everyone was so much more professional than i expected. i started to doubt why i had even come. my little songs were mere experiments compared to this symphony  of sounds.

so instead of walking out as i strongly desired, i drank two beers and played my songs. by the time i played, the audience was mostly loud and drinking. i think only one person actually listened, but sitting up there, playing the piano and singing to myself, i felt like the piano man, half ignored but knowing that this is my contribution. offering up myself, my vulnerability an unnoticed gift in the room.. and you know what? it felt great. it felt like i was alive, like i was really living the struggle that we call life. solitary moments felt in the noise of a pleasantly ungrateful crowd. but i am grateful. to be. to contribute. to bare witness. as artists this is what we must do. this is who we are.

I used to do more creative things, before I was told no. I used to have less boundaries because I knew no better. Rules that I’ve placed upon myself have been created from failures. I think it’s time for me to get out of the box and do things the wrong way again. I want to get a little messy and uncomfortable.