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.

Sincerely,

Brooke Spivey

PS.

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

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acting

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.

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dreams, fantasies

My five or ten year plan. Fantasy included.

I’ve always hated that dreaded question, where do you see yourself in five years? I mean doesn’t everyone hate that question? Even in high school I did everything to avoid it. Once for an economics class we had to make a poster of where we saw  ourselves in 10 (or 20 I can’t remember) years. Every single person in class brought a poster with varying photos of  houses, cars, money, children, etc..Except me. I painted a green cardboard poster with the Japanese symbol for peace (or happiness, again, I can’t remember) and I filled in the symbol with different successes I would like to have by then, like self-awareness, enlightenment (I was at least an over achiever), contentment, love, friendships, etc. But nowhere on my poster did I put any photos or ideas for an actual plan. I remember at the time that I simply refused to, and I said that the ideas on the poster represented  my plan of where I wanted to be in the future. Of course I got a 100 because it was brilliant, and no one else thought of it.

But no one questioned me about it. I’m sure they all thought that it was because I was the artsy weird girl in class. After all, the school I went to was very southern and traditional. And a lot of them have acquired what was on their posters.Which is great for them.  But I wanted my goals to be different than that. And I wanted someone to question me so I could rant about how  my poster represented the important things in life, and not materialistic ones.

But really, someone should have just called me on my bullshit.

I didn’t make my poster like everybody else because I didn’t know what to put on it, and I didn’t want to think about it! And I can’t believe it, but I’m still like that. Some say you will never get what you want unless you tell the universe exactly what you want. I think this is so wrong. It’s awesome in theory, but it’s kind of egotistical.

1.) By saying you have the power to make the universe align with your wishes simply because you know what they are is  ridiculous because that’s like saying hey universe, I know you’ve been here for billions of years, but this is what I need for you to make happen for me. 2.) I think the best part of finding out what you truly want is by discovering it along the way.

And I still do want all of those things that I put on my poster. I would rather have love and friendships than anything else. That must be why I can never finish a vision board. Something in me will not let me do it. My insides are like, wait, just be surprised.

On the other hand, I can tell you things I would love to do with my career! But it’s because I don’t have to have an exact plan for them. I just know some steps that I should be working on to get there, but I don’t have to stress about it. I can try for them, but if I don’t create my own hilarious TV show or work with Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill,  and James Franco anytime soon, then it’s not the end of the world.   Who cares? I can  still be happy! (if i force myself)

Then there are things that the little girl inside of me is too shy to admit to want. Like my lifelong desire to actually write and direct movies like Quentin Tarrentino.

But the things I’ve been thinking about lately, the fantasy that I’ve conjured up in my head of the perfect way to spend my time if I could live any way I wished, would be to live  for the fuzzy memoried nights filled with art and conversation; the nights that I would be  surrounded by kindred spirits. Our lives co-mingling in a plane of existence that made us feel like we were truly living in the moment, and that moment mattered the most.

The nights that, although filled with hazy memories,  photographic evidence would later prove that we lived as true artists and wore hats only true artists can wear and whose layered bohemian attire was fashioned not from style, but from necessity, showcasing our ingenuity, originality, and creative spirits. Wine bottles would never be far from our lips; books of literature never far from our hands, and  the ideals of the Lost Generation never far from our minds.

We’d live like the 60’s, dress like the 20’s, and play music from all times.

We’d write parts for ourselves we always wanted to play. We’d recreate the roles we missed out on by being born too late, and we’d  find perfect lovers who would hurt us in all the right ways and leave us, inflicted with the type of emotional pain that one never truly recovers from. Like Hemingway and his nurse, we’ll be forced to learn that some heartbreaks simply become a part of who we are. Scars etched right beneath the surface, staining a once unblemished surface.

Some days the bleak, gray sky would beam in through the windows and sitting at the table we would look like Chekhovian characters. While other days we would look like an imitation of  an absurd dada performance,  complete with nonsensical dialogue.

The worlds we would live in would blur the lines of reality, fiction, sanity, and surrealism.

A fantasy complete with illusions and trickery of the mind, that, like a dream, is not possible to remain both conscious in and lucid for very long.

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