“Acting Like You Know What You're Doing (Spoiler: You Don’t)”

You ever walk into an audition room, callback, workshop, self-tape setup, or even a community theatre potluck and think:
"Wow. Everyone here knows what they’re doing… except me."

Yeah. Me too.

But here’s the secret: none of us actually know what we’re doing all the time. Some of us are just better at pretending. And that, my friends, is where the magic happens.

Whether you're memorizing lines in the parking lot, Googling “What does off-book mean again?” or doing vocal warm-ups that sound like a haunted goat, the key is simple: Fake it til' you book it.

And faking it doesn’t mean you're lying or being inauthentic. It means you're showing up. You're giving it a go. You’re brushing the Dorito crumbs off your shirt before clicking “join Zoom audition.” That’s commitment. That’s bravery. That’s borderline professional.

Here’s what I’ve learned this week:

• Confidence is contagious (even if it's caffeinated).

• Nobody remembers your weird self-tape background if you crushed the read.

• You don’t need fancy headshots to be talented. But let’s be real, they help.

• And yes, submitting yourself for a role that’s “not quite right” is still better than not submitting at all.

So if you’re out there, wondering if you belong in this industry—let me just say: you do. Your weirdness? Welcome. Your vibe? Valid. Your hustle? Inspiring.

Now go slap on that bold lip, pretend you know how to pronounce “Chekhov,” and get out there.

 Weekly Amazon Actor Must-Have: Emotional Support water bottle

Listen, hydration is a performance enhancer. You can't cry on cue if you're shriveled like a raisin. This massive water bottle comes with motivational time stamps like “Keep going!” and “Almost there!”—because who doesn’t love being yelled at by their beverage while silently rehearsing sides in a parking lot.

Hydrate and dominate—click here (referral link, obviously).

Your turn:
Have you faked your way through something lately? Got an audition horror story? A tip that works for you? Or just wanna yell into the internet void with someone who gets it?

Leave a comment below, share this post, follow the chaos, or send it to your actor bestie who needs the pep talk.

Until next time—
Fake it til’ you book it.

Confidence, Coffee, and Complaining Creatively

 Short. Sweet. And probably funnier than your last audition. This week’s post is a snack-sized pep talk seasoned with just enough sarcasm to keep you booking-adjacent and emotionally hydrated.

You ever scroll through someone’s “I just booked!” post and whisper to yourself, "Was it the vision board? The accidental manifestation? The sorcery of six headshots and a Pinterest-worthy self-tape setup?" Meanwhile, you’re over here coaching your ring light through an existential crisis and wondering if your résumé screams “Please cast me, I’m emotionally available and desperate!”

Listen. Booking a gig in this industry is a lot like online dating: half the battle is showing up without visible resentment. So this week, we're leaning into delusional optimism—our favorite performance art. Because sometimes pretending you’re booked does move the needle. I’ve flirted with entire casting offices using nothing but confidence and a well-timed Instagram story.

This Week’s Pro Tip:

If you’re not booking, brand. And if you’re not branding, nap. Because burnout never booked a commercial.

Weekly Amazon Pick:

Color Nymph All In One Makeup Kit (audition emergency makeup kit) because nothing says “I’m ready for my close-up” like concealer that covers both blemishes and existential dread. Compact, cruelty-free, and perfect for those last-minute self-tapes when your skin decides to rebel.

(Yes, it’s an affiliate link. Clicking it supports this blog and my caffeine habit. Priorities.)

Closing Curtain Call

If this made you giggle-snort or spiral in a productive way, hit that follow button like it owes you money. Share it with your equally unbooked bestie,or drop a comment with your latest rejection story—we’re collecting them like Pokémon. 🎭

Catch you next week, where we explore the artistry of pretending you’re thriving during callback season.

“Networking Without Being a Creep: Is It Possible?”

 

Networking. That word that sends actors into a cold sweat faster than “we’re going non-union.”

They say it’s all about who you know. But nobody tells you how to get to know them without coming across like you’re about to pitch them a pyramid scheme, ask to touch their aura, or slide them your résumé while they’re mid-sip of a $17 matcha.

So here we are:
Can you network without being a complete creep?
Short answer: yes.
Long answer: yes—but it takes finesse, timing, and the ability to read the room (preferably before handing someone your headshot in a bar bathroom).

Here are a few hard-won truths from the trenches:

 1. "Don’t Be Weird" is Not Enough Guidance.
Everyone says this. But what does it mean? It means don’t lead with “Hi, I follow you on Instagram and I think your dog is cute and also I printed my script on scented paper, want to read it?”
It means maybe—just maybe—don’t corner someone at the craft table to explain your five-part web series about time-traveling goats.

2. Compliment Without Groveling.
It’s cool to say, “I loved your work in X.” It’s not cool to say, “You’re the reason I breathe and I named my succulents after your characters.”
(Unless they’re really into succulents. Then maybe.)

3. Talk Like a Human, Not a Walking IMDb Page.
Instead of flexing every credit you’ve ever had, try: “What was the most fun day on that shoot?” or “How’d you get involved in this?” Be curious without being clingy. Basically, flirt without being gross. Like networking foreplay. (But fully clothed. Please.)

4. Know When to Wrap It Up.
If their eyes glaze over or they suddenly remember an "important Zoom" with no Wi-Fi in sight… you’ve lingered too long.
Say thank you, smile, and make a graceful exit—before you become that person who accidentally follows them to the parking lot.

This Week’s Amazon Recommendation:

A Portable Breath Spray That Smells Like “I Respect Boundaries”
Okay, it’s just mint, but still—essential.
Nothing ruins a solid intro like leftover craft services hummus breath. 3 Count Mint Breath Spray Mouth Spray Oral Care Breath Freshener for All Ages 0.33OZ (10ML) Mint Lemon Flavor

 Your Turn:

What’s the weirdest “networking” encounter you’ve had?
Was it someone pitching their screenplay in a hot yoga class?
Did you accidentally insult someone’s reel before realizing they were standing behind you?
Tell me everything in the comments.

 Drop a story.
 Share with your fellow actors who have trauma from “mixer events.”
 Follow for weekly pep talks, industry truth bombs, and a safe space to laugh at our collective awkwardness.

Until next time, fake the confidence, sip the Prosecco, and network like a non-creepy boss.

“No, I’m Not Auditioning for Your Love Life” (Just My Career, Thanks.)

 Hello? Is anyone out there?

Cool. Because I have a bone to pick with the entire universe of dudes who think that because I post my headshots online or share a reel, I must also be thirsting for a date with someone named Brad, Chad, or “aspiring director” Kyle.

Let me say this loud enough for the back row and the dude who slid into my DMs while I was mid-costume change:

Just because I put myself out there to showcase my talent DOES NOT mean I’m casting for a boyfriend, situationship, or your unsolicited man-opinions about “lighting and angles.”

I post a monologue → you clap, or don’t.
I post a scene → you say “great work,” or scroll.
What I don’t need is:
“Hey, you were really convincing as that grieving widow. Wanna grab coffee and trauma bond?”

Um. No.

Actors are already emotionally raw on purpose. It’s literally the gig. I don’t need extra unsolicited feelings from a dude who thinks “Meisner” is a brand of protein powder.

Let’s talk about networking, because for some people (hi, creepy Steve), it seems they skipped straight to “net-weing.”
Pro tip: just because we’re both in the industry doesn’t mean I’m interested in discussing your screenplay titled Hot Girl at the Bus Stop 2: She’s Still Hot, Now With Trauma.

And while we’re at it, I didn’t ask for dating advice either.
I’m out here trying to book roles, not consult with the local Fantasy Boyfriend Bureau on whether I “smile enough to land a leading man.”

If I wanted pickup lines, I’d be in a rom-com—not a casting call for Woman Who Can Cry on Cue and Dodge Emotional Vampires Simultaneously.

Actors are taught to be vulnerable, expressive, open. But none of that means we’re open for business in the romantic sense just because we posted a self-tape.

So, fellow creatives:
Share your work. Post your weird voiceovers. Cry on TikTok. Be your full dramatic self.
And if someone tries to turn your career into a dating app? Politely remind them:

“I’m not auditioning for your love life—I’m busy being a star.”

🎬 Roll credits. Mic drop. Exit stage left.

Now It's Your Turn, Drama Queens (and Kings):
Ever had someone mistake your reel for a dating profile? Got a cringe “networking” story that still haunts your inbox? Drop it in the comments—I live for the awkward, the absurd, and the aggressively unsolicited.

If this post made you laugh, cringe, or re-read your DMs with side-eye…
 Go ahead and share it.
 Leave a comment.
 Hit that follow button like it's your first callback.

Because around here, we fake it til’ we book it—but we never settle for “hey beautiful, you got representation?”

See you in the spotlight (not in the DMs).

This Week’s Amazon Rec:

The Third Door: The Mindset of Success

This one’s for those of us who want to build real connections, not awkward vibes and passive-aggressive follow-up texts. Alex basically sneaks his way into some of the biggest rooms in the world—not with pickup lines, but with persistence, charm, and zero creep factor. Inspiring and useful, whether you're trying to land a role, pitch a project, or just survive a mixer without punching someone.
 #BoundariesAndBooking

Hello? Is Anyone Out There? (Or Am I Just Yelling Into the Internet Void Again)

 So, quick question—hello? Is anyone out there?

Like… genuinely. Blink twice if you’re reading this. Clap if you believe in blogging fairies. Leave a breadcrumb trail in the comments if you’ve made it this far and haven’t been distracted by a TikTok of a dog playing the piano.

Because honestly? Sometimes writing a blog in 2025 feels like throwing glitter into a black hole. Yes, it’s sparkly and magical and I’m committed to the bit, but… does the glitter ever come back? Do you see the glitter? Do you appreciate the glitter??

That brings us to this week’s theme:
✨“Creating When You Feel Like No One's Watching”✨
(AKA: Channeling your inner drunk Shakespeare in an empty dive bar.)

Whether you're an actor waiting on callbacks, a writer refreshing your inbox, or someone who reorganized their spice rack alphabetically and wanted applause—this one's for you. Sometimes it feels like you're performing for a crowd that ghosted before Act I even ended. But guess what? You keep going. You fake the audience until you book the ovation. You blog into the abyss. You rehearse like Netflix is about to option your life story. Why? Because silence doesn’t mean failure. It means they’re lurking. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe just quietly stalking your brilliance while eating a bagel.

Confession Time:
I started this blog thinking it would instantly catch fire and take off like one of those “day in the life” reels—but with less latte art and more late-night spiraling. But here I am, a few posts deep, shouting “HELLO??” like I’m trapped in a haunted house of unread drafts and ghost followers. I check the analytics like it's a Magic 8 Ball:

• “Are people reading?”

• Outlook not so good.

• Should I keep going?”

• Signs point to wine.

And yet—I’m still here. Why? Because the work matters. Because your voice deserves space. Because someone, somewhere, might stumble on this blog at 2 a.m. while crying into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and say, “Same, girl.”

Also, because therapy is expensive and blogging is only emotionally draining.

Creative Dry Spells & Wi-Fi Ghosts
Let’s be real: it’s demoralizing to pour your heart into something and get zero reaction. No “likes,” no comments, not even a weird bot saying “DM for collab.” That’s how you know it’s bad—even the bots ghosted me.

But here’s the thing: you keep showing up anyway. Because it’s not really about the likes (okay, it is a little), but mostly—it’s about the doing. You’re training your creative muscles. You’re building something. You’re whispering to the universe, “I’m still here, I still want this.” And that, my friend, is badass.

This Week’s Amazon Rec:
Because even when no one’s listening, you should still look fabulous, I present:

Let That Sh*t Go: A Journal for Leaving Your Bullsh*t Behind and Creating a Happy Life (Zen as F*ck Journals)

Because sometimes the only way to move forward (creatively or otherwise) is to rage-write your feelings and then zen the hell out. This journal is like therapy, but cheaper and with way more asterisks. Perfect for letting go of self-doubt, imposter syndrome, or that one casting director who “loved your energy” but ghosted you anyway.

Conclusion:
If this post made you laugh, cringe, or whisper “same” under your breath—don’t leave me hanging in this echo chamber.

👇 Drop a comment (even if it’s just a random emoji), hit that follow button so I know you’re out there, and share this with your fellow creatives, overthinkers, or anyone currently yelling into the void with flair.

Because this blog isn’t just for me—it’s for all of us still faking it ‘til we book it... together. 💫

Why Pretending You Belong Is the First Step to Actually Belonging

 There’s this weird thing that happens when you chase a dream: You constantly feel like you’re playing dress-up in someone else’s shoes. Whether you’re walking into an audition, launching a new creative project, or even just introducing yourself as a writer/actor/artist/etc., there's a tiny voice whispering, “Who do you think you are?”

That voice is loud. But it’s also lying.

“Fake it til’ you book it” isn't about being fake. It’s about believing before the world does. It’s about choosing to show up—even when your knees shake. It’s about introducing yourself as an artist before the paycheck validates it. It's about saying "I'm a writer" even if no one's read your book yet.

Every booking, every break, every big opportunity—starts with someone deciding they were ready enough. And usually, they weren’t. They were scared. They were unsure. But they showed up anyway.

So here’s your reminder:
You don’t need permission.
You don’t need to be perfect.
You just need to be brave enough to show up.

Pretend you belong in the room—until you start believing it.
Eventually, others will too. And guess what? You’ll book it.

Keep faking it. Keep showing up. Keep saying yes before you feel ready.
Because ready is a feeling that shows up late—but only after you’ve already walked through the door.

You’ve got this.
See you on set.
Or on the page.
Or center stage.

 Wrapping It Up (Before I Spiral Again)

So there you have it. A motivational pep talk disguised as a sarcastic rant—because that’s how we cope around here.

Now it’s your turn:
Have you ever faked your way into a gig? Said “yes” to a role, then Googled “how to act natural” in the parking lot? Or maybe you’re just out here pretending to be emotionally stable on casting day (same).

Drop your favorite “I have no idea what I’m doing but look at me go” moment in the comments.
Because if we can’t laugh at ourselves, we might as well just cry into our audition blazers.

👇 Smash that comment section like it’s a callback email.
❤️ Follow for more semi-unhinged encouragement.
🔁 Share this with your favorite delusional dreamer.

Let’s keep faking it, together.
One overly confident eyebrow raise at a time.

Probably Writing This in Pajamas
Fake It Til’ You Book It

WEEKLY AMAZON REC:

This week’s must-have for the Delusional Dreamer’s Toolkit:

Mini Desk Gong

Because sometimes, words aren’t enough. Whether you just got ghosted by a casting director again, or you’re celebrating that callback you accidentally booked by blacking out in the audition room—this tiny gong says it all.

Ding it for drama. Ding it for motivation.
Or just ding it when your espresso hits.

You deserve theatrics. You are the moment.

 

The Art of Auditioning: Owning the Room Before You Even Speak

Auditioning is basically speed dating, except the person across from you holds your entire career in their hands and probably hasn’t had their coffee yet. Before you even utter a word, they’ve already decided whether you’re the second coming of Meryl Streep or just another name they’ll forget before lunch. So how do you make sure they remember you? You own the room like it’s your personal stage. Here’s how:

 

1. Enter Like You’re the Lead in a Biopic

Your audition starts the second you walk through that door. Don’t slink in like you accidentally stumbled into a board meeting. Walk in like you were sent by central casting to be “Confident Actor #1.” Stand tall. Shoulders back. No weird hesitations or apologetic shuffling. You belong here, even if your brain is screaming otherwise.

2. Your Energy Is Your Resume

Look, you don’t need to radiate Tom Cruise intensity (unless, of course, that’s your thing), but you do need to bring an energy that makes people pay attention. If you show up looking like you just got hit by a rogue existential crisis, casting directors will notice—just not in a good way. Even if you’re internally spiraling, fake the effortless charisma. It’s cheaper than therapy.

3. Eye Contact: Use It, But Don’t Terrify People

Confidence isn’t staring at someone like you’re trying to hypnotize them. It’s engagement, a casual yet intentional connection that says, Yes, I am here, I am fabulous, and you’re going to remember me. Find a balance—warm, present, but not like you're trying to steal their soul.

4. Body Language: Say It Without Saying It

Your body has its own script, and if you're slouched, fidgeting, or standing like a malfunctioning robot, you’re not selling leading-role energy. Plant your feet like you mean it. Open posture. No weird arm-crossing like you’re bracing for battle. Be comfortable in your skin, even if inside, your nervous system is plotting against you.

5. Grace Under Pressure: AKA, ‘Don’t Let Them See You Sweat’

Something will go wrong. You’ll trip over a chair. You’ll forget your line. You’ll start speaking before realizing the casting director is mid-sip in their coffee. The trick? Recover like a pro. Take a breath, reset, and never—NEVER—apologize for existing. That’s the difference between an amateur and a pro: one spirals, the other flips the mistake into a moment of brilliance.

6. Exit Like You Just Dropped the Mic

Your audition isn’t over when you say the last line—it’s over when you leave the room like a legend. No awkward hesitations. No speed-walking like you're escaping a crime scene. Just a casual, confident exit that says, You’re welcome for this moment. Leave an impression that lingers longer than that director’s burnt coffee.

Final Thoughts? Fake It. Book It. Repeat.

Owning the room isn’t about being the loudest, the flashiest, or the most obnoxious—it’s about knowing you’re worthy of being there. So, next time you walk into that audition, remind yourself: You don’t need permission to be memorable. You already are.

Now, I want to hear from you! What’s the wildest thing that’s happened to you in an audition? Ever walked in like a boss only to trip over a stray chair? Tell me your best (or worst) moments in the comments below! Let’s commiserate, laugh, and maybe even hype each other up.

If this post gave you a confidence boost (or at least made you chuckle), hit that subscribe button and join the chaos—I mean, the journey! Share this with a fellow actor who needs the reminder that they’ve got this.

See you next time, and remember: fake it ‘til you book it!

Weekly Amazon Rec:

  How to Stop Acting by Harold Guskin

Despite the title, this book is gold for actors looking to bring presence and authenticity to auditions. Guskin’s approach focuses on freeing yourself from rigid techniques and living in the moment—which is exactly what makes an audition unforgettable. If you want to walk in, take up space, and make an impact, this one's for you.

Snag a copy, throw out the over-rehearsed energy, and own that room before you even speak!

How to Bounce Back When Your Self-Esteem Takes a Nosedive (Without Crying in a Public Restroom)

 Ah, self-esteem. That delicate, wobbly tower of Jenga blocks we spend years carefully stacking—only for one bad audition, rejection email, or ill-timed comment from Aunt Linda to send the whole thing crashing down.

Maybe you flubbed a monologue. Maybe your manuscript got a “thanks, but no thanks” from a publisher who clearly has no taste. Maybe someone told you, “You’re so brave for wearing that,” and now you’re questioning every life choice that led you to this moment.

Whatever the cause, your confidence has taken a hit, and now you’re spiraling. But fear not! I’m here to guide you through the art of bouncing back—gracefully, dramatically, and with just the right amount of delusional optimism.

Step 1: Allow Yourself a Brief, Dramatic Meltdown

Listen, I’m not saying you should throw yourself onto a fainting couch and wail like a Victorian widow (unless that’s your vibe, in which case, respect). But a little wallowing is fine. Eat the sad snack. Watch the comfort show. Stare into the void for a bit.

Just set a timer. You get one evening of existential despair. After that, it’s time to get back to faking it.

Step 2: Remember That Everyone is Faking It

You think that wildly successful actor/writer/creative genius you admire has never doubted themselves? Please. They have entire teams dedicated to making them look confident. You, my friend, are just doing it solo.

Confidence isn’t about feeling like a star—it’s about acting like one. And lucky for you, acting is literally your thing. So slap on a metaphorical (or literal) wig and strut forward like you’ve never known self-doubt in your life.

Step 3: Reframe the Narrative

Did you bomb an audition? No, you gave them a performance so avant-garde they weren’t ready for it. Did your manuscript get rejected? No, you dodged a publisher who wouldn’t have appreciated your brilliance anyway. Did someone insult your outfit? No, you single-handedly introduced them to fashion-forward thinking, and they’re just scared.

See? You’re not failing—you’re just misunderstood.

Step 4: Do Something That Makes You Feel Like a Main Character

Confidence is 90% delusion and 10% good lighting. So do something that makes you feel like the star of your own movie. Wear something ridiculous. Take yourself on a solo date. Walk down the street listening to a playlist that makes you feel like you’re about to take over the world.

If you don’t believe in yourself yet, at least act like you do.

Step 5: Get Back to Work

The fastest way to rebuild confidence? Momentum. Write the next thing. Audition for the next role. Post the next piece of content. Keep moving forward like you’re a runaway train of unstoppable talent.

Because here’s the secret: You are talented. You are capable. And you will book it—if you keep showing up.

So dust yourself off, adjust your metaphorical crown, and get back out there. The world isn’t ready for you—but that’s their problem.

Final Thoughts: Let’s Talk About It

Alright, fellow confidence warriors—what’s the dumbest thing that ever tanked your self-esteem? A weirdly specific insult? A rejection that sent you into an identity crisis? A toddler telling you that you look “tired”? Drop your stories in the comments so we can all laugh (and heal) together.

And hey—if this post gave you even one ounce of delusional confidence, do me a favor: Share it with a friend who needs the pep talk, follow for more chaotic wisdom, and save it for the next time your self-esteem takes a nosedive.

Now go forth and fake it like your rent depends on it—because honestly, it probably does.

Weekly Amazon Rec:

Listen, rejection is basically a rite of passage in the acting world. If you haven’t been told “thanks, but no thanks” at least 47 times, are you even trying?

Luckily, Broadway veteran Nick Wyman has written Climbing Rejection Mountain —a book that helps actors navigate the emotional rollercoaster of rejection while keeping their self-esteem intact.

This book is packed with practical advice, hilarious anecdotes, and cartoons (because sometimes you need a laugh while questioning your life choices). It’s perfect for anyone who’s ever thought, “How do I get an agent?” or “How do I stop crying in my car after auditions?”

So, if your confidence is currently face-down in a puddle, grab this book, read it, and remind yourself that rejection is just a scenic detour on the way to success.

And hey—if you’ve ever had a rejection so ridiculous it deserves its own sitcom episode, drop it in the comments. Let’s commiserate.

I Rehearsed My Lines All Day. Then I Got on Stage and My Brain Logged out

There's a special kind of humiliation that only acting class can provide. It's like therapy, public speaking, and performance anxiety had a chaotic little baby - and then that baby grew up and personally targeted you.

So, here's what happened.

I had a little monologue. A good little monologue. One of those "this is going to get me cast in something, maybe even a limited series on HULU" monologue. I had rehearsed it all day. At home. In the mirror. At stoplights. Whispering it to myself in Trader Joe's like a method actor trying to decide between sourdough and gluten-free.

I had it down. I was ready to blow minds in that little black box studio space.

Then I got up in front of class, took a deep breath, stepped into character, and . . .

Immediate lobotomy.

The words were gone. Not just misplaced- evaporated. I stood there, blinking into the abyss, while my classmates (including that one girl who acts every scene like she's auditioning for a lead role in a Lifetime movie called Cheated, Chained, and Chased: The Persephone Story) watched me crash and burn like a $12 candle in a wind tunnel.

I tried to recover. I threw out some vague paraphrasing. I confidently invented new lines that had zero connection to the original text. I made strong- if highly questionable- choices. There may have been an aggressive whisper. There was definitely a dramatic pause that lasted so long someone coughed in sympathy.

But the point being, I didn't walk off. I didn't cry. I didn't dissolve into a dramatic heap and beg the earth to swallow me whole.

I finished. God help me, I finished that trainwreck like it was part of the process. Like it was supposed to happen.

Because here's the thing they don't tell you in the "follow your dreams" brochures: You will bomb. And you will survive. And sometimes, you learn more form one face-plant of a performance than from ten flawless ones.

Acting class is where we fall apart so we can figure out how to pull it together. It's not about being perfect- it's about being real. Raw. Present. And occasionally, a hot mess.

So yeah, I forgot my little monologue. But I remembered something more important:

I'm still showing up. Still taking it. Still booking it. Even if I have to improvise every damn word.

So, here's what I learned: even when your brain betrays you and the lines vanish like a magician's assistant, you keep going. You take it till you book it. Or fake it. Or improv your way through a weird Shakespear-meets-Kardashians moment on stage.

Because the only real failure is stopping.

Next time? I'll rehearse just as hard. But I'll also leave room for grace, recovery, and the occasional on-stage brain fart. Because let's be honest: forgetting your lines isn't the worst thing that can happen.

Forgetting to show up for yourself? The real tragedy.

If you've ever crashed and burned in front of an audience (real or imagined), I wanna hear about it. Drop your biggest "forgot my lines and failed gloriously" moment in the comments - misery loves company, and hey, we're building a whole troupe of glorious trainwrecks here.

And if this made you laugh, cringe, or nod in painful recognition, give it a follow. There's more where this came from. Weekly meltdowns, minor victories, and survival tips from the actor's front lines.

Weekly Amazon Rec:

 This week's pick? Audition by Michael Shurtleff- it's like having a slightly intimidating yet brilliant acting coach living in your bag. I've underlined half the book and the other half is tear-stained and highlighted. "Every scene you will ever act beings in the middle, and it is up to you, the actor, to provide what comes before." -Michael Shurtleff, Audition.

In other words: your monologue might've gone off the rails, but if you build the truth before it, they'll still buy the ticket. (or at least not leaving during intermission.)

This book is brutally honest, wildly helpful, and filled with the kind of "tough love meets artistic gold" wisdom that ever actor needs-especially when your brain decides to throw your lines into the trash mid-performance.

    

Manifestation or Madness? (An Actor Prepares to...Lose it)

 Let's get one thing straight: acting is already an extreme sport in pretending. So, when someone says, "just act like you've already made it," I'm like -Babe, pretending is my profession. You want delusion? I've cried on cue in a public restroom for a self-tape and called it art. I am delusion. 

But now, as a grown adult with bills, rejection emails, and a resume that includes both Shakespear and "Girl Screaming #2", I've started exploring that magical little concept called:

Manifestation.

Or as I like to call it: Method acting for the role of Booked, Blessed, and Bicoastal.

The Daily Delusion Routine

Every day I wake up and channel my inner award-winning actress. Not because someone cast me lately (unless you count that experimental Zoom reading with three people and a cat), but because the role "Booked and Busy" requires full commitment-even when you're broke and booking nothing but background gigs and emotional growth.

I say my affirmations like I'm preforming for the Academy:

• 'I am a working actor.' (Technically accurate-I work on acting.)
•  'My talent is undeniable.'(Except, apparently, to every casting director this week.)
• 'The industry is lucky to have me.' (And one day it'll realize that-preferably before I'm playing someone's meemaw.)

Manifesting = Acting off-set

Here's the thing: Manifestation isn't a scam- it's acting with no audience. It's stepping into the character of your future self before anyone hands you the role.

You embody the part. You rehearse your lines- "even if you're developing nothing but unhealthy obsessions with checking Casting Networks. You build the character. You stay in the movement. You find the trust in the fiction.

We already lie convincingly for a living. So, lying to ourselves until it becomes real? Honestly, method.  

But is it Madness?

Absolutely! You're rehearsing your Oscar speech in the mirror while brushing your teeth. You're staging fake press interviews while driving in your car. you're walking through life with main character energy when the only thing you booked this week was a commercial callback that ghosted you harder than your ex. 

But you know what else is madness? Choosing this career in the first place. 

And yet, we do it-over and over again. Why? because the dream won't let go. And neither will we.

Final Scene 

Manifestation is madness, and magic. It's acting without a script. Rehearsing for a part no one's promised you. Crafting the illusion so powerfully that eventually- inevitably-someone believes in you. Even 

yourself.

So go ahead, be a little unhinged, Dream out loud. Play the role of a lifetime like you already booked it. 

Because if this whole thing is just one big performance? You might as well own the set!

Your turn

Are you currently acting like you've already booked it? What role are you playing until it's real? Drop it in the comments-I wanna cheer you on (and maybe borrow your affirmations).

And if you're into delusional optimism, dramatic monologues to the universe, and brutally honest behind-the-scenes of the actor life-hit the follow button and stay tuned. We're just getting started.

This Week's Spotlight: Fake it, Read it, Book it

Each week I'll be sharing a handpicked Amazon finds that tie to the Fake it 'Til You Book It life-tools, reads, and hidden gems that help you keep the dream alive. 

This week's pick:

Acting as a Business, Strategies for Success by Brian O'Neil

This one isn't just about the craft- it's about mindset, marketing, and manifesting your way through the chaos of the industry. A staple for every actor who's serious about making the leap from 'aspiring' to 'working'. Plus, it reads like a business-savvy giving you the tough love and tactical advice you didn't know you needed. 

Read it, highlight it, pretend you're reading it on set between takes- manifestation starts with information, darling. 

Budget Friendly Home Audition Studio Essentials

So, you're ready to ditch the "recording-in-your-bathroom" aesthetic and step into the world of professional self-tapes. But your wallet's giving you the side-eye? Fear not! I've scoured Amazon for budget-friendly gear that will have you looking and sounding like a star without the star-level price tag.

Clip on Microphones: Because Your Phone's Mic Isn't Cutting It

Let's face it: your phone's built-in microphone is about a reliable as a weather forecast. Upgrade to a clip-on lavalier mic and let your voice shine without a background noise of your neighbor's lawnmower.

Wedaniya Wireless Lavalier Lapel Microphone

 At Just $13.99, this little gem offers clear audio without the fuss.

2 Pack Type C Mini Wireless Lavalier Microphone

For just $22.99 you get two mics- perfect for interviews or if you just like having a backup.

2Pack Wireless Lavalier Microphone for iPhone iPad Androd with Charge Case

At $28.99, this set is plug-and-play, making your setup as easy as pie.

Lighting: Lights, Camera, please don't make me look like I'm in a Dungeon

Lighting is everything. If you're auditioning for a romantic lead and your face is hidden in shadow like you're giving an anonymous interview on Dateline, we have a problem.

Weilisi 10.5" Ring Light with 69" Tripod Stand

This one is from my personal audition space collection. At just $38.99 it comes with wireless remote, tripod with phone holder, brighter and softer lights, and the new full screen design. 

LimoStudio Softbox Lighting kit $71.99

If you want to get fancy. Great for lighting your whole space- plus, you'll feel like you're on a real set, not just between your couch and dying houseplant. 

Phone Tripods: Because No One Wants to Watch a Wobbly Tape

Your performance shouldn't shake like it's being filmed during the 'Blair Witch Project'. Stabilize your life (and your camera) with one of these.

UBeesize Magnetic Tripod for iPhone with Remote, 64’’$29.13

Tall enough to film standing up, sitting down, or lying on the floor questioning your career choices.

Auto Face Tracking Tripod 360 Rotation $41.99

This sweet little find, has AI face tracking, is good for various angles shooting, and as you can see comes at a budget friendly cost.

Backdrop: Because Your Laundry Pile Isn't Part of the Scene

Kate Collapsible Pop-Up Backdrop for Self-Tape Auditions $46.99

Looks clean, hides clutter, and makes it seem like you have your life together (even if you absolutely do not).

Of course there are other affordable backdrop ideas, such as a solid color wall, an unwrinkled sheet thumbtacked to the wall. You get the idea. The Keywords here are "solid backdrop".

Bonus: Acoustic Panels for Echoey Apartments and Haunted Houses 

If your space sounds like you're yelling into a canyon, a few foam panels can do wonders.

JBER 12 Pack Acoustic Foam Panels

They won't fix your broken connection with your day job, but they will help with the echo.

Final Thoughts (and Passive Aggressive Encouragement)

Look if you've made it this far, congratulations! You're already more dedicated than 80% of people in that Facebook actors' group. You don't need to spend a fortune to look and sound professional. Just a little bit of cash and a whole lot of pretending you've got it all figured out.

Now go forth, tape your heart out, and book the role you deserve-even if you're filming it in a 500 sq ft. apartment that doubles as your bedroom, gym, and emotional spiral zone.

Follow this blog for more broke-but-brilliant actor hacks, and drop a comment below with your favorite audition fail or budget find. I love a good chaos story!

- Your Self-Tape Fairy Godmother (on a budget)

Self-Tapes and Self-Doubt: Auditioning from Home Like a Semi-Unhinged Pro ( or a Newbie Faking it Well)

 Welcome to the wild, confusing, emotionally unstable world of auditioning from home.

Gone are the days of sweaty in-person auditions and awkward waiting rooms with actors who look just like you- but hotter. Now it's just you, your phone, a questionable backdrop, and the crushing silence of self-doubt echoing through your living room.

If you're new to this game, first off: congrats! You've made it to the self-tape era-where you're expected to be an actor, director, lighting technician, cinematographer, sound engineer, editor, and set designer all at once.  For free, in 24 hours, while looking amazing.

Let's break down this emotional rollercoaster, shall we?

Step 1: The Breakdown (Not the Scripted kind)

You get an email: "Hi there! Please submit a 3-page monologue by tomorrow. Fully memorized, in a clean, well-lit space. Use a neutral background. Dress suggestively like the character, but not in a costume. Be natural. Be bold. Be...perfect."

You; panics while taping a wrinkled shower curtain to the wall with painter's tape and prayer.

Step 2: The Setup-AKA Filming in a Janky IKEA Studio

Your tripod is leaning like it just had one too many. Your ring light decides to die mid-slate. Your roommate starts blending a smoothie right as you hit record.

Your cat wants to be in the scene. Your neighbor's toddler wants to audition too.

You start questioning your life choices while adjusting your phone for the 47th time.

Welcome to the professional DIY life.

Step 3: Acting into the Void (and trying not to cry)

You do twelve takes.

• Take 1: robotic.
• Take 2: too emotional.
• Take 3: great until your eye twitches.
• Take 4: cat meowed.
• Take 5: forgot your lines.
• Take 6: perfect-but forgot to hit the record.

By take 12, you're fueled entirely by caffeine, rage, and the faint hope of SAG eligibility.

You picked the one where you looked slightly less dead behind the eyes and hit "send." 

Step 4: The Spiral 

Now begins the waiting. The overanalyzing. The refreshing your inbox like it's your toxic ex's Instagram story.

"Did they even watch it?" 

"Was my slate too long?"

"Did I breathe weird?"

"Should I move to another country?"

STOP. Breathe. You did the thing.

If You're Just Starting Out...

Look, this whole thing is A LOT. It's weird. It's uncomfortable. It can make you feel like you're losing your mind while dressed as a nurse/lawyer/dystopian street urchin in your own living space.

But here's the truth: You're not doing it wrong. You're doing it exactly right.

Yes, your self-tape setup might be one step above a hostage video. Yes, your "neutral" background is a bedsheet thumbtacked to a wall. Yes, your reader is your friend's little brother doing his best robot impression.

But guess what? You're showing up. You're doing the work. And THAT'S what counts.

Pro Tips from Someone Who's Been There (and Still Spirals):

Don't chase perfection. Casting isn't looking for perfect. They're looking for a presence, truth, and potential.

Light your face, not your soul on fire. Natural light + cheap ring light = solid gold.

Frame it well. Shoulders up, eyes forward, No hostages.

Do your best and LET IT GO. They saw what they needed to see in the first 10 seconds. Trust that.

Final Word:

  You're not just learning how to act. You're learning how to persist. And that's what this industry is all about.

So, the next time you're sweating under a ring light, whispering your lines while the dog barks and your roommate reheats leftovers-remember this:

You're faking it 'til you book it. And honestly? That's how everyone starts.

Now go delete 27 takes off your phone and reward yourself with something carby. You earned it. 

Got self-tape horror stories, budget hacks, or questions that still haunt you at 2 a.m.?

Drop them in the comments-I live for a good audition meltdown tale. 

And if you're into snarky survival tips, honest advice, and behind-the-scenes realness about actor life, hit that follow.

Let's fake it together 'til we book it. 

#FakeItTilYouBookIt

When your day job tries to kill your dream: how I'm still acting through it

Welcome back to Fake it 'til you book it', where we chase our dreams while dodging workplace trauma like it's dodgeball in hell.

Let's talk about day jobs- you know, that "supportive side hustle" that was supposed to fund your dreams but somehow turned into a full-blown hostage situation.

Currently starring in "Corporate Purgatory: The Toxic Mangement Chronicles", I've got a front-row seat to a workplace performance that deserves a Razzie, or a pizza party (which one costs less and takes no time at all to set up?) And Mangement? Oh, they've perfected the art of weaponized mediocrity.  They're not just toxic-they're an airborne hazard. The kind of person who only "mentors" you if your lips are firmly attached to their behind like a barnacle on a cruise ship. 

Spoiler alert: I don't kiss anyone's career cushion. Not in this economy. Not for a job that lists "teamwork" as a core value while rewarding sabotage like it's an Olympic sport.

See, the minute your Mangement realizes you've got ambition beyond the breakroom, suddenly you're the problem.  They start hoarding opportunities like they're prepping for an apocalypse of competence.  Oh, you asked about that training program? Cute. What it mysteriously "fill up" seconds before you try to apply.  You didn't smile enough during the morning team meetings? Guess who's now "not a team player."

They don't want you to grow, they want you to stay.  Right where they can see you. In your place. Smiling obedient, and underpaid.

But here's the thing: I'm not staying. I'm faking it "til I book it, remember?" 

So to the Mangement who thinks they can sabotage my shine: baby, I've survived understaffed twelve-hour shifts, passive-aggressive emails, including having to justify my job weekly, oh and fish in the breakroom. You? You're just a line in the backstory of my memoir.  

My dreams? They don't clock out. And neither should yours. Keep applying, keep plotting, keep your vision sacred. Because one day, while they're still playing power games in their sad little sandbox, you'll be living the life they tried to keep from you.

Until then, chin up, middle fingers down (most of the time), and remember you don't need to kiss anyone's career cushion to kick it.

So what's the moral of this story? Don't lose your soul in a place that only promotes people based on how well they polish their career cushion. Keep showing up for your dreams, not their fragile egos.

If you've ever had a Mangement team who treated your ambition like a personal threat-or if you've mastered the art of dodging sabotage with grace and petty sarcasm- drop a comment below and let me know. Misery may love company, but petty loves a story.

Follow for more hot takes, side-eye energy, and survival tips from the trenches.  And tell your dream-chasing bestie to follow too-because solidarity looks better with backups.

Question of the week: What's the pettiest thing a toxic boss ever did to block your shine?

Spill the tea, I've got time and snacks!

The Art of Acting; Crying into the Void

You know what's a beautiful thing about being an actor? No, it's not the glamor, the fame, or the creative fulfillment.  It's the very real possibility that you can pour your soul, your blood, and at least three layers of your skin into a project...and absolutely no one will see it. Not even your cat who watches everything.

One day, you're doing intense table work, researching a character who's gone through seventeen divorces and a tragic clown college incident. You dig deep, sob during rehearsals, maybe even pull a muscle doing your "big emotional scene." You sacrifice your weekends, your dignity, and possibly your eyebrows (depending on the role) for your craft. 

And then?

  Poof... gone. Ghosted by the project like a Tinder date who promised lunch and eternal love.

Maybe the director "lost funding." Maybe the editor "moved to Bali to find himself." Maybe the footage 'got corrupted" because apparently SD cards are emotionally fragile too.  Or-and this one's my personal favorite-maybe the director has ADHD and just bounces to a brand-new shiny project without ever once thinking about the actors still standing there, emotionally naked, holding their shredded dignity in their hands like total idiots.

But don't worry! You still grew as an artist! You learned patience, resilience, and how to fake a smile when someone says, "Hey, when does that thing you filmed come out?"

Oh it's coming out.

Right after my will to live.

Honestly, at this point, I'm just telling people that my missing projects are "exclusive, invite-only art installations." You didn't see it because you're not avant-garde enough, Cathy!

So next time you sob into a monologue for a short film that never materializes, just remember, you are not alone. We are all out here, passionately acting into the abyss, hoping someday someone finds our lost footage and mistakes it for a misunderstood masterpiece.

Until then, I'll be here, booking ghost projects and becoming an invisible legend.  

Got a story about a project that disappeared faster than your rent money? Leave a comment below and let's trauma bond.

 

Fake it 'Til you book it: Surviving the Film Actor Hustle without losing your mind (or your day job)

Welcome, future Oscar winners and indie film surviors!

If you're here, you've probably mastered the fine art of pretending you know what you're doing on set-even when the biggest thing you've "booked" lately is an unpaid student film with craft services that consisted of one bag of pretzels and a bottle of lukewarm water.

Let's be reel; acting for film is a game of smoke, mirrors, and extremely well-timed fake confidence.  So here's how I take it (daily) until I book it-and you absolutely should too.

1.Memorizing lines? Cute. Memorizing vibes? Essential.

  Sure, you could memorize every line perfectly... but if you don't match the vibe the director is secretly imagining but never fully explaining, you're toast.  Best advice?  Nod thoughtfully when given vague notes like "Can you be little more organic?" and reply "Of course, I was already feeling that in the space" (translation: I have no idea what that means, but I'm committed to pretending I do.)

2.Look like you belong on set (even if you don't know what a C-Stand is)

Flim sets are a minefield of cables, jargon, and people yelling "hot points!" If you don't want to be outed as a rookie, here's a trick: walk briskly, look focused, and never touch anything that looks expensive. Bonus move, squint slightly at the monitor like you're evaluating your own performance critically. You'll blend in immediately.

3.The "Demo Reel" is just an elaborate lie

Oh, you think a demo reel is supposed to be a collection of your best acting? Cute.

It's actually a collection of "who you can convince people you are for 30 seconds." A demo reel isn't about showcasing raw talent—it's about perception, persuasion, and illusion. It's not just a highlight reel of your finest moments; it's a carefully curated sales pitch, designed to make casting directors, producers, and decision-makers believe that you embody a particular type, mood, or energy that they need.

In those few precious seconds, you’re not proving you can act—you’re proving you can be castable. Your job isn’t just to impress; it’s to convince. To manipulate expectations just enough so that someone sees you and thinks, Yes, that’s exactly what we need, even if you’re only playing the part of “convincing performer.”

It’s not about authenticity—it’s about perception management. A well-crafted demo reel isn’t about showcasing your range, your depth, or even your best work. It’s about creating an irresistible illusion—because in this industry, being believable for 30 seconds is often worth far more than being brilliant for an entire feature film.

4.Crying on cue? Optional looking good under awful lighting? Mandatory.

Indie films love florescent lights and tragic bathroom scenes. Learn how to tilt your head just right so your cheekbones catch the two working bulbs in the room. Acting is great and all, but if you can survive harsh lighting, you can survive anything.

5.Auditioning = Emotional Speed Dating

Film auditions are brutal, and the rise of self-taping—born out of the pandemic's necessity—has only added a new layer of complexity. What started as a workaround during COVID has now become the norm, forcing actors to not only perform but also master the art of lighting, sound, and editing. It's a one-person production, where you're not just auditioning for the role but also proving you can handle the technical demands of modern casting. The stakes have never been higher.

Reel talk: Smile, charm, say your lines with every ounce of conviction you can muster—because half the battle isn’t about talent, it’s about presence. A casting director isn’t just looking for the best performer; they’re searching for someone who feels effortless, who exudes confidence without desperation. It’s not just about knowing your lines—it’s about making them feel like they were written just for you.

6.Imposter Syndrome is basically a paid extra

Here's a secret most working actors won't tell you: everybody is winging it.

That guy with the recurring Netflix role?  Winged it. That girl who "just moved here" and already booked a feature? Winged it.  The difference is they smiled while they panicked inside. (PRO tip: black coffee + delusion = 75% of the acting career.)

7.Celebrate Everything. Yes, Even the bad-self Tape. 

Got a self-tape request at 11 PM due tomorrow in "natural lighting" when it's already dark outside? Congratulations, you're officially an actor.

Got a rejection email that called you "talented" but "not quit the right fit"? Frame it.

Every tiny disaster is proof you're in the game. And honestly in this business, staying in the game is the biggest win of all.

Final thoughts:

  In film acting, nobody really knows what they're doing.  We're all just weirdos pretending to be other weirdos while someone points a camera at us.

So fake the confidence, fake the poise.  Fake the casual "I totally understood that vague direction" head nod. And when you finally book that dream role, you'll realize... you were actually doing it for reel the whole time. (Ha! suckers)

Leave a comment below with your best fake-it-'til-you-book-it story and don't forget to tag me when your post your next moody, black-and-white headshot.  I'll be clapping from afar.