Page 141 - 100 Ways to Motivate Yourself

I learned to my horror that I was the only non-actor in the class. In our first

session, led by the hugely talented actress and coach Judy Rollings, I listened as
everyone in the class talked about all the recent stage productions they had been
in.

Judy gave us each a long monologue to learn and recite in the next session.
Mine was from Spoon River Anthology and my character was a judge who had
been mocked as a young man, but rose to judge those in the community who
used to make fun of him. It was a challenging piece, and I was terrified.

I knew I had to do something harder than the recital to prepare for the recital,
so I set out to do it. I memorized my part and began to perform it in front of
people. I asked whoever would listen to sit down and watch me recite this piece.
I did it in front of my actress friend Judy LeBeau, who had gotten me into the
class. I recorded it and sent it to songwriter and comedian Fred Knipe. I did it in

front of my friend Kathy. I made my children sit quietly and watch me do it over
and over. Each time, I was scared, my heart was pounding, and I
hyperventilated. But each time it got easier and better. Finally the day of the
class arrived. I took the day off from work to rehearse this little three-minute
piece all day. When class time arrived, I was extremely nervous, but not deeply
panicked.

Judy Rollings asked for volunteers to perform their monologues, and as each
experienced actor got up to do theirs, I gained confidence. I could see that they,
too, were very nervous. They were acting in front of peers, which is sometimes
harder than before a normal audience. They were blowing their lines and, in
embarrassment, asking to start over. Some of their voices were a little shaky. I

was encouraged. Finally, with just one or two of us left to go, I volunteered and
walked slowly to the front of the room.

What happened then is something I’ll never forget. As I went to the front of
the room, just before I turned around to face the teacher and class, a voice in my
mind spoke to me, and it said only one word: Showtime. With a surprising surge
of energy, I delivered my piece. My voice soared up and hit the dramatic points
and dropped down to emphasize the subtle lines and the parts that I gave a funny
interpretation to were drawing huge laughs from the class. When I was finished,
I looked back up and saw that the whole class had burst out clapping—
something Judy had told them not to do for anybody.

When I drove home that night, I was in heaven. I kept reciting my
monologue out loud, reveling in the memory of their laughter and clapping. The