Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
WRITING OBSTACLE
Describe a tense scene backstage at some kind of audition. Focus on the internal monologue of your protagonist.
Detail their anxieties and motivations as they wait for their turn. How do their nerves affect the outcome of their audition?
Writings
I take a deep, shaky breath as my fingers close around the instrument case. I carry it against my leg and walk over to backstage. I fiddle with the lock and pry it open. My clarinet lay inside, its keys shining and the wood gently scratched. The box of reeds is tucked in my jacket, and I pull one out. I flip the reed and set it in my mouth, letting the saliva wet the wood. I take the bell out of t...
Just leave
You aren’t good enough
Look at them
They are all professionals
You are nothing but amateur night
You stink
You suck
And are stuck
In a rut
Without much
To show for your struggles
Leave now
While you can
Excuse me, you are next. Are you ready?
Oh, sure. I’m more than ready, he says as he leaves with a smile....
I see him. Draven Rosewood. The richest man in town, and he’s staring at me.
I ignore the stare, and move to my things.
My audition is next.
I need the role of Juliet, in Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_, if colleges will ever blink an eye at me.
“Elena Star,” someone calls my name.
I take a deep breath.
I begin to walk out, but a hand grabs my wrist.
I turn to see Draven smirking.
“Good ...
Am i sane
Am I sexy enough
Macho
Everyone got bigger muscles than me
Piss take i can’t remember the lines
Please make me remember the lines
Don’t flake out
What is my characters motivation
Just do the job
It’s not art it’s acting
Would they ,like me
Would i get the part
Try my best
Look forward to the next 1000 audition
Payeck non the local bar as a waiter to pay the bills...
This is what I have been waiting for my entire life. The fate of my future is decided today.
These thoughts rush through my brain, one after the other after the other. My heart beating, on and off but almost always on. It’s raining today, great. My perfectly slicked back bun poofs with frizz, needing additional attention when I sit in the cold plastic chair in front of the mirror with those terr...
Sticky sweet with nervous sweat, the backstage was charged with magic. Rolling her shoulders, Wyck stretched down. Feet akimbo and hands flat on the cool stone tiles, Wyck allowed her head to hang loose. Her long dark covered her face. A dancer pointed.
“Oh my Gods, do you see what she’s wearing? She’s looks like a drunken troll,” Grimelba stage whispered.
“Maybe she is a troll because she certa...
Not this again.
I always tell myself it’s going to be different this time. But it never is.
Always the same panic. The same sweat running down my back. The same short breaths high in my chest.
I did everything right this week - ate right, slept right, worked out, tried those meditation recommendations from my friend.
And all for what? To feel the exact same?
People are noticing I’m panick...
This actually happened and my director is a huge uh old guy that likes …
“Kallian. Monologue” Mr Shumaker said in a bored tone.
My heart starts pounding and I stand up from my seat and step forward.
“Do you know what every one says about you? They say your a homeschooled jungle freak who’s a less hot version of me.”
As I continue i play the next words in my head knowing I have to put my all...
_You can’t do it. You know you can’t do it, people have told you this so many times before. You’ll just prove them all right. At least that’s one thing you can do right, fail. Fail for everyone to see, so that they know they were really right about you. Only if - what if you’re wrong? What if you can do it? Doesn’t matter because you won’t. You’ll turn right around and walk out. Another missed opp...
Chelsea stood backstage, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She could feel the nervous energy coursing through her veins, making her hands tremble slightly. Thoughts raced through her mind, "What if I mess up? What if I forget my lines? Will they like my performance?"
As she waited for her turn, Chelsea's anxieties grew stronger. She replayed her lines in her head over and over, trying ...
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