The Career Break Saga (Part 2)

 

Out of the Frying Pan: Greased up and Ready

The Career Break Saga Vol. 2

 

Recap

If this were Netflix, I’m sure you’d skip this section, but I’m even more sure you’ll read this with the attention you’d give to a lost puppy, or a new nephew, still slathered with the sickly-sweet, sour-milk novelty of the new-born. So sure in fact, that I’ve written this part better than the rest, to juxtapose with the following paragraphs of drivel, just so I can confirm how good this section is using the inevitable glowing reviews you leave below and write in your own blogs commenting on how strong I started and how mediocrely I continued and how my punctuation needs a lot of work before I make it anywhere in the literary industry. Perhaps you’ll even talk about this recap on your BookTok videos and BlogReviewPodcasts about how it isn’t really a recap at all, but rather a pointless jumble of words put together merely to lead into the next section of this intoxicating story of bravery (and significant preparation)…

(skip) Real Recap

 So, last time I wrote to you, I mentioned the fear, the trepidation, the anxiety, the excitement, the apprehension, the worry, and worst of all – the spreadsheets. Do not fear, trepidise or anxiefy yourself, for those will continue in this next instalment. I was in the midst of formulating my escape plan and was yet to put it into action… there has been action, so much action, despite the distinct lack of lights or camera. And the action goes like this dot dot dot.

Escape Supporting Artiste – That’s what they call us Extras by the way – notice the ‘e’ at the end to make us feel special while we’re freezing in a poorly-insulated tent with our kindly-provided production cereal bar and lukewarm, granulated and curdled coffee that I don’t even drink but take to be polite.

My last day in my current position is less than two weeks from now, as I write this. Scary, yes, still, but there were a few things that needed to happen to get into this position.

1.     Talks with management.

2.     Finding a replacement.

3.     Talks with management.

4.     Eating, drinking, sleeping (and other things what you might expect to do on a daily basis).

5.     Talks with management (this one may have been added for dramatic effect).

I had to be involved in the recruitment process, as well as be in the discussions regarding an appropriate timescale for me to leave. That’s now done. Replacement found, interviewed and appointed. So, I’m sliding down the edge of that NHS-blue frying pan like a mis-slapped knob of butter, and I need to figure out a way to not melt before I slide along the hob (we’re firmly going with induction ring in this analogy) and slap, once again, onto the cool lino floor. Should I be successful, I will be left here for a while, re-solidifying, until I develop mouldy growths, which I somehow fashion into usable limbs and those limbs will then… and then… Yeah, so I just need to make sure I can still pay my mortgage.

Casting Rundown (and awkwardness)

As you may well know, to be an extra, you need photos for what amounts to producer-Tinder. Casting directors, producers, or anyone who they think has an eye for these things will scrutinise your every pore to determine whether you are suitable, and indeed worthy, of a role in their film or TV programme. Should you have the correct pores (and appendages) for the job, you might well get selected from the slush pile of willing bodies (of which there are many). We are meat, yes, delicious virtual meat for the production team to prod and poke and swipe left or right depending on their personal tastes at that moment (and which suggestion-based condiments have been supplied by other members of the team). As a vegan, I enjoy this as a sort of martyrdom, another method of putting myself in an animal’s shoes… hoof-shaped, clog-like shoes.

This is the easy one. Plain background – look at the camera, don’t smile too much or too little, and try to look as tall as possible. Unless they want short people, in which case, I can just be myself!

Commercial modelling is a different matter – a much more awkward matter, and a matter which matters, because I’m hoping this will supplement the rest with an occasional injection of pocket money. Generally, because the projects are smaller, they can afford to pay a little bit more for a shorter time than they do on TV or Film projects.

Photos taken by a friend for £50 in a variety of outfits, in a variety of locations, in one kind of weather – bloody windy. Of course, we had to schedule the shoot just in time for Hurricane Edna, or Enid, or Ethel Merman, or whoever she was, to violently waft the UK's foliage and greenery and anyone brave enough to wander between them. But, with limbs of ice and a heart full of hope, I modelled on.

After a series of incrementally uncomfortable poses and exponential cringe, I got some pictures I thought might pass the agency scrutiny. I was wrong. Some of them were okay, but I needed more variety. I wouldn’t get on the books this time… and that precious time was running out, with only a few weeks before I was due to finish.

I frantically (but with an outwardly calm and measured demeanour) found another way. With a borrowed camera (or two), a recruited girlfriend (recruited as a photographer, not as a girlfriend) and two friends, two weeks later, we spent a weekend trawling the streets of Birmingham (and parks and gardens) to scrape some kind of portfolio together. Ignoring the passers-by, and small, sniggering crowds, we took hundreds of photos in different scenarios.

In less than 48 hours, I was a mechanic, a gardener, an estate agent, a property developer, a pub-goer, a librarian, a wildlife photographer, a flirty wall-leaner, a climbing instructor, a rambler - added to my other professions from before - yoga teacher, cyclist, gym-goer and, of course, a professional pouter with the power of Blue Steel.

I then had to teach myself how to use GIMP photo editor to tidy them up and send them back to my prospective agent. To my surprise (though I would have been thoroughly disappointed otherwise) he said they were good. Actually, he said more than that, he said they were just what the agency was after! Phew… this might actually work out.

Application Station

So far I’ve applied to somewhere around 20 agencies (some of them with different sections) and have my eye on a number of social media groups with casting calls. I think I might almost be ready, still terrified, but with the edges smoothed despite many awaiting approval.

Each agency has a different way of applying, some are just by e-mail, some have forms, some use different systems such as WeGotPop, an interface which holds many agents, but unfortunately requires inputting the same information for each of them. The majority have one thing in common – they take ages to complete.

You have to keep your eyes in different places, social media groups, e-mails and some even have purpose-built apps. Whatever the availability requests come through, you have to be quick, which is why I’ve put in a final application to be genetically modified into having the beautiful eyes of a chameleon. I’m not sure how this will affect my chances of landing roles, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to keep track of more simultaneously.

Excel sheets still at the ready, now I need to figure out how to keep track of all of the dates without going cross-eyed, which is remarkably difficult to do as a chameleon, so double benefits!

The part you’ve all been waiting for (the end… of vol. 2)

So, I’ve got my replacement, an end date and I have a plethora of agencies to ensure the best possible chance of finding work, and my back up of physio as well.

Now all I need to do is get myself booked in and hope my face can both stick out from a crowd and blend into a background.

Pretty sure I can manage that… maybe.