Chapter 16: Acting Lessons
by Emmet
“Alexa?” I said. “Were you waiting to see me? Did we have an appointment?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” she said. “No appointment, I mean. I just thought, if you had a free minute, maybe we could talk about this character assignment.”
Five minutes until the next class, but I went back into the classroom with her, tried to give her pointers. She kept repeating, “But, I just don’t get how to do that!”
Finally I said, “Alexa. Don’t try so hard, don’t worry about getting it right or not. Just, write without thinking too much about what I might think. Look, try this exercise. Describe – someone in your family. Just sit down and write whatever comes into your head. Don’t reread it as you write – just let words flow onto paper, even if they don’t make sense.”
“But that’s so, you know, disorganized,” she complained. “No one will want to read that.”
The final bell rang, and my next class began to filter into the room. “But that’s what you need to let go, Alexa,” I said. “Look. Do a draft the way I described. Do not read over what you wrote, and hand it in before the assignment is due. I’ll comment on what you’ve written to help for the final copy. I bet you’ll surprise yourself.” She looked dubious, but gathered her papers together.
“Thanks, I guess,” she said.
*****
Another weekend, two Graceless days. Friday I had dinner with my sister April and her family, enjoying the distraction of my niece and nephews and conversations that jumped all over the place. Saturday I started to go through the class journals.
I’m trying to be more observant now, to notice the little things that you said might seem to be insignificant but write them down anyway. Like how when I was stage-managing for both plays, and managed to keep track of where everyone needed to be when and with who and in what costume. Trying to take those details I make in lists and turn them into details for a story. Trying to see the interactions going all around before me. When Jerry’s wife started coming to rehearsals bringing him sandwiches, I could see he didn’t really like the sandwiches that much, but he liked that she brought them. I thought that was an interesting detail and observation. And like it was smart who Jerry picked for the leads, because there was tension there off stage that worked on stage. Maybe I’ll want to do directing some time. I noticed the girl Sara who did costumes for the last play didn’t do them this time. All these things I’m trying to notice, but it’s hard to know which unimportant details are actually important, or at least are interesting enough to use. It’s hard to just make things up and have it be a story.
Saturday night I went out with Jerry and Rene, and a friend of Rene’s from work. I had thought it would be just the three of us, would have said no, had I known I was being set up. The odd loyalty of two people who cannot date not seeing other people. They insisted it was not a blind date, was just a chance to go out with two friends, though I don’t know why they pretended. We had dinner, Spanish with pitchers of sangria. Talk turned to work, inevitably – Rene and Nina discussed sales issues at the software company where they programmed, and Jerry regaled us with tales of his recent production.
“Meant to tell you,” I said. “Great interpretation of The Crucible, Jer.”
Nina looked around the table. “We’re talking high-school play here?”
“Yep,” I said. “Jerry and I direct the productions at Upton Sinclair.”
“I love The Crucible,” she said. “Sorry I missed it.”
I said, “You missed a great show. I went each night, and it kept getting better.” Wouldn’t dream of missing any of Grace’s performances.
“She really was incredible,” Rene interjected. “Not the typical high-school performance. She has such presence on the stage. And the other one, who played Abigail Williams?”
“Jessie Sammler,” Jerry supplied.
“Yes – she was very good too. But Elizabeth Proctor – scary to have a teenager act that convincingly!”