Torture!

We're about halfway through creating the one-to-two minute mini interviews I wrote about in my last post. Torture! Probably much more so for John than for me. He's being incredibly patient. I actually hope that my part in the interviews is at least 90% over, though I know John's editing is only beginning.

I'd divided my topics into five frequently asked questions and wrote a general script of things I would say. John asked ahead of time to see my script, but I pooh-poohed the idea, telling him I'd be fine and just wanted to relax and be myself and go with the flow, yada yada. Famous last words.

In the studio, John hooked me up to the mic and gave me the "go" signal and so I "went" with the answer to my first question: "How did you get started writing?" After a while, he stopped the camera.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You're at seven minutes."

"You're kidding!"

Hmm. Clearly my go-with-the-flow idea wasn't going to work.

So we came upstairs, I gave him a copy of my script and we started editing. A lot.

I really like speaking, but have a tendency to. . .well, ramble. Rambling doesn't work when you're trying to squeeze a bunch of ideas into a minute. I discovered I simply can't follow a script. How do actors do it??

We didn't make it back into the studio until this morning. After a rocky start (I needed more water. Throat lozenges. Another primping at the mirror. I never knew I could be such a diva!), we sailed through. At least I hope we did. John's watching the footage now and he won't let me near his computer room. I'm steeling myself for the moment I hear him coming up the stairs, those dreaded words on his lips: We need another take.

Torture!