ABSTRACT
As a young and eager actor, one of the best things about auditions was the fact that they were there in the diary — both the one in my Filofax and the other one in my mind — to be looked forward to and worked towards. Sometimes there were lots of auditions for a multitude of jobs (we were talking the affluent 1980s here) and at other times nothing came in for weeks, even months, so those auditions that I was offered were all the more important. When one came my way, often with a week or two's notice for preparation, I would look at my diary regularly at that magic word ‘audition’ at 3.25 on Tuesday. ‘Wonderful!’ I would think to myself, as I did whatever preparation was required. As the time went on, I would think about it more and dream about getting the job, whatever it happened to be. The day before, I would be rushing around, trying to make sure everything I could have possibly done was prepared and ready for the big day — which then, often all too soon, arrived.
