No Word

Here’s a correspondence between me and an actor, about their audition:

Dear Les,
No word on my audition, so I guess they didn’t like it.

—

Dear No Word,
Why you gotta go there?
Why you gotta think they didn’t like it?
Here’s something I wrote for THE BOOKED IT! BOOK that didn’t make it into the final version . . . hopefully it’ll help.
Love,
Lesterina

—

You gotta find a way to believe that your audition was –
in all likelihood –
not the horrifyingly embarrassing, career-ending
tragedy of catastrophic proportion you believe that it was.
You were probably pretty good.
But casting, as we know too well, often has very little to do with you.
The wedding dress I ultimately purchased
was not hands-down the most beautiful one in the entire store.
Can you believe it?
One in particular was gorgeous on the hanger –
but significantly less attractive when gracing my particular frame.
Another was stunning from afar (but only from afar),
Yet a third looked vaguely like my Aunt Pearl’s tablecloth,
and several were too expensive
(though the fact that I was getting married at all was, in my opinion, nothing short of a miracle and therefore justified almost ANY expenditure).
That left, lessee now . . . yup!
About a zillion OTHER amazing dresses from which I hadda choose!
But I could only buy one.
Did the rest suck? Were they awful? Ugly? Bad? Talent-free?
Nope. They were all gorgeous.
It was simply not. Their lucky. Day.
Whaddaya gonna do?