All successful people have a trail of failures behind them. We’re a culture that shames failing, but trial and error is an essential part of any process (and life in general). We learn from our mistakes: from experimenting and attempting and trying. There’s nothing wrong with failing—in fact, it’s a good sign. You’re one step closer to succeeding.
I had a callback to a Melissa McCarthy movie. I was sitting in the waiting room with the other girls, listening to the explosion of laughter that would come from the audition room. I was nervous. Melissa McCarthy was in there! And she was going to read her character’s lines with me! I was also nervous because a notable comedy casting director, Allison Jones, had brought me straight into a producer session for this role (meaning it was the first time I was reading the material out loud for the producers; normally you have an initial audition before a callback with them). I always get nervous when I’m brought straight into a callback. I like the initial audition process. You get a chance to read the character with the casting director and be guided by them. By the time you get to the callback, you have a better hold on your performance.
But this was a role I hadn’t read for. I had no idea who this character was, and I was a little confused about what made her funny. When it was my turn, I went in the room and did my best.
And I failed so fucking hard.
I wasn’t funny. There were no laughs. I could feel myself slowly crashing and burning in front of everyone’s eyes. I wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. Here I was, in front of comedy legend Melissa McCarthy, and I wasn’t even remotely funny. I left the audition and banged my head against the wheel of my car. I beat myself up the whole way home.
Then there was the time I had to pitch a comic book to a studio in hopes of getting a graphic novel under my belt. I hate pitching. For those of you who don’t know, pitching is basically telling a story, conversationally, to an executive. You describe the movie or TV show or comic book and its characters and what the story looks like from beginning to end. I hate it. I’m terrible at communicating stories in person. I skip ahead and explain things badly. I’m always tempted to just read my notes, but people want you to pitch with your voice and charisma, and to lead them with your energy. Unfortunately, it’s not my strong suit. I’m bad at talking to people I like at parties. It’s going to take me a long time to get good at talking to executives who can fund my projects.
So there I was, in front of the executives, rambling on about the world and the story and the characters. Finally I got to the end. I felt good about it. I’d practiced this pitch out loud at home for an hour. I’d even recorded myself on my phone and listened to it, noting where I’d improvised nicely and where I was stale.
Finally the executive said, “I’m so confused.”
Confusion is worse than someone not liking your story. Because they don’t even understand what the hell your story is about.
While neither of these experiences was fun, they are ones that I’ll live with and learn from. I know what I did wrong, so hopefully next time I can do it right. Failure is so many wonderful things; it’s motivation to do better next time, a learning opportunity to see what you did wrong, and ultimately the proof that you at least tried. So many people are afraid of failure that it stops them from ever trying. Instead of feeling ashamed over failures, we should embrace them. They’re a necessary evil. And though I will still cringe in embarrassment each time one of these memories is brought to the surface, I still give myself a little pat on the back for the attempt, and I silently vow to do better next time.