Saturday, May 12, 2012

Me, Myself... Monologues

I often see actors on social media asking if anyone knows of good (contemporary) monologues for auditions or their show reel. Occasionally I even get asked if I can recommend scenes or monologues. As a writer, my response invariably includes:

"You could always have one written for you."

Yes, if you're looking for a good monologue I can write one specifically for you!

Here's the deal - for $120 I will write an original monologue of around 3 minutes in length based on:

- a scenario; or
- a theme; or
- a character type;

that you specify. PLUS I will also do one polish based on your feedback.

Please contact me on to organise.

Below is a sample monologue:

The Birdcage

I hate it when people ask how things are going. I can hear it in their voice, the faint disapproval, the condescending tone. They are waiting to hear that it’s all too hard, that I made a mistake, that I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter how tough things get, how desperate times are. I will never give them that satisfaction. Never.

I couldn’t wait to leave home. To do my own thing, to live life on my own terms. It was like someone had left the door open to a bird cage. I was free to explore the world outside the bars, the rules, all the restrictions. What a revelation! I flew all the way to the other side of the country. To find exciting new possibilities, a bright shiny future, a better me.

Or so I thought.

Now I know sometimes the bars are there to keep the predators out. The users, the posers, the people who take advantage. The guys who crush your dreams.

The ones who make you sell yourself to pay the rent. The clients who make you feel less than what you really are.

Their horrid breath, the sweat, the callous disregard.

I will never ever give them that satisfaction. No matter how tough things get. When they ask, I smile sweetly and say everything is fabulous, more than I ever could have hoped for. You’re the only one I dare reveal the truth to.

I wonder if anyone else can tell… if she can tell? Forever leaving messages, forever sending gift packs. Another newly knitted jumper. Never money. She says she’s proud of me. I wish I could say the same.

Then there’s the boy. He said he would follow me. Give up his job, his friends, his ambitions, all for me. There’s a time that used to make me smile. Now it terrifies me. He wouldn’t understand… the choices, the desperation… the guilt. 

I often dream of going home.

But the cage is always easier to flee than it is to return to.

© Richard Hyde, 2012

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