So, no. I didn’t get the part.
But here’s why: the director told me that he didn’t think I looked like an embittered writer who’d lost his wife.
Old time readers should see the irony in that bad boy.
It’s actually something of a relief. Like a final affirmation. Ken, you’re not that guy any more. Congratulations.
I don’t mind. I’m working hard on finishing Love of Your Life (77 out of 90-ish thousand words) and, while that doesn’t quite have the “Dig Me” factor that acting provides, it’s good work. And, you never know, another audition could be only days away.
I’ll keep you posted.
Ps. By the way, Vicky has been threatening leaving a post. I just thought I’d warn those of you with weak hearts. (Love you, baby!)
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