I had big Corn Pop teeth
and thick cat-eye glasses as a kid.
Is it any wonder I gravitated toward the
dreamy world of movies?
I inherited the kingdom of geekdom!
But then I learned the power of a tube of lipstick
after my older sister introduced me to Kissing Potion.
My Jr. High boyfriend (poor Todd H) got sick after sucking this off my mouth one night.
Maybe I put too much on?
This is me trying to look French and alluring in my
$13 pillbox hat from Woolworth’s.
(Woolworth’s? Yes, I’m that old.)
I was the laughing stock of my cruel school during 6th grade cheerleading tryouts. A cartwheel is supposed to look like an elegant X with straight limbs. Mine looked like a broken swastika. But humility and failure are huge motivators for me.
By 9th grade I was on the dance team and remained there throughout high school. Our Madison Ramettes were state champs.
Because I was a seriously clumsy youth my mom enrolled us in a beauty and charm course at the Mansfield Business School (because, apparently, beauty was more important than typing skills for getting a job back then). We met once a week for a whole month.
My big takeaway: I learned how to walk without looking like Disney’s Mowgli.
And then I wanted to get serious about acting – so my mom enrolled me in this modeling pageant which made us all howl with glee.
Then I won – and we howled even louder.
Someone has to model those things that aren’t as glam as a pot of $90 lip gloss or anything Gucci. I was the go-to gal for Cedar Bay Traders. Then the store went bust. Hmmm…
I took any gig I could find an audition for – including a half-baked lounge act that had it’s pros and cons.
CONS:
1) Bill Kates called us his LA Ladies when we were clearly all living in Cowtown (aka Columbus).
2) It was the only lounge act where we started off wearing skimpy beaded bikinis and slowly added more clothing as the show progressed.
3) Only 2 of us could actually dance. Not sure how the other 2 got hired but I have some ideas.
4) Cattiness ensued; one of the other “LA” Ladies was fond of reminding me that “It’s a good thing you can dance because you have no boobs whatsoever.”
To borrow a lyric from A Chorus Line: “Well! Dance 10, Looks 3!”
PROS:
We played at the Tangier Club in Akron – and in the next ballroom over was Dizzy Gillespie. During intermission I would race over to watch him play and know that no matter how laughable my show was, I was one ballroom away from jazz greatness.
Eventually, you have your fleeting day in the sun. This was mine.
I did community and collegiate theater for 13 years; age 13 to 26.
Most of it was crappy – but there were a few memorable gems in there, like the time I noticed my classmates in the front row hiding their laughter while I – the Milkmaid in “Oliver” – sang about the two buckets of milk I was trying to sell. To make me look older and bustier the costumer had stuffed my Teen-Charm bra with a couple of rolled-up black socks. During performance I looked down to see what my classmates were roaring about and there it was – a long black sock had snaked it’s way out of my bra for all the world to see.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
And for my next act . . .
It was time to leave the Midwest and head out to conquer LA and earn my star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. So I put together some headshots and crammed them into a portfolio case. This was what we used instead of social media to show casting people what we looked like. Because, apparently, it’s too damn hard for them to look at you in person after you’ve driven through rush hour to meet with them.
My mom’s pearls, my sister’s dress, and a pair of Suntan L’egg’s pantyhose. It was indicative of the times, kids.
If you’re going to stay out all night before a photo shoot go with the “I just closed the bar” look. That way you can call it a character shot. (Note: I don’t smoke. I hate smoke. Please live a longer life and don’t smoke.)
When the photographer tells you to look sexy and you’re like, what? And you feel like a doofus — and then they snap the pic.
I still have those little wispy hairs that look like paintbrush whiskers at the top of my forehead. I have no idea what use they are — but, embrace!
Now I understand why girls today wear false eyelashes and use a lash curler. This is me – with TWO coats of Great Lash.
LA: Before the invention of cell phones, the internet for the masses and GPS, all the actors would rush to the 7-11 every Thursday and buy the latest issue of Drama-Logue to see who was casting what. Self included. My roomies and I thought we were on our way to super stardom when we got cast as extras in a number of forgettable films and TV shows; Men at Work, Spooner, Moonlighting, Freddy’s Nightmares — you know, the hits you never heard of.
I did come close. Once. It was another one of those Charlie’s Angels reboots. I was the only callback in the room who didn’t have ample cleavage. (It was the 80s, kids, and cleavage was all the rage.)
After some acting burnout and my fruitless trek to LA my mom devised a sneaky plan to get me back to Ohio. She flew my sister out on a one-way ticket – so I had to DRIVE her back home. She knew very well my crappy car would fall apart and I would be forced to get a job in Ohio to get my car back in working order – and by then I’d be a happy Ohioan once again.
Finally, here’s more about my writing and filmic stuff – which is probably why you’re here in the first place.
THE BIO (ooh-aah!)
I’m an Academy Nicholl Fellowship and
Screencraft Fellowship semi-finalist with
produced credits.
As an Executive Producer, I wrapped the
anti-bullying short, Strain, with Yin Chang
(Disney’s Prom, CW’s Gossip Girl). NY Senator
Martins declared it “one of the most powerful
films I’ve seen on this important topic.”
Some of my projects include writing The
Lodge (Netflix, Chiller TV) for Brothers Shamus
Pictures and producing the hip-hop feature
documentary Groove Shack (Bronze Award at
the CIFVF) for Martin Jones Productions.
Because I had trouble saying no in my earlier years I found myself assisting Robert McKee for the Great American Pitchfest in Lala Land.
I studied Theater and Dance at The Ohio
State University’s BFA program for three years
before I decided on the lucrative degree of
English.
I have taught various screenwriting workshops
through the Ohio State University’s National
Collegiate Arts Programs and Columbus State
Community College.
Some of my short works, “Red Hot Charlie” and “In the Absence of Chocolate Jimmies”, have been
published in volumes 1 and 2 of “Lost Tequila
Weekend”, a west coast magazine for literature and art.
Currently, I’m in development on the swing-era
feature, Midnight Swing with producer Laurie
Ashbourne, and with Micky Shiloah on the music-based limited series Bad Gay.
Well, she was right. I married my life’s journey-mate; another creative type whose mom was fond of saying “That boy’s no genius!” (In fact, he graduated magna cum laude with a major in Journalism and minors in Economics and Film. He hasn’t a lick of common sense but he’s super smart.)
This is us (left) in our early days before my LA excursion.
And this is me (below) after many many years of life and gravity – unfiltered and raw – bc the year of Covid has made me face some realities starting with what I actually look like without a mask or make-up. And isn’t make-up a mask anyway?
