Writing Exercise: Write About Yourself as a Character

Even on a good day, the director's temper could flare up at the slightest provoking. Today was muggy, the air still and stifling. With the air conditioning out, the creative team know it was going to be a trying meeting even before the director stormed into the room.

"Emily Blunt pulled out," he said. "Bitch. And we need someone to replace her. ASAP."

Silence. The role called for a petite woman, athletic and fit yet soft-spoken. Middle-age but holding up spectacularly. A dynamic and rare combination.

"And she has to be  dual citizen," the director said.

And we all groaned at the thought of this impossible task.  Names were tossed out and then tossed aside just as quickly. Too tall, not fit enough, too scrawny, too loud-mouthed. 

"Well," Sasha the new assistant said. "I know this girl in Bozeman."

We all cringed feeling sorry for her, waiting for the hammer to strike. New-comers who speak too soon do not fare well with the director. You need to observe for a while before speaking up. The director was big on hierarchy. 

Sasha continued. "She's petite and she's definitely soft-spoken. And she has an Italian passport."

The director cut her off. "Perfect. Get 'er in here."

Silence. Sasha's face blanched, a small gasp escaping from her perfectly polished lips.

"Go ahead," the director said specks of spittle spewing from his lips.

"Well," Sasha whispered. "Her thighs are...well they're kinda...uh..."

"Is she fat?" the assistant director asked.

"No, she just has bulky legs. Strong legs, not long and lean like Hollywood likes them," Sasha said.

Multiple team members tapped their fingers, some fidgeted with their belonging as they waited for the director to respond. He gazed out the window inscrutably. Another moment of excruciating silence.

"A muscular legged actress," the director said turning back to the group. "I'm captivated. So many possibilities."

No one said a word.

"Pilates, crash diet, creative costuming. Get her in here."

He nodded at Sasha who perked up noticeably.

"Ya gotta use your brains people like my gal Sasha. I hired you for your creative juices now get 'em flowing. Let's not let stumpy legs get in the way of a great lead."

A snap of the fingers at his assistant, a sign the whiteboard should be rolled out. Tension filled the room. This was the moment when you found out where you stood with the director, the divvying of tasks.

"Her name please," the director asked and Sasha spelled it out.

"A-n-n V-i-n-c-i-g-u-e-r-r-a," was the answer.

We all wondered about this mystery woman. We couldn't wait to meet her.