That Social Problem

Recently, I figured out a long standing problem I have been having. It turns out that I have social anxiety. As it happens, it’s a pretty mild and it isn’t in any way debilitating. But it does affect my life in some profound ways.

This is how it works: There is a little voice in the back of my head, and it tries to tell me that I’m not worth knowing. If a joke falls flat, or I say something that doesn’t quite come out the way I intended, the voice says something like “and that’s why people don’t like you.” It analyzes everything I do, and puts the worst possible spin on things. Given the opportunity to go out to some gathering where I don’t know many people, the voice tells me that there is no point in going since no one likes me anyway, or that I have nothing of value to offer. The voice has a comment for every situation, eroding any confidence I have managed to build.

And its there all the time. I can’t escape it. It’s there when I walk down the street, it’s at work, it’s in casual conversation. It follows me everywhere. Its as though my own mind is constantly urging me to just shut myself away to spare other people the difficulty of dealing with me.

And the worst part is, that I know its not true. My rational brain says that its not that bad. That other people don’t find dealing with me painful. And yet, that’s the first thing my brain says to me when I enter a social situation: “this is why people don’t like you”.

I am not writing this for pity, or to lament my lot. No. I’m writing this in defiance of my social anxiety. Because I am not going to let it be the way I define myself.

I started the podcast to force myself to approach and meet knew people. It’s a small thing but it’s a start.

The next step is in large groups, which is where that voice really has a field day. But here is the thing: I taught myself to accept imperfect writing when working on a first draft. I learned not to self edit. Is there any reason I can’t apply this to life? It used to be when I wrote, my inner critic would tear apart what I was writing as I wrote it. It was more than a little debilitating as far as writing goes. Because you can’t write well, when you think everything you write is shit. This has helped me to write more. I have allowed what I write on the first pass not to be completely amazing because I know I will fix the problems when I revise it. But I have managed to give myself permission for the writing to suck when I write a first draft. I allow it to be less than perfect, because I know I will fix it later. And I have learned not to listen to the voice of the inner critic.

The inner critic used to be a voice saying similar things to my anxiety voice. And I learned to put that voice in a box, so that I could get on with the things that mattered. So why can’t I do that with this?

So, that is my goal for the next little while. To learn not to listen to that voice.

Have you ever tried anything like this? How do you deal with social anxiety?

The Annual Navel Gaze: 2012

This was a big year for me. I did one of the scariest things I have ever done: I left my job and went on tour with Keystone Theatre. The tour took our show, The Last Man on Earth to Montreal, Winnipeg, Calgary and Edmonton. It was, as you might expect, amazing.

The play received great reviews everywhere we went, and I was able to see parts of the country that I have never seen before.

I returned to Toronto, and began the hunt for an awesome new job to replace the old awesome job, which continues even as I write this. I’ll admit that it has been difficult job hunting for this long, and that I’ve been struggling against feeling discouraged. I don’t know what the next year has in store for me, but it will be something great, I know that.

Job hunt aside, the last few months have been pretty awesome for my creative life. I finished writing a rough draft of a play. I had decided to write a play about a period of Canadian history, but to do so in a Shakespearean style, which was quite the challenge. For a while it looked like I might not finish the draft and then finally…I did! And then I put the play aside, to give myself a rest from it for a while. I have a couple more plays I am working on at the moment: an as yet unnamed play set in WWI, a one man play called A Murder, and a Christmas play that is something of a story telling venture (at least for now).

So, now to set some creative goals for myself for the next year:

  • Finish the WWI play and the Murder play.
  • Go back to work on the one man play The Commandment, and look at staging it for a limited run.
  • Complete and polish the Christmas play, and stage it next December.

And of course, there’s the other thing:

  • Find an awesome new job to replace the old awesome job.

Let’s plan to meet back here at this time to see how I did.

Theatre companies…we need to talk about email

Theatre companies and arts organizations…we need to talk about email and how you use it as a tool.

First, I know that email is an important tool for promoting your shows. You need to use it to help get the word out about the critical acclaim of a show, to help sell tickets to this show and to promote your upcoming shows. I get that.

But you really need to improve on how you are emailing.  Because you are risking pissing off potential ticket buyers and may soon be breaking the law.

First, let me give you an example. Let’s say I buy a ticket to one of your shows. I use your online portal to do so, and in the course of the transaction I provide my email address (which is standard practice so you can send me a receipt). The following week, I receive a promotional email from you. This is troubling, because nowhere in the transaction did you tell me that by buying a ticket you were going to sign me up to your mailing list.  So, I’m annoyed, but its one email, so I let it slide.  A few days later, I receive another. I’m a little more annoyed, but I let it slide because hey, its just two emails.  When I receive a third email a few days later, I am angry.  Because not only have you sent me email without asking for permission to do so, now you are sending me emails every few days.

Here’s another scenario. I start getting email about a show that’s happening locally.  I’m not sure how I got on the mailing list, but I am interested in local theatre, so I don’t mind.  But I get another email the next week.  This new email doesn’t really say anything different than the first, but there it is anyway.  And again, I wonder how I got on this mailing list, but like I said, I support local theatre, so that’s fine, but I am getting a little annoyed.  When I get another email, similar to the first two the following week, I get angry.  So I unsubscribe. But I’m still angry, because I don’t think I ever subscribed to your mailing list.

Theatre companies: you have to look at how you are populating your promotional mailing lists.  If you are putting people who happened to buy a ticket to your show, but didn’t ask them if they wanted to receive your emails, then you are not being a responsible emailer.  If you are a theatre company that adds anyone who sends a play submission or audition submission to your mailing list, you are being a bad emailer.  And in Canada, you need to watch out for this, because soon you may be subject to CASL (read up on it now, because you don’t want to be surprised by it).

You need to ask permission to send promotional email. Assume that aside from email receipts, the only emails you should send are ones where the recipients has given you permission to do so.

This is serious business. Trust me, nothing pisses off your customer more than an email they didn’t ask for. A pissed off customer isn’t likely to be a customer any longer.  Also, make sure that every time you send an email (to a subscriber base that has opted in) that you are saying something new; do not reiterate what you said last time.  That’s a good way to just annoy your subscriber. Annoyed subscribers are ex-subscribers and are people you can no longer reach.

Please, think about this.  I don’t enjoy unsubscribing, I don’t enjoy getting angry about email of all things, but you have to play your part, and follow some email marketing best practices.  Please. You’ll be doing yourself and your subscribers a favour.

That Churchill Quote

Lately, I’ve been seeing this posted around blogs and Facebook:

It was once suggested to Winston Churchill that he cut funding to the arts to pay for Britain’s war, to which he responded, “Then what would we be fighting for?”

It’s a great quote. I’ve seen it a few months ago from some American artists, when funding for the arts was being threatened in the US. I’m hearing it now, in Canada, after the funding cuts to Summerworks, which may herald a significant cooling in the government’s funding of the arts.

But did Churchill ever say that?

Back in August of last year, when the quote was first making the rounds on Twitter, I came upon this post, which asks:

“There are a number of versions of this story quoted around the internet—some adding blasphemies or swearing to the Churchill response—but none are traceable to an actual source or date. I am trying to determine whether Churchill actually said this and, if so, under what circumstances.”

In the comments from this post, there are people who say that it sounds like him, but that there may be no reference to this in any speech, biography or recorded writing.

If Churchill did say it (and I really do want to believe that he did), then it’s great that it’s being used by artists to support arguments for the continued funding of the arts. But if Churchill didn’t say it; if the quote is pure fiction or wishful thinking, then using it does no favours to the arts community. Using a made-up quote to back up the argument will merely serve the opponents of arts funding—they’ll be able to discount the argument being made if the quote is false.

Does anyone know if that quote is real? Is there a source for it?

If it’s not, maybe we need to rethink using it so frequently in our defense of arts funding. There are plenty of good reasons to continue funding for the arts without resorting to pithy quotations.

Saluting the Booth: Questions

Lately, I’ve been thinking about curtain calls in theatre.

For a long time, when seeing Fringe shows or smaller independent productions, I’ve noticed that during the curtain call, actors often “salute the booth.” That is, they acknowledge the stage manager — and, by extension, the rest of the crew — with a gesture similar to the one used to acknowledge a conductor after a musical performance.

In my opinion, this is a great practice. The crew works just as hard — if not harder — than the actors, and they absolutely deserve recognition.

But here’s what I’ve also noticed: when I go to larger productions, like a Mirvish show or something at Stratford, that salute doesn’t happen. There’s no acknowledgment of the booth. No nod to the crew.

So I find myself wondering:
Is saluting the booth considered “unprofessional” in larger venues?
If not, then why doesn’t it happen?
Why doesn’t everyone salute the booth?