Stage Nerves - A Fiction Piece for WRT 219

For my Creative Writing class we had to write a fiction piece about a ticking clock and something suspenseful. For the life of me I could not figure out what to write about until about 2 hrs before my class would start. I figured that I could be the character and that the suspense could be the clock ticking on the day of my first performance in Wicked which has yet to come and is thus fiction. I wrote this in about an hour or so and I'm actually really happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it. ENJOY!

Stage Nerves

The show time clock slowly ticks down and blinks red when the time lands on 7:00:00. Wardrobe, make-up, quick run throughs and voice warm-ups had taken hours but I’d been preoccupied during those times and hadn’t had the time to really dwell on the magnitude of the event that was taking place that night. Now I stand perched at the curtain, waiting nervously, impatiently, and excitedly, my mind whirling with thoughts in all forms of emotions. Waiting for the lines that signal my entrance onto the stage, I fidget nervously with the suitcase in my hand and the glasses placed on my nose.

My colleague sings beautifully, opening the performance with her melodic, operatic voice and her smiling grace and charm. She’d given me a hug and smiled big at me, reminding me that I was going to do great and that she’d be there with me throughout the whole thing. I’d smiled back pushing away the urge to cry from all of the emotions building up for fear of ruining the perfectly completed make-up on my face. Her being there with me the whole time is mostly true; she’d be on stage alongside me for much of the performance, but all I can think about are the many times where I will be alone. I can hear all that is going on but I am unable to steal a peak at the happenings on stage.

I look to the show time clock which has continued past its red 7:00:00 and ticks slowly counting each second, every single one. It captures me in its incandescent way and for an instant it is all I can think about. Quickly I remove my eyes from the mesmerizing form and focus again on the speaking of the performers on stage. They have moved past the first musical interlude and hurry into the meat of the background storyline, setting the stage for the leap back in time. That’s one of my favorite attributes of this production: the beginning is the present in the character’s terms and then it jumps to the distant past, then back to present, and then to a nearer past. The audience gets a background story to better understand the happenings of the nearer past and the present.

A word reaches my ear and I jump, afraid I missed my cue. I listen carefully and realize that it is only a similar line. Cautiously I look to the clock. After watching the clock during rehearsals I’d calculated that my entrance comes approximately nine minutes into the show. The digital clock shows 7:06:45, so I am able to relax a bit, trying to focus again on the speaking of my colleagues. Sigh, I actually have some time to try to get rid of my nerves. From as far back as I can remember I have never gotten nervous before going on stage. I have always found it so exciting that the idea of being nervous was pushed away. But now, even with the knowing that this will probably be one of the best moments of my life, I can’t seem to remove the nervousness that causes my heart to race and my stomach to churn. What if I miss a line? What if I forget the words to a song? What if I forget a prop or… The “what ifs” continue as I absent-mindedly stroke the inexistent wrinkles in my dark blue costume, straightening the already perfectly placed glasses once again.

Some of the crew members rush around preparing to bring back the piece that they’d reeled out moments ago. I move aside carefully, not wanting to be in the way, but too nervous to really think of where I’m going. My bones jump when I bump into something that catches me. Looking back slowly I realize it is my other colleague, my love interest in the production.

“Whoa there,” he whispers, holding my arms tightly as he makes sure I’m steady. “You wouldn’t want to knock yourself out before your first performance.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I whisper back, straightening my dress again and patting the cap on my head of black hair. He takes my hand, stopping my random antics and touches my cheek with his other one, causing my eyes to finally meet his face. I smile graciously at him, knowing what he’s about to say before he says it.

“Not a problem. Just take a deep breath and relax. You’re going to do great!” He smiles at me and then hurries off to get ready for his later appearance in the show.

I fix my off-kilter glasses, looking again at the luminous show time clock. The time ticks approaching 7:08:30. Panicked, I listen for the lines and discover my entrance is seconds away. My nervous motions and bumping had caused time to fly by and here I was seconds away from the night I had been preparing for for so long. The sheer magnitude of what was about to take place nearly overwhelmed me but the excitement and joy that I was doing something I had waited so long for beat out the nervousness and a smile etched its way across my face. My suitcase tightly in hand I wait as the doors open that allow me to run onto the stage full of enthusiasm. Though my heart is still racing, the butterflies in my stomach have disappeared and the thoughts of failure wiped from my mind.

The stage clock shows 7:09:15 and I smile even more, suppressing a laugh at the hilariousness of my time guessing. My colleague speaks the words “When we were both very young.” That’s my cue. I straighten my cap once again and hurry through the doors and onto the stage, smiling at the audience in front of me. Applause resounds through the theatre and I can feel the wetness at the corner of my eyelids. I look down at my hands to make sure that I am really there and that this is all really happening. Secretly I pinch my green-skinned hand and look up at the performers entering the stage for the next scene. This is real, this is happening, it isn’t a dream anymore. I am Elphaba on Broadway. WICKED!

Idina Menzel Called Me Gorgeous!

Oh my gosh!! So I have finally settled down enough to actually write about Idina's concert. Wednesday night I could barely speak a complete sentence let alone sit still for more than a minute, so writing my blog or in my journal was not possible. My mind has been able to process all that happened so hopefully I get it all down. Prepare for this to be long. :)
As soon as we drove onto the MSU campus, on our way to church dinner, my heart started racing and my excitement grew, evident by my random squeals and giggles. Mercy and family didn't quite understand my excitement during dinner, but Grace and mom shared the anticipation Christie and I were feeling. Time would not move fast enough.
Once at the Wharton Center, Chris and I waited patiently, unlike some others, for the doors to open. I asked around hoping that I could find some way to meet Idina, but everyone I asked told me that she was doing private meet and greets only. My heart sunk at this and my hope began to disappear. Christie continued encouraging me and telling me that I still had a chance to meet Idina. And even if I didn't get to meet her I was at least going to be in the same room as her, seeing her in person and hearing her voice.
We were finally allowed in around 7:30 when the show was planned to start. I expected to see Idina any minute. Nope. Some guys came out and sang songs for nearly a half hour. Chris and I were seriously antsy and getting a little annoyed at the unexpected delay of Idina's appearance. When he finally finished we waited almost 45 minutes in a weird intermission period, unsure of when Idina would appear. Finally at almost 9:00 Idina finally appeared. I broke down right when I saw her. Everyone around me was clapping and yelling, but I was sobbing tears of joy, so overwhelmed to see her there in front of me. Christie cried a little as she reminded me to look up at Idina since my crying was causing me to close my eyes. It was unbelievable.
She began singing and I continued crying until well into her second song. For the rest of the concert I just smiled, the smile never leaving my face and my eyes concentrated on Idina. She would blow kisses to the audience and I'd blow kisses back. She was everything I expected and so much more. Her personality and excitement blew me away. Whatever emotion I felt for her grew more as I was able to see her personality and the way she acted while on stage. She's more my role model now than before the concert; she's so great!
Here's as good a list I can make of what she sang: Brave, I Stand, Gorgeous, My Own Worst Enemy, There's Only Us (Rent), For Good (Wicked), a Hebrew prayer dedicated to her sister, a wedding song I didn't know, and one other song that I can't remember the title of.
She was so energetic on stage and during many songs was walking all around and even laying on the floor for one. Her presence and grace never ceased to amaze me. She left and I was sure she was done but the clapping and yelling of the crowd brought her back for an encore. "Something has changed within me..." she began and the whole crowd screamed. Defying Gravity was her encore piece and everyone loved it. When she had left for sure, my happiness began to fade, she was gone and my time with her didn't feel like enough.
Christie and I hurried up the stairs and then down the stairs to the main lobby. We rushed, running through the parking ramp, to the backstage door. Only a small crowd had gathered by the time we got down there and it grew behind us quickly. We waited for about 30 minutes before Idina's tour manager came out. She said that Idina was tired and that she would do autographs but that she (the manager) would prefer no personal, posing pictures because that was too time consuming and Idina was not a fan of candids so don't take random pictures of her autographing. We lined up and continued waiting. Christie was already 45 minutes late for work so mom took her, leaving me there. I was sad that Chris couldn't stay and be there when Idina came out.
After another 30 minutes or so Idina appeared, my role model. She came down the stairs and started signing. I held my spot and she got to me, signing this journal and my CD cover of her music. I searched for something to say, hoping I would speak clearly and not say something stupid. "You're my role model," I said to her, forcing back my tears of excitement. "Thank you," she said as she looked up at me, finished with the autographs. "Aww... you're gorgeous." I was stunned. Idina Menzel, my role model, called ME gorgeous! "Thank you, so are you," I said, giving her a quick hug. It felt like I was hugging a friend, not a tony award winning broadway star. I was the first person she hugged and the first that she really talked to. I walked a few feet away before breaking down in happy tears. I hurried to the car and jumped in, crying heavily while showing mom my autographs and telling her all that had happened.
This whole experience was so unreal and I wish I could live it over and over again. I wish that my time with Idina had been a little bit longer and that I could have at least one picture of her and me or even a video of my meeting her. It was so great! I have a new swing in my step now and a new hope for things to come in the future. I hope that I have another chance to see Idina and hopefully I'll be able to get a picture with her. But right now I'm happy to have all of the memories of November 5th, 2008 and the autographs that she signed. I'll never ever forget that day!

Emotional Thoughts

So I wrote a pretty emotional entry in my Elphaba journal the other day. I don't want to talk too much about it because it was quite personal but there are a few things I am willing to share.
I watched some Wicked behind-the-scenes videos on youtube with Idina, Kristin and crew and my need to be a part of Wicked seriously intensified with each one. My heart ached, my thoughts soared as I watched their experiences intently, wishing and hoping that I could be there; be a part of it. Happy tears came to my eyes as Idina showed off her "Wicked" dressing room adorned with wicked witch memorabilia she'd received from family, friends and fans. I thought about the wicked witch things I already own (not just Wicked memorabilia), many of which I have received from family and friends, and how great it would be to display those in my dressing room some day.
One drawing Idina pointed out was created by a young girl who wrote, "Idina, you are my role model. I want to be just like you." I seriously started crying. I thought about what an amazing feeling that would be to know that you are so important to someone who may only know of you and what you've done; to know that you are someone's role model.
Right after watching that video I nearly fell onto my bed in tears. I want this Wicked Broadway experience so much I can't even explain it. I can't describe in any words the desire, the want, the near need to be a part of this show. I wonder how many people think I'm crazy when it comes to Wicked, but then I would ask, "Is it wrong to dream; to dream big? Is it wrong to want something?" I know reality, I know normal, I focus on school, and I'm getting a degree in English, not theatre. I have a back up plan in case this whole Broadway thing fails, but I still want it and I'll work for it and try my hardest until there is nothing else I can do. I'm going to try my best and if I fail then at least I'll know I tried.
Be back in a few days with news of Idina's concert!