Life: The karaoke train-wreck to come

Two years ago I did something I never thought I'd have the courage to do, I got up in a bar and sang a karaoke song solo. And I didn't suck.

People who know me in real life were shocked that I got up and sang. I have a well-deserved reputation as being the quiet/shy/reserved person in the group. In fact, shortly after Marriott first met me, she expressed concern that I was being left out of conversations because I wasn't talking much.

"Really?" I said. "I don't feel left out. I'm participating in my head."

And it was true, I had all sorts of comebacks and comments swirling in my head, but I don't always like to compete to be heard. Plus, sometimes, truthfully, all I'm doing is listening and there's not much else going on at a conscious level. Just processing. (Sounds a little vegetative, I know, but sometimes I just don't have anything to say.)

One thing that I have been vocal about with friends, though, is a fear of public speaking. It's kind of a nuisance, actually, because I'd like to be able to present workshops and the like some day, so every once in a while I do something totally scary just to shake things up. Like taking an acting class, or allowing myself to be brought up on stage, or singing karaoke.

Yes, back to the karaoke.

A few weeks after that first karaoke experience with our friends, we were having a party at our house. At some point, our friend Mike brought out his guitar along with an amp and microphone, and Dave brought out the iPod, and the evening turned into an impromptu sing-along night.

We had so much fun that two months later we planned an official karaoke party. Our friend Rod brought over his mixing board and speakers, we had two microphones, we set up the computer to play iTunes along with a scrolling lyric program called MiniLyrics. There was a lot of good and bad singing, and everyone seemed to have a blast.

A year ago February, we did it again, and all I can say that at 3 a.m., when most people had gone home, I was at the microphone attempting some Fleetwood Mac while Rod disassembled the set-up. And I was 100 percent sober.

Truthfully, I don't have much of a voice, but evidently I enjoy singing. (The church youth choir and the middle school swing choir didn't develop my voice so much as make me acutely aware of when I am flat, which is often.)

Which brings us to today. Less than 48 hours to go until our next karaoke party. Same setup as previous parties, but this year with a theme -- Awesome '80s. Instead of repeating songs from previous parties, we're encouraging everyone to try new material (that was Hilly's idea -- thanks Hilly. I think.)

Unfortunately, I didn't start thinking about what songs I want to sing and practicing until this week. And here is where a few problems come into play.

No. 1 -- I like to sing along to songs by male vocalists, and sometimes that comes across as strange. Past efforts on my part have been Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen, Here it Goes Again by OK Go, Mona Lisa by Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger, and Love You Madly by Cake. See, all those have been male. Sure, there was the Bree Sharp song, but that falls under problem No. 2 below.

No. 2 -- Some of my favorite songs are more obscure. Did you see the list above? Not many crowd-pleasers in that group. Someday I might have the right crowd for Metallica's version of Astronomy, but I'm pretty sure that only my car upholstery will ever get to hear me sing that. Way too long and niche.

No. 3 -- My favorite bands in the 80s were Rush, Pink Floyd, Guns N'Roses, Rush (again), Yes, Queen, Rush (again) -- you get the idea. Not necessarily the easy-to-sing, karaoke crowd-pleasing favorites, especially when sung by someone of the wrong gender. :)

So what am I preparing and practicing?

I tried to go for a fun song, so I'm working on Walk Like an Egyptian, which might come out OK. And my rendition of The Logical Song isn't so bad (yeah, it came out in 1979, so sue me). And just this morning, my husband talked me into doing Fun, Fun, Fun as a prelude to his Brian Wilson (both not '80s, but that's fine).

Then why do I say that karaoke is going to be a train-wreck?

Two reasons: Leather and Lace and Suddenly.

Leather and Lace is a Stevie Nicks song that I told Mike I would sing with him as a duet. No real recording backing us, though. Nope. Mike's playing his guitar. It's all us. Gulp. Let's just say this song is challenging for me. But that's not even the real train wreck.

The real train wreck waiting to happen is Suddenly. I was dying to sing with Mark (who has a to-die-for Neil Diamond voice) and for some reason agreed to do Suddenly with him. But I am definitely no Olivia Newton-John. It's way out of my vocal range and so far my practice sessions in the car have produced voice-cracking abominations that not even my upholstery appreciates being exposed to. Ugh. I definitely need to call Mark and bag on this -- or drink a lot at the party.

OK, so 48 hours of practice to go. Pray for me. :P

I'll let you know how the party turns out, and whether I bagged on Suddenly. In the mean time, in writing this post, I discovered Last.fm. I made a handy-dandy widget of the songs I've been talking about, plus a few extras that might show up in a sing-along/karaoke post in the future.

My worst nightmare actually turned out kind of funny

Public speaking. A common enough phobia.

Friends and co-workers told me that I actually wasn't aweful at it. That I hid my nervousness well. But I didn't feel that way. I'm terrified at the thought of getting up in front of people and not knowing what to say.

Last year I took a few classes to help me feel better prepared for public speaking. I was tired of feeling limited by my fears.

I took a four-week presentations class at the local community college, then followed that up with a five-week acting for non-actors class. Funny thing was, people who do a lot of public speaking were terrified at the idea of taking the acting class with me. Personally, I saw no difference. Public speaking was public speaking -- terrifying no matter what kind. So I took that acting class alone.

And I discovered that I wasn't too bad. Some people actually said I was funny. Quiet, little me -- funny?

Anyway, that's a long lead-in to this story.

Labor Day. Five weeks ago. Wookie was in town (thank you for the photos!) and a group of us went to the closing day at the Bristol Renaissance Faire.

We decided to watch a show for a comedian/acrobat named MooNiE. Very funny. He doesn't talk much at all -- most of the show is communicated through body language.


Then MooNiE brought someone up on stage to help with a skit. As I watched, I ran through the possibilities in my head: What if I get dragged up? Unlikely, since we're near the back. But what if? Obviously, play along. He wants his skit to succeed and won't set it up for failure. But, WHAT IF? You've taken a class. You've done improvisation comedy. You can handle it. Just play along and roll with it.

Good thing I had that internal dialogue. Because, not three minutes later, MooNiE tapped me on the shoulder to go on stage with him.

Deep breath. Carefully give sunglasses and purse to husband. Calmly walk up to the stage. Ignore the crowd. Watch MooNiE for cues.

Thank you, he mouths to me.

I smile. (I'm pretty sure I smile.)

He produces two red paper cocktail napkins. Hands one to me. Keeps one himself. Indicates I should follow his example.

Twist. Twist. Twist. Make a tiny tear. Twist. Twist. Twist. Shape the top.

OK, I'm doing my best to follow.

He shows me his napkin. It now looks like a pretty little red rose. A look of flirtatious pride lights his face.

I show him my napkin. It now looks like a limp and twisted red paper cocktail napkin. He looks crestfallen. The crowd laughs. He takes my napkin and tosses it aside.

Then he makes a big to-do about presenting me with the rose. He offers it, then pulls it away. Offers it again. I play along. Each time trying to take it, knowing that he'll flirtatiously pull it away again. Each time the crowd laughs. Each time I laugh.

He gets down on one knee and offers the rose. He kisses my cheek then offers the rose. Then he indicates that I should kiss his cheek.

It's blazing hot. There's sweat dripping down his face. I feel the need to improvise. Oh, no. I look reluctant. I reach forward and wipe the sweat from his cheek. Ah-ha! He laughs.

He runs forward, grabs a towel and wipes his face. He returns to me and presents his now-dried cheek. OK. I lean forward to kiss him.

He turns his head. I end up kissing his lips. D'oh! I didn't see that coming. I *should* have seen it coming.

I laugh. The crowd laughs. He hands me the rose and leads me off stage.

Whew! I'd survived.

"You did good," my husband said as I sat down. "You were funny."

"I've never seen anyone do that before," said the stranger next to me, who's evidently seen the show multiple times before.

I was happy. I'd face my fear. I hadn't died onstage. Two years ago, I never would have done it. But, that day, my worst nightmare actually turned out kind of funny.

Karaoke madness Part 2

Did you see Karaoke madness Part 1? That was all about our first foray into karaoke -- the bad, the not-so-bad and the almost entertaining. Well, this is Part 2, where, using a microphone, an amp and an iPod, we improvise karaoke in the comfort of our own home... Scary stuff. But we had a blast. (Joanne, I hope you don't mind that this is what became of your birthday party.)

Dave did the most singing. I cannot even begin to recount all the things he attempted. There was punk with Kelly, and crooning ala Sinatra and even a little Barenaked Ladies "If I had a million dollars" duet with Kyle.

Me, for my part, I attempted a little Harvey Danger "Flagpole Sitta", a reprise of Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love", and Me First and the Gimme Gimmes' "Mona Lisa". At least improvised karaoke seems to be well in the spirit of a Me First and the Gimme Gimmes song. (If you haven't discovered this group yet, you're missing something.)

Just to show that we weren't the only people falling prey to the inspiration of our muses, here are Mike and Hilly. Mike was the whole reason we had the microphone and amp. They didn't need an iPod to back them up, as Mike supplied actual talent with the guitar. And Hilly displayed a nice set of pipes.

For some reason, though, Lesley didn't get up and sing. Conveniently for her, we forgot that she actually had some voice training in opera. Just so you know, Lesley, there will be a next time. Even though you've escaped back to New York on your way to England, there will be a next time. You will sing for us. LOL

Karaoke madness

I did something that qualifies as totally scary for me: I sang karaoke solo in front of a group of about 30 people on Saturday night.

Sure, it was about 1:30 a.m. and I'd been warmed up by singing, as part of a group, "American Pie" (now that's an exhausting song to sing -- all eight-plus minutes of it), but it was a major accomplishment for me.

What did I sing? A favorite of mine: Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love.

Several (I mean several) years ago, I went up with my sister and someone else and mutilated the same song in a karaoke setting, and then there was that contribution to the "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" ensemble at a Christmas party years ago, but this was my first solo endeavor. I think I can say with confidence that I didn't suck this time. All that practicing in the car over the years must have paid off (apologies to any other drivers who might have overheard me).

This time, when I went up there, I tried to remember my successes in my acting class, and when the lyric "I gotta be cool, relax" came up, I took it to heart.

I wasn't the only person in the family to brave the waters with solo karaoke. Dave "the crooner" did Sinatra's "Summerwind", Van Halen's "Ice Cream Man" and Radiohead's "Creep". I have to say that his "Summerwind" was a big crowd-pleaser.

So, my scary goal for June has been met. Now I need to backtrack and collect that goal for May. I will yet master a manual transmission.

What's next?

Acting for non-actors is over. If you haven't noticed yet, I really enjoyed the class (see Forte for comedy? and Surprisingly fun) . The exercises, while scary at times, were entertaining, and the people were a blast. (I'd even met one of them many years before when I was a reporter and he worked for one of my school districts.)

The whole experience certainly was a confidence booster. In fact, the instructor told me at the end of the class tonight that I was good and ought to consider going for auditions. I'm not so sure I'm up for that -- it wasn't my goal in taking the class in the first place -- but I might take the class again in the fall. Anyone want to take it with me? I highly recommend it.

There are no big stories to tell from tonight's class, but here's a new tongue-twister: Listless Mr. Smith dismissed his Christmas mistress. Try to say that one without sounding like a hissing snake.

Now that the class is over, and it's almost May, I need to start looking for a new challenge that pushes me. It might be time to learn how to drive a manual transmission. (Honey, did you read that? I might be ready to learn how to drive your car...)

A forte for comedy?

Someone in my acting class last night said the most unexpected thing. In front of the class, she said, and the rest of the class agreed: "You have a forte for comedy."

Let me put this in context.

This was the beginning of our fourth session of class. We'd each been handed a recipe for a food item. Mine was apple oatmeal muffins. Based on the recipe, we each had to go up and improvise a scene. Some people pretended to be teaching a cooking class, one pretended to be teaching an American culture class, one did a commercial and a few of us did television shows.

I went last, and I improvised a show called "Cooking Disasters with Haley: Where instructions are optional and ingredients are dictated by what's in the pantry". I went on to do things like substitute baking soda for baking powder, and use old eggs, questionable milk and rancid smelling oil. I forgot to preheat the oven and didn't have muffin tins, so used a loaf pan instead. When the "muffins" failed the tooth-pick test, I served them anyway -- with a spoon.

As I sat down, one of the women, Paula, said to the class: "I don't know, Haley. When you started this class, you said it was because you had anxiety. Well, I don't see that. You've come out of your shell, and you certainly have a forte for comedy."

Comedy? Really? Me?

When the rest of the class agreed, I smiled, gave a nervous laugh and explained that I was a quivering mass inside. (I was. I had a cold sweat going, my pulse was racing and I was thrilled to be sitting down again.)

Later on in the class, we did another improvisation exercise. This time we planned a skit together (there were six of us). We were to pretend to be a group of 7-year-olds on a field trip to the Art Institute. There, a docent would lead us on a tour, and an older patron would complain about our noise, etc.

Every once in a while, the teacher likes to shake up the improvisations by giving one of the actors secret instructions. She gave me instructions that I was to "vandalize" one of the paintings.

So, during the improv, I complained that art was boring, asked when we could eat lunch, wandered away from the group, tried to touch everything, figited when told to sit down, and when no one was paying attention, started to draw a flower on one of the impressionist paintings. I was trying to make it look "better". The skit ended when the alarms went off and we were escorted from the room.

Surprisingly, everyone told me that I'd successfully "transformed" myself into the character and that I made a very believable mischievous child.

So, I had two successes of the night that I never expected.

There's only one class left. I'm not sure that I'll pursue acting anymore, nor audition for anything, but I've enjoyed myself and certainly gotten a boost out of it.

And some stories to tell.

I have a forte for comedy? No one will ever believe it.

Acting class = surprisingly fun

I wrote last month that my scary goal for March (and April) was to take a five-week "acting for non-actors" class through my local community college. I thought it might teach me some techniques to help with my anxiety over public speaking.

Just like the presentations class I took in February, the common refrain for avoiding anxiety was to "be prepared and know your material." Beyond that, we've worked on lessons in observation, memorization, enunciation and improvisation. (I do like those "ion" words!) We've also worked on breathing, using the senses, body language, emotional recall and understanding stage direction.

One of my favorite exercises in the class is saying tongue-twisters to practice enunciation and projection. Try to say "unique New York" or "mixed biscuits" five times fast. If you want to be particularly tricky, try some of these:

"I split the sheet,
the sheet I split,
upon the slitted sheet I sit."

"Whether the weather be cold
or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather
whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not."

Or, the one I had the most trouble with: "The Leith Police dismisseth us". Dismisseth is just not a word meant to be spoken aloud...

What surprised me about the class is that I don't mind the improvisation exercises. Think of the television show Whose Line is it Anyway? but lower your expectations A LOT. One, two or a group of us will go in front of the class and be presented with a situation, and then we have to make up the scene as we go.

I can't boast that I'm overly entertaining (although I do hear laughter at times) but I don't think I suck, either. I think improvisation is sort of like, as an author, writing a scene of dialogue. It's a matter of turning off the internal editor and just going with the thoughts that pop into your head. And, when you go blank, letting your partner take the lead for a little while, then you work off of what he or she has said.

I confess, I have many moments of "I can't do this. I suck at this." but I've gotten through those moments and actually found it enjoyable. Sometimes I have to refrain from volunteering for every exercise. There are nine of us. I need to let the others have a chance!

Another exercise that I liked, we did on the first day of class. We played a game to practice both our listening skills and our memorization skills. We turned our backs to the class, then took turns introducing ourselves and saying one thing about ourselves. What did we notice about the people? What did we remember about the people?

Then, facing the class, going clockwise, we took turns introducing ourselves again, this time with a different piece of information. But there was a twist: when it came to be our turn, before introducing ourselves, we had to say what the people in front of us had said. When it was my turn, I had to remember that Jackie liked Jazz, Natalie liked art, Anna had a dog named Gibson and Joe liked to golf. There were only seven of us in class that night, so it wasn't that difficult. But, since I'm horrible at remembering people's names, I liked the practice. I was interesting, too, to learn about the devices people used to remember the names. Me? Maybe the reason I suck at remembering names is that I rely on straight memorization, instead of associating people with other people, words or situations.

Now there are two classes left. Looking at the syllabus, it looks like we'll be working on character development next week, and vocal interpretation in two weeks. Be on the lookout for future reports.

Coming out of the closet

No, I'm not gay.

But I am shy. (See my previous entries about my scary goals)

Just last week, I mentioned my blog to my husband. "You have a blog?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "And a web site."

"You have a web site?"

"Don't you remember? I registered my domain name a few years ago? I told you then."

"I remember you registered your domain name, but I didn't know you had a web site. Or a blog."

OK, I confess, I've been keeping my online work extremely low-key. I'm here to promote a book that I haven't sold yet. There's not much to promote, really. It's more of a time investment in the future.

But, I didn't realize that I'd kept it so low-key that my own husband didn't know about it. Surely, I'd mentioned it at some point... right?

This weekend we went on a family getaway to Lake Geneva with my mother, my sister and her family, and my aunt and uncle. We had a fun time hanging around our rented house with a lake view. We spent many hours talking, eating and drinking, and playing games.

My husband, evidently still reeling from the news of my online adventures, announced: "Did you know that Haley has a web site and a blog?"

"You do?"

"Well, " I said, "It's nothing major. Just something I've been playing around with. Kind of amateur, really."

Fortunately (or is that unfortunately?), the rental house had a computer with online access and I was able to take my sister for a tour. My uncle asked for the address and intends to look it up later.

Gulp. My secret is out. My family now knows I have an online presence, no matter how small it may be. (I think I'm up to 50 hits on this site. It really is small.)

So my family knows, and a former co-worker has found me. What's next? A major publisher with an offer for a three-book contract? (What? A girl can dream, can't she?)

Something scary for March

It's a new month and time for a new scary goal.

February's scary goal was taking a non-credit "Effective Presentations" class. I finished that class Feb. 20 with a 14-minute talk and Power Point presentation on "Understanding the Romance Novel." Hey, why not use it as an opportunity to practice talking about something I hope to speak more about in the future?

I have to say that the presentation went very well. Good comments from the instructor included: great intro, attractive Power Point, quotes, pictures of actual books, nice graph and presentation of data, good Q&A session, good eye contact and props, loud and slow.

Constructive comments included: plant my feet and don't cross them, breathe (she joked that she started looking for a brown paper bag for me), nervous at beginning, a few "ums" and I needed an ending summary slide.

My impression from taking the class is that I can write decent presentations that hold people's interest, I just need to practice and concentrate on channeling my nervous energy.

This leads me to my March scary goal idea: taking a five-week non-credit "Acting for Non-Actors" class.

The catalog describes it like this: "Boost your self-confidence in social situations by learning the skills that actors use. Through a variety of acting exercises and improvisations, develop expressiveness, concentration and powers of observation."

I haven't registered yet. Stay tuned for updates.

Something scary...

In 2004 I made a goal to do something scary every month. Something that challenges me. I haven't been particularly good about following through on that goal, but periodically I try. This year, with that goal in the back of my mind, I enrolled in a professional development class at College of DuPage on "Effective Presentation Skills".

Public speaking terrifies me. I mean turn to jelly and feel my heart race. Cold sweat. Mind goes blank.

I've always avoided jobs that put me in front of people. Hence the newspaper jobs and the technical writing. Lately, I've decided that I'm tired of being limited by that silly fear of public speaking, especially if I want to get out there and promote myself as a writer. If a non-credit, four-week class can teach me a few strategies for dealing with my fear, then it's worth the agony.
Surprisingly, the class hasn't been so bad.

Week 2's assignment was a 5-10 minute demonstration speech. My presentation was about 7 minutes on clicker training a dog to do a trick. Audience response and feedback were excellent.

Week 3's assignment was a 2-3 minute intruduction of a speaker or product. I pretended we were at a romance writers conference and I was introducing a workshop. Again, I had excellent audience response and feedback.

Positive comments from both assignments have far outweighed the areas of improvement. People in the class say: I have a good podium presence with nice eye contact and natural posture and hand gestures; my subjects have been interesting and well organzied, with good use of props and handouts where appropriate; and my voice quality has been relaxed, strong and clear.

However, I do need to slow down a bit, eliminate the one or two "ums" that sneak in, and remember to breathe and smile.

I must be better at hiding my nervousness than I thought.

Now, we're on to Week 4's assignment, which is a 12-15 minute informational speech using Power Point.

My topic is still undecided. I think I want to do something about the Romance industry, probably using some of the reader stats RWA has compiled. But my husband pointed out that I could do a historical subject also - something utilizing my research for the book.

My scary goal

*This was originally posted to my private website, but moved here after I started this blog.

A new goal of mine this year is to stretch myself every month by doing something that is scary to me. In February, I fulfilled that goal at my day-job by helping to conduct a customer training session for a software product.

This month, I’m stretching myself by offering my query letter for a public critique by an editor at the Windy City Writers Retreat this upcoming weekend.

Can you tell that what is scary to me involves putting myself in a public situation? It’s a fear I’m tired of having, and one I don’t see as being in line with my career goal, which is, of course, being a multi-published author.

My skin is pretty tough already when it comes to taking critiques on my written work. Now I need to toughen it up when it comes to putting myself in public situations. I’ll let you know how the critique goes, and perhaps I’ll even publish my query letter on this site if it passes muster.