The fantastic Tahira is now available on Steam, amongst other platforms! You can hear me there having a blast voicing a number of villainous rogues, as a counterpoint to the amazing Gemma Laurelle’s work as Tahira herself. Here’s the launch trailer:
Here were are in the last of four posts containing everything I can think to say about how to become a voice actor, right now. As always, take the advice here with a grain of salt, as this is only what works for me, and what I understand at this point in time. I may have an epiphany in the shower next Thursday and realise that only now do I really understand what’s going on. If that happens though, I promise to let you know.
In the final post, we’re going to talk about being a good freelancer. Because once you’ve built a process around your creative development, and you’re actively doing what you love, you’re going to get to a point where you need a solid approach for dealing with the people who want you to make great things for them.
It started fairly accidentally to begin with, but being a better freelancer is something that I’ve been working on for the last eight years. I’m sure it means very different things to very different people, but the core of it for me is a combination of attitude and building systems, the latter of which being where we started talking in the first post.
This is the second in a series of posts on what I can think of as the most useful information on becoming a voice actor/voice over artist/person who gets paid to talk into a microphone. This post focuses on understanding the creative process better, in order to build tools and avoid mental traps in a field that asks a lot of you creatively.
Now, these posts come with a huge caveat. They’re what’s worked for me, and that may not work for you. And it’s the best advice I have right now, so next Thursday I may have an epiphany that throws half of what I know out the window. But if I do have that epiphany, I promise to share it with you.
(cue Inception noise thanks to the circular title)
So, this is the third in a series of posts emptying the cup of everything I know about being a voice actor thus far. In this article I’m going to be talking about performing. As always, take the advice here with a grain of salt.
I only know what works for me, and if you ask me next month, I’ll tell you that this is the month I’ve finally built a robust set of tools around performance.
This is the first in a short series of posts where I’m putting down what I would travel back through time to tell myself, in order to become a voice actor/voice over artist/person who talks in front of a microphone and gets paid for the privilege QUICKER.
Everything written here comes with a big caveat: it’s what worked for me, and it’s my answer so far. It may not work for you, and I may have an epiphany next Thursday that throws everything here out the window. If said epiphany comes, I promise to let you know.
This first post is about what I think is the first, most critical step to lay infrastructure down for moving forward as quickly as you can:
Last week was AWESOME. It was an absolute prince of weeks where a number of great opportunities presented themselves unsolicited, I had some great training sessions with vocal coaches, took part in a week-long marathon of classes at the Actor’s Lab, and got to catch up with some of my favourite people. I’ve been steadily building my regular practice brick by brick, adding components as they’re suggested by mentors. I’d included (I thought) care and maintenance to make sure that I can keep the engine running, as well.
But on the Saturday at the end of that week, I got knocked down with food poisoning. It’s most likely a coincidence, as it’s difficult to give yourself food poisoning, but the timing bears thinking about. Many years ago, when I was a rather different person, I might have taken a few mental health days at the end of a stretch like that to hide away and recover; recharge the batteries. But that’s most definitely not the person I am now. Losing three days to feeling horrible and doing nothing sucked, to be frank, and I wanted– no, needed to spin back up all of the plates I had in motion and get into the thick of things.
Personally, I think the best kind of project is when you surround yourself with incredibly talented people and hustle as hard as you can in the hope that no one notices that you probably shouldn’t be there, because seriously, THE AMAZING PEOPLE THAT YOU’RE WORKING WITH.
AUTHENTIC IN ALL CAPS is one of those projects. I talked in my newsletter earlier this year about the experience of recording for the project, but I’m super-amped to be able to tell you that AUTHENTIC IN ALL CAPS is now available in the App Store for iPad. Here’s why I’m excited:
So here I am at 1AM in the morning writing my wrap-up of GenreCon Oz. It might seem like I’m being fashionably late here, but my GenreCon only ended officially around 1:30 Wednesday morning, and today has been lost to flying home, and trying to shrug off a lingering hangover.
So how was GenreCon? My capsule review is that it was AMAZING. It’s back on again in 2015, and if the Venn diagram of your life connects with writing (or, hell, being a creative) I’d recommend it. It’s put a fire in my belly, and got me thinking real hard about heading to Faffcon, the closest equivalent in the voice over world. It was a blur of passion and connection and meeting old friends and new, and sharing enthusiasm, ideas, and potential ways to play together. And a solid backbone of REALLY GREAT ADVICE. For me, the convention occurred half in the Library proper, and half in the discussions into the wee hours of the morning in bars, or San Churro. It turns out churros are the hook in the cheek to drag anyone into hanging out.