When I first moved to New York in 2018, fresh-faced with my BFA in hand, my college professor told me to go to every audition I could.
On a typical day, I’d arrive at Pearl Studios around 6am. The line wrapped around the corner of the block where we’d wait, snow or rain or shine, until we were allowed into the lobby at 8am. I’d stuff into an elevator and file into a dance studio with white fold-up chairs lining the edges in a weird unorganized semicircle.
An amazing place to people watch under the buzz of large fluorescent lights. The rush of people signing their name on the piece of paper and snagging seats— for them and for their huge bag. The heat coming off hair irons as you got closer to the mirrored walls. The smell of Tarte concealer. Mmm, yes— the holding room. ✨
There were two types of auditioners: the first was very loud and very boisterous, almost like the holding room was their living room where they were throwing a dinner party. They’d laugh loudly and vocalize freely. There was a blind cockiness to this group— one I both hated and desperately envied. The second was very reserved, almost in a freaky way. You’d see them sort of shrink into themselves becoming smaller, legs crossed, hunched over, thumbing through their sheet music, or on their phones, doing anything they could to stay invisible.
One was not better than the other. These are just some of the ways you cope when placed in an audition room with 300 people who look too much like you, all fighting for one job that won’t pay well anyway. Here, in the holding room, is where all of my authenticity and individuality drains and I’m left with a bunch of clumpy mascara and skin, all barely held together by sheet protectors and LaDuca straps.
This is the front door— the path we’re told to go down to get to where we think we should be.
I get a kind of weird hopeless/hopeful feeling at the front door. It’s both utterly impossible and overwhelming, but then there’s that glimmer of hope. What if I am the unknown star that is seen amidst all of the others? What if I am the one in a million? It’s the glamorized main character energy we see in every good romcom. The story of luck. It’s a little like winning the lottery, which I suppose works for some people.
But after a year of showing up early, waiting outside, and sitting in the holding room, I realized it wasn’t working for me.
There had to be another way in. There had to be a window or a back door or little doggie flap I could squeeze through. I wanted to be myself and feel empowered.
So I switched tactics. Instead of open auditions, I started to focus on reaching out to people. Day after day a new person. I started to think in reach outs. I reached out to casting directors, authors, playwrights, and actors whose work I admired. I reached out to agents, founders, and friends I'd wanted to be around. I started asking, directly, for what I really wanted, becoming braver with each email.
Soon enough casting directors asked me to come in for specific roles, playwrights included me in readings of their new plays, artists I’d admired became friends and mentors. An amazing agent signed me and then I stopped going to the holding room so often.
I found my back door. I realized I didn’t have to be the smartest or most beautiful or most talented person in the holding room, but I could be the most resourceful. I could be the one paying close enough attention to know that there had to be a different way to get where I wanted to go.
One pandemic later
Now, I work in tech and, though I don’t perform in the same ways I used to, I see the front door all the time. LinkedIn is a good example. There are those who post every single day— almost as if they think in pro-tips and little lessons. There are also those who skulk around quietly, shrinking into themselves, hoping to go unnoticed. There are job postings with thousands of applications all within 24 hours and just like that, I can feel my energy draining, like I’m right back in the holding room.
I prefer to spend my time elsewhere, looking for cracked windows and side entrances I could sneak my way into… Since pivoting, I’ve found every opportunity this way, from staring the Reach Out Party to joining two startups.
I’m not alone. There are countless examples of people who have created their own entrances to access a life-changing opportunity. Here are just a few favorites from some people I’ve seen do this exceptionally well:
Marcel F. is currently shooting his shot in public by tagging Netflix in a post sharing why he’s the perfect person for a job and the massive response from the LinkedIn community is so COOL.
Taylor Harrington met a guy named Bob at an event her freshman year of college. After keeping in touch for four years she found out he happened to live in the same building Seth Godin’s office was in. Bob introduced them and Taylor got a job working at Akimbo on their first call.
Ben Lang joined Notion early (<15 person team) with no job description by buying domain names related to Notion, launching a Facebook group for Notion users, and pretending he was visiting SF so that he could meet the founders.
Sarah Kleist used to design fake business websites for fake people and use them in a portfolio to show her work so that she’d get new clients. Now she’s designed 150+ real sites for real people and is booked out months in advance.
Gonzalo Nuñez remixed a chapter in the very first programming book he ever read in high school that inspired him to build a basic app. He started sharing it with people and it resulted in every job he’s had since– including grooveshark, pixar, and airbnb.
Rachel Johnson randomly met her cofounder as a hostess at Outback Steakhouse. Now they run a successful law firm with over two offices and 12 employees. They also still enjoy a good Bloomin’ Onion together. (Shoutout to Rachel’s substack launch this week
!!)Kyle Hagge got his job at Morning Brew by sending an entire onboarding process he’d built to the hiring manager, unprompted, during the interview.
Cam Houser is on the most intentional and wild job search I’ve ever seen. He designed a 1-pager of career highlights instead of a resume and is asking his network to help him find his next move.
I love these stories. I try to keep track of them and use them as inspiration because it isn’t nearly as easy and fun as it looks.
Going against the grain is vulnerable, personal, and emotionally draining. It takes time and a significant amount of effort. And even though sometimes it works, sometimes it will fall flat and then it’s up to you to try again.
That is the thing about the back door– you have to be brave enough to put yourself out there and be seen. You have to be resourceful and put your own courage before your fears. You have to ask for help. You have to stop thinking about what could go wrong and let yourself dream about what could go right.
You have to think outside the box and see beyond the holding room.
THIS THIS THIS! ✨ This feels like you all wrapped up in a post and I absolutely love that. Like if someone asks me, what's Carly like? I wanna link to this. Absolutely love your intentionality in your reach outs and connecting the dots to get where you want to go.
“I started asking, directly, for what I really wanted, becoming braver with each email.”
I love this.
I’m working through internalizing this myself. You can have whatever you want, but not before you want it enough to say it with your whole chest.