Voice acting: These pretzels are making me thirsty

As a copywriter, from time to time I have to audition voice talent for TV and radio spots. One of my duties is to write casting specs – short descriptions of what’s in my head for the characters that are given to the voice talent to guide them as they audition. Overall, I like to think that mine are pretty good. However, since I’ve become a voiceover artist myself, I’m wondering if my specs are as lacking as the ones I get on a regular basis.

Generally speaking, whether the audition is for an ad agency here in Atlanta or beyond, I get between two and 10 words about what they’re looking for in a character: “Masculine and serious,” “Southern cowboy-type, but not too gravelly.” But rarely do they include anything about what the character is thinking. The old Hollywood joke is “What’s my motivation?” Though it may be a joke, there’s definitely a kernel of truth in there. I want to know why my character is saying what he’s saying in a Southern cowboy-type, but not too gravelly voice. That definitely informs the way I read the dialog.

This reminds me of the classic episode of Seinfeld in which Kramer got a part in a Woody Allen film, with only one line: “These pretzels are making me thirsty.” As the characters discovered during the episode, even a simple line has a thousand possible reads. “These PRETzels are making me thirsty.” Or “These pretzels are making me THIRSTY.” Etc.

Most of the time when I get an audition, I run through about four or five takes to warm up my voice and get a feel for the cadence of what I’m supposed to read. Then I throw in a half dozen takes or so for me, how I’d do it if I’d written the spot. With a warm voice and my personal preferences out of the way, I get down to the real business. That’s when I do somewhere between two and 20 takes the way I think they want it done. Usually, in there somewhere is something I’m proud of.

Now, keep in mind that by this point I’ve probably done some 30 takes. So I go back into the pile and pull my favorites. Sometimes I throw in a Southern non-cowboy-type because I’ve been burned too many times. If I had a nickel for every spot I’ve auditioned for and given a pitch-perfect response to the requested game-show-host-type voice, only to see the spot on TV a few weeks later with a regular, subdued-guy voice instead of a game show host, I wouldn’t need to do voice overs to earn money.

This is when I send it out there, hoping to get a call from my agent checking my availability for the record date, hoping that the one take I chose to send out of the 30 or so is the one that best matches what was in the writer’s head. Of course, voice work is a numbers game; even the best voice actors can go 100 auditions between paying gigs. So I keep sending my stuff out there and hope and pray for a response. More often than not, though, I get nothing. Or perhaps it’s “I GET nothing.”? Or maybe it should’ve been “I get noTHING.” Or perhaps “I get nothing.”