Personal

All Talk and Nothing to Say

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Internet, Journalism & Media, Personal 6 Comments

Five years ago I got in serious trouble with some of my readers.

“What else is new?” you may ask.

Did I write about amateurism in voice overs, insultingly low rates, or about greedy Pay-to-Plays?

Nope.

The topic was podcasting, or rather my ambivalence toward podcasts.

To be honest with you, I’d rather read an article than listen to forty minutes of blah-blah-blah. I can scan an article or blog post in a short amount of time. I search for keywords, and skip the fluff. Done. On to the next one. I think I’m too impatient for most podcasts.

Since I wrote the story in 2015, the number of VO-related podcasts has increased considerably, and I have to admit that many of them are a joy to listen to.

I’ve been interviewed by a multitude of hosts, and my experience has always been very positive. Yet, there are only a handful of podcasts I regularly tune into, and they’re seldom about voice overs. Why?

I think It’s very important for a well-rounded VO (and I’m not talking about our waistline), to step outside of our blah blah bubble, and skip the talk about which microphone is best and how to get an agent. There’s a whole wide world out there filled with information and inspiration. Constant navel-gazing isn’t going to help us learn and grow as a human being.

This week, a Dutch podcast forum asked me about my experiences with podcasts. Do I have any faves, pet peeves, or tips?

This is what I wrote.

Let me start my story with a confession.

My roots are in radio.

That’s both a blessing and a curse. It means I can no longer listen to podcasts with an open, carefree mind. I listen the way a music critic listens to a concert. With super critical ears. Luckily I can turn the darn thing off as soon as I get bored.

In addition you should know that I’ve been a voice over for more than thirty years. This has made me allergic to badly written scripts, stupid slips of the tongue, loud, distracting breaths, and poorly recorded audio.

I’ve also made a living as a journalist, presenter, and media trainer. I know a little bit about interviewing guests. How to do it, and how not to do it.

All of the above means that many podcasts are just not my thing, even though I love the medium dearly. My favorite podcasts offer theater between the ears allowing my imagination to run wild. When I’m listening, I’m not distracted by flashing images on television which makes it easier to focus on the content.

I love the freedom podcasts give me. I usually listen when I have boring things to do like the dishes, yard work, house cleaning, long drives, or running on the treadmill. What do I listen to? Mostly radio shows.

PODCAST FAVORITES

This year marks my 20th anniversary of living and working in the USA. To stay connected to what’s happening in Holland (where I’m from), I listen to a show called Met het oog op morgen, (Keeping an eye on tomorrow). It’s a daily roundup of news, current affairs, and background stories.

As a former newscaster I’m always on the lookout for people who can interpret what’s going on in the world today. I want to know what motivated this person to make that statement, and what the implications are. That’s why I often tune in to the Brian Leher Show on WNYC, a New York City-based public radio station. Brian is a progressive interviewer who has an uncanny ability to ask pointed questions in a friendly and respectful way.

When I want to know more about art, literature, and music, I turn to Fresh Air, a legendary talk show with Terry Gross. Terry is considered a national treasure in the US, and for good reason. She’s been on national radio since 1975, and her show can be heard all over the United States. She’s known for her empathic, intelligent way of interviewing her guests.

For philosophy and science I listen to Radiolab with Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich. Jad composes the experimental music which is like a running commentary on the theme of the show. Apart from interviews with people such as neurologist Oliver Sacks, conversations between the hosts are also part of the program. Radiolab is exquisitely immersive and never fails to make me think.

PROBLEMS WITH PODCASTS

There are very few “real” podcasts (as opposed to regular radio shows) I can listen to without cringing. Usually, that’s because of three things:

1. Amateurs “playing radio.”

Bad audio quality is the first clue. The recording space is often too noisy, everyone is miles away from the microphone, and guests are mumbling their answers. After hearing the first twenty seconds I ask myself: “What on earth am I listening to?”

Podcast producers who actually know what they’re doing realize that they have to compete with “real” radio programs. Award-winning podcasts have a team of researchers, editors, script writers, and sound engineers that take their job seriously.

In the next few years the difference between hobbyists and professionals making podcasts will increase dramatically. The consumer will have even more to choose from, and won’t have to settle for kitchen table productions.

2. Hosts that are overly self-involved.

Podcasts seem to attract people that like to hear themselves talk, but who have very little to say. I’m thinking of the unfunny folks who believe they’re God’s gift to comedy, and who have trouble getting to the point. I call them “self-arousers” because the sound of their own voice makes them horny as hell.

The best interviewers don’t make themselves the star of the show but focus on the guests. They don’t stick to a list of pre-cooked questions. They listen carefully to the answers and follow up. This is not an easy thing to do. You’ve got to get people talking, you’ve got to learn to keep your mouth shut, and you have to jump in at the right moment with the right questions.

3. Weak content

Before you read the next line I’d like you to do a quick experiment while recording yourself. Choose a topic you’re interested in at the moment. Have a stopwatch ready, and when you press START, talk for one minute straight offering relevant information. No hesitations, no filler words, and no ums.

Ready. Set. GO!

Most people who do this experiment notice how hard it is to fill just one minute fluently, while keeping the audience engaged as they’re trying to make sense.

I often tell my students:

“If you want people to be interested, you have to be interesting. Your topics and your guests have to be interesting.”

Too many podcasts are of the category “much ado about nothing,” hosted by lazy, self-absorbed hosts that allow their guests to yammer on and on and on.

If you’re reading producing podcasts, you know it requires quite an investment to produce an outstanding show on a weekly basis. That’s why it is almost impossible to listen to your own shows with impartiality. It’s also the reason I recommend you get yourself a feedback group of people who know what they’re talking about. Do not ask family and friends who will love everything you say and do, no matter what.

You need the critical ears of those who will tell you what you don’t like to hear.

The ears of people like me.

People with roots in radio.

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

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My 3-hour X-session Boosting Your Business with a Blog at VO Atlanta is now on sale. I’ll teach you all the blogging secrets that made the Nethervoice blog one of the most widely read VO blogs in the business, and my website the number one individual VO site on the web. Only 12 seats available! Click here to sign up.

Incompetent and Overly Confident

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Career, Freelancing, Personal, Social Media 18 Comments

Let me begin with a simple but loaded question.

Why do so many voice overs on social media seem confident, yet ignorant?

I’m not making this up to bash newbies, if that’s what you think. Age and experience have nothing to do with it. I’ve seen seasoned colleagues make ridiculous claims, and I’ve observed youngsters parade their lack of knowledge in public without an ounce of shame or self-awareness.

Unfortunately, ignorance isn’t limited to our tiny voice-over bubble. Many people go through life being blind about basic facts. It doesn’t prevent them from commenting about things they know nothing about. It’s a free country! These people have careers, they raise children, and some of them even vote.

Do you want examples? Here are a few factoids from surveys that will make your jaw drop.

COMMON MISCONCEPTIONS

Only 45% of Americans can tell you what the initials in GOP stand for. Some believe it is short for Government of the People or God’s Own Party.

25% of Americans don’t know the country from which the USA gained its independence. Answers varied from France to China.

30% have no idea what the Holocaust was, and half of Americans believe that Christianity came before Judaism. These people are also convinced that Christianity was written into the Constitution.

Mind you, it’s not just the big stuff people have no clue about. I once asked a music student jokingly:

“For whom did Beethoven compose “Für Elise?”

She had no idea.

Now, here’s the real kicker. When asked these questions, those who were obviously incompetent did not see themselves as such. This isn’t weird. It’s very human, and it’s confirmed by an experiment among students who were doing a test.

When they handed the test in, they were asked how well they thought they did. Their answers were later compared to the actual results. Here’s what the researchers found.

The bottom performers in that test were almost as confident about how well they thought they did, as the top performers. In other words, they were blissfully unaware of their own lack of knowledge.

THE DUNNING – KRUGER EFFECT

In psychology this is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, named after Cornell psychologists David Dunning and Justin Kruger. It’s a type of cognitive bias in which people believe that they are smarter and more capable than they really are.

The explanation for this phenomenon is simple: people are too ignorant to recognize their own ignorance, and so they don’t see where their knowledge ends.

Why is this a problem, you ask? All we need to do is present the ignorant people of the world with the facts, and they’ll get off their high horse and accept that they’re wrong. End of story.

If only it were that easy.

By the way, for the sake of this discussion when I say “facts” I’m referring to information confirmed to be true according to objective scientific standards.

We can verify what GOP stands for, and from which country the USA gained its independence. It’s not a matter of opinion.

The real problem is not that people are not as knowledgeable as they think they are. To be honest: all of us live under the shadow of our own ignorance. The problem is that our misconceptions are a serious barrier to us learning anything new and accepting expert opinions.

As the Zen master said:

“How can I fill your tea cup if it’s already full?”

I run into this problem when giving feedback as a coach.

ACCEPT FAILURE

For people to accept the feedback, they have to accept failure and be open to new information. Let me give you an example. One of my older students didn’t like what I had to say about the quality of his audio. His equipment was top-notch, but his recording space was terrible. All of his recordings had a low rumble and flutter echoes.

He wasn’t booking anything, and yet he was intent on showing me how much he had spent on his microphone and preamp to prove that I was wrong. Good gear couldn’t lead to bad audio, he thought.

At my request he visited an audiologist, and found out he needed a hearing aid. Once the device was in place, he called to apologize. He had listened to his recordings and heard some things he’d never heard before, proving my point.

Here’s what I had to learn. Telling people they’re wrong puts them on the defense, allowing them to turn me into the bad guy. Facts can be denied and intentions can be questioned. Experiences on the other hand, are harder to disprove.

So, instead of telling my students what they’re doing wrong (creating resistance), I now give them assignments to help them assess their expertise of lack thereof, and I have them research ways in which they can improve. This way, they own the feedback as well as the solution.

It’s easy to forget a fact, but people will remember an experience.

The other problem with the Dunning – Kruger effect is that it leads to people making bad choices because they reach the wrong conclusions while thinking they’re doing okay.

AT THE SHOOTING RANGE

Dunning and Kruger went to a gun shooting event and asked gun enthusiasts to fill out a ten-question firearm and safety knowledge quiz used by the NRA. It turned out that the gun owners who knew the least about gun safety overestimated their knowledge the most.

I don’t know about you, but this scares the hell out of me. To take it one step further, people have pointed at the behavior of our Commander-in-Chief as a prime example of the Dunning – Kruger effect.

Those who are suffering from Dunning – Kruger have trouble measuring themselves against real experts because they’re so confident they are right. I mean, why should a know-it-all turn to other sources for advice?

What makes it worse is that overly confident and narcissistic leaders tend to surround themselves with YES-men and women who are too afraid to criticize their boss for fear of repercussions. This lack of feedback makes a leader even more convinced that he’s doing a perfect job.

One last thing. Someone displaying signs of the Dunning – Kruger effect has trouble taking responsibility when things go haywire. How can someone unable to make mistakes possibly do something wrong? Instead, they point the finger at others.

ALL ARE AFFECTED

Now, before you tell me I’m turning this blog into a political diatribe, I think it’s important to look into the mirror and admit that all of us show signs of the Dunning – Kruger effect. No matter how much we think we know about a topic, our knowledge is finite, whereas what we don’t know is infinite.

There are simple biological limitations to what we’re able to know as well. Our brain cannot remember everything. It does not need to remember everything because we can find most information online. Some have called this the “Google Effect,” the automatic forgetting of info that’s available on the world wide web.

We should also realize that the ill-informed don’t necessarily know less. They’re not stupid. They just believe things that aren’t always rooted in facts. People will endorse erroneous information if it fits their opinion. They also know more about different things that may or may not be relevant or deemed important.

One of my cousins is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he can blindly identify the make and model of a car, simply by listening to the noise the engine is making. And if he listens a bit longer, he can tell you what needs to be fixed (he grew up in a body shop).

I also know people who are extremely knowledgeable in one area of their life, but please don’t ask them to make eggs over easy. The kitchen is going to be a mess.

Having interviewed some of the best brains in the world, one thing became very clear to me. Knowing a lot doesn’t make someone smart, or kind, or more understanding.

METACOGNITION

Is there a way to counter the Dunning – Kruger effect? As you can imagine, arguing with people who experience the Dunning – Kruger effect is frustrating. They will often become more entrenched in their beliefs. So, lets’s start with ourselves.

One way to overcome the effect is to develop what psychologists call metacognition. It is the ability to think about one’s own thinking and behavior. It’s a skill that helps us recognize how well we are performing. I’d say this is an essential skill for the self-employed.

How do you develop this skill? Well, by doing what you are doing right now. By reading this story you’re hopefully learning to recognize the symptoms in others and in yourself. Every change we wish to make has to start with us being aware of what needs to change. As long as we’re in denial, treatment is futile.

Another way of dealing with the Dunning – Kruger effect is to accept that we don’t need to know everything about everything. I find not having to know everything very liberating and humbling. What’s more, it has opened me up to a whole realm of surprising possibilities.

Because of this blog, I get a lot of questions from readers like you. How much should they charge for this project in this country, what’s the best microphone for a high female voice, should they join the union or go Taft-Hartley?

I’m no longer afraid to tell them I don’t have an answer. It doesn’t diminish who I am. I’d rather be open about my ignorance than arrogant about my perceived knowledge and steer my readers in the wrong direction.

I’m also willing to accept that not everything I write, or all the things I think I know, are shiny pearls of wisdom. These days, I restrain myself more and more from commenting on social media (much to the relief of many).

Knowing my limitations also means I can start working on the knowledge I lack, if that’s important to me.

There’s always more to learn.

In short, I’ve become very confident about my ignorance, and I’m totally okay with that.

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

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Surviving Christmas

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Personal 13 Comments

The author

Because I’m the son of a minister, people have always assumed that Christmas was my favorite time of year.

To tell you the truth: it wasn’t.

In fact, every year I was glad it was over.

In the weeks leading up to the celebration of the birth of Christ, our home became a very stressful place where kids had to walk on eggshells.

My mom was responsible for Sunday School, and for the inescapable Nativity Play. Every year she had to deal with parents harassing her because their son or daughter was selected to be an ox, an ass, or worse, a tree.

My dad was crazy busy writing too many sermons on the subject of world peace, hoping to make an impression on those who only came to church at the end of December. His calendar was dominated by one social function after another. He was often asked to bring the whole family to singalongs, nursing homes, hospitals, and countless receptions.

During those hectic weeks, my sister and I got an idea of what it must feel like to be part of the First Family. We had to be on our best behavior, as we were getting stuffed with sugary treats from sweet old ladies. It gave us tons of energy, and we had nowhere to put it.

At the end of this grueling marathon, we visited both sets of grandparents in Friesland, all the way in the north of the country. By that time, it became harder and harder for our family to keep up appearances, especially when familial buttons would be pushed. And believe me, around the holidays those buttons only needed to be touched lightly to have maximum effect. It was only a matter of time before one of us would either explode or collapse.

“Thank God Christmas is over,” my dad used to say, and he meant every word of it.

When he left his congregation to become Head of Pastoral Services at a university hospital, Christmas became a bit more relaxed for all involved. I learned to play the cornet, and joined a local band. It was one of those marching bands that -thank goodness- did very little marching. We did have a special Christmas tradition.

In the early hours of Christmas Day, a select group of musicians would go to different street corners, and play a number of carols. We did that for an hour or so, and then all of us would have breakfast at a nursing home. This had been going on for so long that most of the people in my town felt like it wasn’t really Christmas until the caroling band had woken them up at the crack of dawn.

SRV-van

Getting to as many street corners as possible with a bunch of brass players was not as easy as it sounds. We used to arrive in separate cars to do our thing, until two brothers offered to help. One played the tuba and the other French horn, and both drove what was known in Holland as “SRV-vans.” These vans looked like huge motor homes or bookmobiles. They were actually supermarkets on wheels, and miracles of technical ingenuity.

Almost anything a local supermarket would stock, was for sale in these vans. They sold only one brand of peanut butter, coffee, or laundry detergent, but for many customers it was very convenient to have these goods arrive at their doorstep. On top of that, these vans were electrical, and thus very environmentally friendly.

So, imagine a group of musicians arriving on a cold and dark winter morning. The streets were usually slippery, and driving conditions were hazardous. Our lips would nearly freeze to our mouthpieces, but we were determined to fulfill our mission. Moments later, the two SRV-vans would arrive, filled to the brim with all kinds of groceries.

When the whole group was ready, we split up into two teams to cover different parts of town. One by one, you’d see trumpets, trombones, euphoniums, and basses get into the vans. Inside, we tried to find a safe space in between heads of lettuce, orange juice, cheeses, bread flour, milk, and the Holiday edition of Playboy. It was a very tight fit.

Inside the van

From the very beginning, it was clear that these vans were not made for public transportation, especially if the roads were covered in snow and ice. Those inside had to hold on for dear life when these vehicles rounded corners. That wasn’t easy with a brass instrument in one hand. Everything inside would start to shift, and I vividly remember round Edam cheeses falling off the shelves like cannonballs.

Because there were no side windows, we often had no idea where we’d stop, if we’d stop at all. Thanks to the added weight, the vans would slide a couple of extra meters on a frozen road after the driver had stepped on the brake. With so many passengers on board, his windscreen was all fogged up, and it was a miracle that we never collided with anything dead or alive.

If my cornet would survive the Christmas ride without bumps and bruises, I’d be a happy man. If I’d survive the ride, my parents would be extremely relieved.

Looking back, it was a crazy thing we did, and yet I didn’t want to miss it for anything in the world. We knew how many people were counting on us, and we were willing to take the risk.

There still are about three hundred supermarkets on wheels in The Netherlands, serving rural communities and the elderly. They’re long gone from the town I used to live in, but the last time I was there I heard a persistent rumor.

If you happen to wake up early on December 25th, you may hear the faint sound of a brass band playing carols in the cold.

Merry Christmas!

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

photo credit: Sebastiaan ter Burg via photopin cc

A December to Remember

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Personal 9 Comments

My father, playing the harmonium

December.

For some it’s the month of office parties, end of the year bonuses, and family visits. It’s the month of togetherness, opening presents, and chestnuts roasting over an open fire.

As a minister’s son, I quickly learned that December had another side. I barely saw my father who was off to lead a million services, feed the hungry, and comfort the sick.

My mom was always in the kitchen baking for the congregation, nursing homes, and homeless shelters. She collected coats for those in need, and knitted shawls for the elderly.

To the community, my mom and dad were practically saints with an ideal marriage. My sister and I missed seeing them in the holiday season, and we hated the heated arguments of two people with too much on their plates.

Growing up, I quickly Iearned that, in spite of what Hallmark tells you, many people are dreading December.

While the rest of the world is exchanging expensive gifts, some people are figuring out how to get to the end of the month on a minimum wage.

Will there be money left to buy the kids some presents at the Dollar Tree? Is there enough gas in the tank to drive to work? What happens when the water heater finally gives up?

Being poor is expensive and stressful. Add to that the judgment of ignorant folks who blame you for being on food stamps as a single parent working two jobs while raising children.

Some people have enough money in the bank, but they have other problems. As everyone gathers around the Christmas tree, they feel the loss of a loved one. The tragic unfairness of life is that the older you get, the more people you’ll lose.

After my stroke, I mourned the loss of part of myself. In the beginning, I felt I was living in a permanent state of brain fog where I couldn’t remember words, let alone form cogent thoughts. And when the thoughts finally came back, my mouth had trouble expressing them.

I asked myself: “Is this normal?” “Will I ever get back to the Paul I used to be?” “Will I be able to start working again?”

Emotionally, I was all over the place. As someone who was used to being proactive and independent, I had to learn to lean on people and ask for help. I still can’t get over the fact that it’s not safe for me to drive a car. I can’t drive to the supermarket to pick up groceries. I can’t pick up my daughter from school, and I can’t even drive my wife to the hospital in case of an emergency.

Frustration, anger, and disappointment are emotions I’ve become very familiar with. When triggered, I can go from zero to eleven in a heartbeat. When that happens, I’m like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. My blood begins to boil, my heart starts racing, raising the risk of another stroke.

Now, add to that my newly acquired misophonia (an extreme sensitivity to certain sounds), and you’ve got yourself a recipe for trouble. Some doctors would have started prescribing anti-depressants, but I’ve never been a proponent of numbing symptoms while ignoring the cause. Instead of pills, I opted to see a psychologist. A neuropsychologist, to be exact.

My bi-weekly meetings began in May of 2018, and have continued ever since. My therapist is a sounding board as I struggle, rebel, and grasp to make sense of my situation. He never tells me what to think or what to do, but he helps me come up with coping strategies. Implicitly, he encourages me to be the source of my solutions. Talking to him, I identify my pitfalls and I own my progress, one step at a time.

I’ve now come to a point where those who don’t know me can’t tell I’ve had a stroke. That’s pretty amazing considering the fact that the stroke team waiting for me in the ER had plenty of reason to fear for my life. But just because you can’t notice anything on the surface, doesn’t mean all is well. I am still in recovery, and I have to remind myself of that, time and again.

I believe there’s a reason why I’m still around. It’s one of the things that keeps me going. I feel I’ve been given an opportunity to show the world that you can overcome adversity and lead a purposeful life. My wake up call came in the form of a stroke. For you it might be cancer, the onset of a chronic disease, the loss of a job, or the loss of someone you loved.

Life is fragile, and tragedy can be a teacher, albeit a cruel one.

In the end, what happens to you is not always something you can control, but how you respond to it is critical. So, if this December turns out to be particularly challenging for you, please do not isolate yourself. Don’t wait until someone knocks on your door.

Reach out. Seek help. You are not alone.

Look around you. This is the time of year where we celebrate that light overcame darkness. Hope triumphed over despair.

If you happen to be in a dark place, closing all the curtains and withdrawing from the world isn’t going to help. You may not feel like it, but stepping out of your bubble to find ways to be there for others, is a proven way to get out of a funk.

Call an animal shelter and see if you can help. Read to people in nursing homes. Hospitals always need volunteers around the holidays. Help prepare meals for the homeless. Be nice to your elderly neighbors. Bake them some cookies and shovel their snow. It beats sitting in front of the TV, feeling sorry for yourself.

It comes down to this:

Be the light you wish to see, and make this a December to remember!

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

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Paul’s Personally Curated Holiday Shopping List

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Book, Career, Gear, Internet, Personal Leave a comment

The older I get, the harder it is to give me something for the holidays.

For one, I have pretty much everything my heart desires and I don’t need to accumulate more stuff. Instead, I’d like to invest in memories, in people, and in experiences that enrich my life and the lives of others.

Those are the things that cannot be bought on Amazon or sold on eBay.

Yet, I don’t blame you if you keep a secret wish list under your pillow as you dream of new microphones, preamplifiers, and the latest and greatest headphones. At the same time, your friends and family members may be looking for some smaller ticket items to put under the Christmas tree or Hanukkah bush.

That’s where I come in!

GIFT IDEAS

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been collecting some voice-over gift ideas for people like me, who aren’t so easy to shop for.

Before I show you my list, you should know that by clicking on the images you will be transported to the virtual warehouse that is Amazon. This means a small portion of your purchase will go towards supporting this blog, since I am an Amazon affiliate.

I also encourage you to shop locally as much as you can, but you won’t find many of the items below on the shelves of your downtown retailers.

Let’s start by finding something for our noses!

I have mixed feelings about fragrances. On one hand, I’m no fan of natural body odor. On the other, an increasing number of people are allergic to perfumes and after-shaves. At my doctor’s office, there’s a sign asking patients not to wear any perfume when they come in for a visit.

I clearly remember a nauseating recording session in a booth that appeared to be sprayed with Old Spice from the previous VO. Please do your colleagues a favor and use an odorless deodorant before you come in to record.

If, in your private life, you’d like to be a bit more fragrant, here are two options to consider. I haven’t tested them, but I think the bottles look pretty cool!

The next package is more impressive and expensive. There’s even an unboxing video if you’re really interested.

The following fragrance is not for your body. This microphone-shaped contraption is meant to freshen up your car.

Coming back to personal hygiene, how about some soap on a rope? You can warm up your pipes as you take a long, hot shower.

Here’s one thing I’ve never understood. When you buy a nice microphone, it usually comes in a fancy box or case you’ll rarely use. However, there’s nothing to protect your mic once it’s in your studio. Dust and humidity are major enemies, so my $1750 microphone is hanging in an old sunglasses bag filled with Silica gel packets. There’s a more high-end solution, though.

My next item is a universal microphone protector and dust cover. It’s made from double-sided quilted nylon.

Another company offers a two-pack with custom embroidery included.

My recording studio is in the basement, and my wife’s office is on the first floor. She always knows when I’m in session because of my Harlan Hogan remote controlled recording sign.

Here’s another light for you. An “On The Air” night light. The plug can be rotated to accommodate outlets in any direction.

Then there’s fun voice-over attire. Here are a few examples of what you can find on Amazon.

Most VO’s are avid readers, and some of us -me included- also take up the pen. If you’d like to add to your collection of voice over books, I recommend you send your friends and family to my Concise (and Incomplete) Voice Over Book List on this blog.

If you’re a Manga fan, you’ll be delighted to know that Maki Minami has written a whole series about young voice-over artists. Here’s the cover of volume 1.

If your vocal folds are in need of some TLC, these Voice Lessons To Go by Ariella Vaccarino might be the thing you need.

GIFTS TO YOURSELF

Then there are gifts that aren’t really physical. They tend to be a bit more expensive, but they will definitely help you move your business forward.

For $120 per year you can upgrade your WeTransfer account to a Pro version. This gets you your own WeTransfer URL and artwork, email transfers to up to 50 people, and you’ll receive 1TB of storage. This allows you to keep your transfers available for as long as you want. In the free version they get deleted after 7 days.

Why not make this the year year you finally become a member of the World Voices Organization? The new member application fee is $99 USD. You’ll get access to educational materials, WoVO mentors, and VoiceOver.biz, a site where you can post your profile and voice seekers can hire you. Those seekers are serious clients looking for vetted professionals. When you land a job, there’s no commission or agent fee.

Besides, you’ll be a member of an organization that develops and promotes best practices, as well as standards for ethical conduct and professional expertise as it relates to the voiceover industry, run by voice over talent for voice over talent.

VO CONFERENCE

Have you thought of giving yourself a ticket to VO Atlanta (March 26 – 29, 2020)? Join colleagues from over 44 states and 20 countries, and enjoy a selection of 200 scheduled session hours by the best in the business. Plus, you get to meet me!

For those who are wondering if VO Atlanta is worth attending, here’s a quick recap of this year’s conference.

Well, there you have it! My list of voice over inspired holiday gifts. There’s one thing you should know, though.

Nothing on this list comes even close to the gift you have given me throughout the years: your continued support for this blog and for me.

I am beyond grateful for your kindness and your willingness to spend some time with me, week after week.

It is truly something I am immensely thankful for.

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

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Have I Got News For You!

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Book, Career, Dutch, Freelancing, International, Personal, Promotion, VO Atlanta 30 Comments

Paul Strikwerda

If you’re a follower of this blog you’re probably wondering why you keep seeing stories in some strange European language. Frankly, it started as a one-off thing for my Dutch friends and colleagues.

Because I’ve been away from home for twenty years, most people had no idea what had happened to me. I literally disappeared off the map when I left the Netherlands with my entire life packed up in two suitcases and a plastic bag.

Yes, people… I am one of those immigrants who came to your country in search of a better life, ready to steal your jobs and marry your women. You better watch out!

A DUTCH TREAT

Anyway, I wanted to let my fellow-Netherlanders know what I’d been up to since I left my motherland, and that’s why I started writing in Dutch. I had to talk myself into it though, because I wasn’t sure if I still had it in me. Most of my thoughts are in English, I speak English all day long, and ninety percent of what I read and write is in English. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself penning pieces in Denglish.

After my first Dutch article was published, it became clear I had no reason to be worried. Over three hundred people read the story of my exodus and liked it. I didn’t think there were even three hundred voice actors in Holland. Better still, people wanted me to keep on writing, and that’s what I did. So far, there are six chapters and there’s more to come.

Now, here’s the thing. I have no way to ensure that my Dutch stories will only go to my Dutch subscribers. So, if English is your preferred language I hope you will do me a favor. Just ignore the blog posts in Dutch and wait for a new English story on Thursday. If you’re Dutch, you are in luck because you get two articles for the price of one!

CHANGING COURSE

With that out of the way I’d like to share some news with you. I am in the process of realigning my business with new and exciting plans that are in part based on what I am physically and mentally able to accomplish. You probably remember that the stroke I had in March of last year has forced me to seriously slow down and rethink my priorities.

My mind would love to continue as if nothing has happened, but my body disagrees. A permanent tremor in one of my vocal folds limits the time I am able to record voice-overs. My voice tires much faster, and no amount of vocal exercises has changed that. Mind you: this does not mean I can’t do any recordings.

As I speak, I am learning to do more with less. Fortunately, my clients and my agents completely understand, so they’re not sending me 600-page novels, or auditions for video games that require dying a thousand agonizing deaths.

KEEPING MY PRESENCE

Just because my vocal folds are taking a bit of a back seat doesn’t mean I have lost my voice completely. In Holland we say: “Onkruid vergaat niet,” meaning “Weeds don’t die.” I can assure you that I will continue to have a voice in our community.

At VO Atlanta (March 26 – 29, 2020), I’ll be leading a 3-hour workshop called Boosting Your Business with a Blog, and I’ll do a presentation on The Incredible Power of Language.

I am working on a second book, and I will continue to write this blog with a double dose of truthiness and snarcasm. If things go according to plan, 50% of my business is going to be devoted to content creation, 20% to speaking, and 30% to helping others succeed.

Here’s an example of that last category. Some of my Dutch colleagues want to spread their professional wings, and try their luck abroad. These folks need a tour guide who’s been there and done that.

In the coming months I’ll be coaching some of Holland’s top-tier talent and taking them to VO Atlanta. I’d like you to get to know them, and that’s why I’ll be interviewing each one of them for this blog. Stay tuned, these folks will knock your socks off!

ONLINE ACTIVITIES

All of the above means that I have to have a website that reflects this shift in focus. That’s why I am working with the splendid team at voiceactorwebsites on a complete overhaul of the Nethervoice site. According to Joe Davis who heads voiceactorwebsites, Nethervoice.com is already the number one individual voice-over site on the interweb, and I am going to strengthen that position even more.

Expect a site that truly showcases my writings, featuring a clean, sophisticated design, and a new, simpler way to subscribe. Of course it is going to load super fast and it’s 100% mobile-friendly. Because I’m pretty picky, all of this is going to take a while to accomplish, but it will be worth waiting for!

Thanks for your continued support and patience during this time of transition.

It means the world to me!

Tot de volgende keer.

Till next time!

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

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In voor- en tegenspoed

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Career, Dutch, Personal 3 Comments

onze bruiloft

This is the continuation of my American adventures, written for my friends and colleagues in the Netherlands. It is in Dutch, and if you’re looking for a new story in English, please come back on Thursday!

Paul

Wat doe je als de zaken in je leven niet gaan zoals je zou willen?

Ga je bij de pakken neerzitten en jezelf ontzettend zielig vinden, of sla je het stof van je af en kijk je omhoog naar de hemelsblauwe lucht?

Het is uiteindelijk een kwestie van focus.

Als je je concentreert op alles wat er mis is, dan voel je je binnen de korte keren depressief en lusteloos. Als je focust op al het goede en mooie in de wereld, dan ga je je gelijk een stuk vrolijker en energieker voelen.

Het is dezelfde wereld. Alleen de manier waarop je kiest te kijken is radicaal anders.

Op basis van mijn ervaring geloof ik innig dat de dingen waar wij ons dagelijks het meeste op focussen ons het meest beïnvloedden en sturen. “What you think, you become,” zei Boeddha al (hij was onwijs wijs).

Vergelijk het met voedsel. Als jij je elke dag volpropt met junk food, dan is dat aan je lijf te zien. Eet je gezond, dan reageert je lichaam daar ook op. Hetzelfde geldt voor een mentaal dieet.

Na mijn scheiding zette ik mezelf op dat mentale dieet, daarbij geholpen door een geheim wapen: mijn beltoon. Elke keer als iemand me telefoneerde klonk het begin van de Shaffy Cantate, een aanstekelijke melodie die me onmiddellijk in een goede stemming bracht. In NLP noemen ze dat een positief anker. Vergelijk het met de bel van Pavlov’s hond.

Op sommig dagen had ik die beltoon meer nodig dan op andere. De moeder van mijn dochter maakte me het leven zuur, mijn baan in het callcentrum was geestdodend, en ik miste mijn Hollandse vrienden en familie. Dankzij m’n werkschema voelde ik me altijd uitgeblust, maar ik wilde niet dat de zorg voor mijn dochter daar onder zou lijden.

NIET MEER ALLEEN

Na een jaar op mezelf te zijn geweest groeide langzaam de behoefte aan een goede vriend of vriendin. Maar als je elke dag om twee uur ’s ochtends naast je bed staat, ’s middags voor je kind zorgt en ’s avonds vroeg gaat slapen, dan is er weinig gelegenheid voor sociale contacten.

Dan maar het internet op.

Dankzij Match.com en eHarmony.com merkte ik tot m’n verbazing dat ik nogal goed in de markt lag. Ik had een baan, een interessante internationale achtergrond, en…. een kleine dochter. Voor veel al wat minder jonge vouwen bleek ik een uitgelezen kans om hun kinderwens in vervulling te laten gaan. Ikzelf had zoiets van: laten we eerst maar eens kijken of we het samen leuk kunnen hebben voordat ik je aan Skyler voorstel. Na twee stukgelopen relaties was ik voorzichtig geworden.

Ik zou boeken kunnen volschrijven over de klungelige manier waarop ik mijn eerste afspraakjes inging, maar je bent natuurlijk het meest geïnteresseerd in mijn voice-over verhaal. Die draad pak ik iets later weer op, dat beloof ik. Na een aantal maanden van dates met dames die meer in mijn dochter geïnteresseerd waren dan in mij, vond ik nog steeds geen Match en zeker geen eHarmony.

Opgeven deed ik niet zo makkelijk, dus besloot ik het nog maar eens via Yahoo Personals te proberen. En tijdens een driedaags proeflidmaatschap gebeurde het. Pamela, die via een profiel van een vriendin naar iemand op zoek was om mee te skiën, stuurde me een berichtje. Hoe was ze nou bij mij terechtgekomen?

Heel simpel. Om haar zoektocht wat gerichter te maken toetste ze de trefwoorden “ski” en “skiing” in. Eén van de dingen die ik in mijn profiel has geschreven was dit:

“I’m originally from the Netherlands. The country is as flat as a pancake, so I do not ski.”

Dat ene zinnetje zou ons hele leven op slag veranderen. Onderschat dus nooit hoe kleine dingen grote invloed kunnen hebben!

EEN NIEUWE RELATIE

Pam was uitvoerend musicus, en ze gaf fluit- en pianoles. Dat sprak mij met m’n musicologie achtergrond meteen aan. Ook bleken we alle twee sinds onze tienerjaren vegetariër te zijn. Ze was redelijk bereisd en sprak verschillende talen, en dat is niet iets wat de meeste Amerikanen kunnen zeggen. Verder had ze een helder hoofd en hield ze enorm van de natuur.

Na een paar afspraakjes wisten we dat we verder met elkaar wilden, en nam Pam me mee naar een skigebied in de Pocono bergen. “If this is going to be serieus,” zei ze, “You’ll have to learn how to ski. Otherwise you won’t see much of me in the winter.”

Een uur later stond ik op de lange latten naar een instructeur te luisteren, en even later ging ik met angst en beven de helling af. Het was niet bepaald elegant maar het ging wel snel, een stijl waar ik tot op de dag van vandaag om bekend sta.

Ik had zo m’n eigen voorwaarden voor onze relatie. Als het tussen Pam en Skyler niet zou klikken, dan zouden we alleen vrienden blijven. Toen Pam uiteindelijk bij mij over de vloer kwam was Skyler één jaar oud en kon ze al aardig op haar beentjes staan. Pam ging op de grond zitten en Skyler kwam gelijk lachend naar haar toe dribbelen. Ze plofte vervolgens in Pam’s schoot neer en bleef daar een uur lang zitten.

Ik wist genoeg!

VERHUIZING

Een jaar later verhuisde ik naar Easton waar Pam woonde, en in oktober 2004 zijn we in onze woonkamer door de burgemeester getrouwd. Skyler was ons bloemenmeisje. Ik bleef gewoon in het callcentrum werken maar moest nóg vroeger m’n bed uit omdat Easton een uur verder weg lag. Op een natte herfstochtend ben ik achter het stuur in slaap gevallen en heb ik mijn auto tegen een rotsblok total loss gereden. Ikzelf kwam er wonderbaarlijk genoeg zonder kleerscheuren van af.

Het was daarom letterlijk een geluk bij een ongeluk dat het internationale enquêtebureau waar ik werkte er achter kwam dat ze de interviews die we deden makkelijk konden vervangen door online vragenlijsten. Computers vonden het geen probleem om constant uitgescholden te worden, en leverden betrouwbare antwoorden op.

Na onze wittebroodsweken zat ik dus vrij snel zonder werk, en diende ook een ander probleem zich aan. Pam leed al sinds haar kinderjaren aan multiple sclerose maar dat kon je bijna nergens aan merken. Het vroegtijdig overlijden van haar moeder raakte haar diep, en zorgde ervoor dat allerlei symptomen de kop op staken. Ze verloor haar balans, haar spieren verstijfden en verzwakten, en op sommige dagen kwam ze moeilijk uit haar woorden. Onze buren dachten dat ze soms dronken thuiskwam.

Na lang tegensputteren kocht ze uiteindelijk een wandelstok, een looprek en later ook een elektrische scooter.

Was dit het begin van het einde, of was er nog hoop op herstel?

Paul Strikwerda ©nethervoice

You’re NOT a Professional Voice Over if…

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Career, Pay-to-Play, Personal 6 Comments

the author

You’re selling yourself short on Fiverr.

You don’t go to at least one VO conference a year.

You can’t fill in the blanc when asked: “Mel who?”

Your website isn’t made by Joe Davis and his team.

You haven’t watched at least five episodes of VOBS.

Your marketing doesn’t include a picture of you with a microphone.

You don’t suffer from GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome).

You’ve never tasted Sweetwater candy.

You’re not afraid of Nancy Wolfsons critique.

You haven’t taken a selfie with J. Michael Collins.

You don’t own an unopened copy of James Alburger’s “The Art of Voice Acting.”

You think recording audio books is a piece of cake.

You’re not showing signs of a sedentary life.

You think you can win auditions by lowering your rate.

You’re tricked into believing that exposure is fair compensation.

You’re an extrovert who doesn’t want to go back to his booth.

You think a Snowball is professional grade gear.

Bob Bergen hasn’t told you to join the union.

You think that Roy’s not your uncle.

You’ve never heard of VoiceOverXtra.

You don’t belong to at least ten VO Facebook groups.

You think celebrity impersonations will make you rich and famous.

You’re convinced a few Pay to Play memberships are all you need to succeed.

You believe having an agent will solve all your problems.

Your life partner has never asked you to “stop doing silly voices.”

You haven’t heard Armin Hierstetter drop the F-bomb.

You believe Don LaFontaine is that man from the old GEICO commercial.

You’re not a WoVO member.

You don’t subscribe to the Nethervoice blog.

You have trouble understanding double negatives.

You don’t take everything I’ve listed with a grain of salt.

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Trouble in Paradise

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Dutch, Personal 2 Comments

I was in heaven.

The Jamaican sun was shining bright and beautiful. The azure waters were calm and picture perfect.

En ik merkte dat ik al helemaal in het Engels zat te denken en te dromen. Dat krijg je als je de taal dag en nacht om je heen hoort. Immersion is the best teacher.

Mijn trouwdag was begonnen met een massage in de buitenlucht en een champagne ontbijt onder de palmbomen van ons vijf sterren resort.

Een week geleden zat ik nog voor de grap op een tropische vakantie te bieden die online werd geveild, en met het grootste geluk van de wereld won ik een week voor twee personen in een all-inclusive.

Nu stond ik onder een romantisch prieeltje dat op steigers midden in de blauwe oceaan was gebouwd. Een plaatselijke predikant met een zwaar Bob Marley accent keek me vragend aan.

Ik kon hem nauwelijks verstaan omdat de drilboren op de kust weer luidkeels aan hun werk waren begonnen. Ons paradijselijk verblijf werd namelijk onder onze ogen verbouwd. Dat verklaarde meteen waarom we voor een dubbeltje op de eerste rang zaten.

“…from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part…” herhaalde ik luidkeels.

Even later was ik voor de tweede keer getrouwd. Lang zou het niet duren.

Het goede nieuws was dat ik binnen de kortste keren legaal in de VS kon werken. Als voice-over én als NLP trainer. We hadden het geluk dat een Outward-Bound organisatie voor randjongeren hun teams bij ons op training stuurde. Mijn vrouw en ik vertrokken daarom naar North-Carolina en Idaho om een aantal cursussen te geven.

Intussen speelde Joanne van Mike Lemon Casting me regelmatig opdrachten toe, maar daar was niet van rond te komen. Niemand had in die tijd een thuisstudio, en ik was dus afhankelijk van wat ik bij m’n agent kon boeken.

GEZINSUITBREIDING

Negen maanden later veranderde ons leven voorgoed toen Skyler werd geboren. Dat betekende dat we niet meer konden reizen, en dat onze uitgaven flink omhoog gingen. Ik vond het daarom verstandig om een meer permanente baan te zoeken, en zo kwam ik bij een internationaal enquête bureau terecht waar ze op zoek waren naar mensen met een talenknobbel.

Het blokkendozerige call center zag er precies zo grauw uit als duizenden andere call centers. Mensen zaten als melkvee tussen grijze afscheidingswandjes gepropt, futloos starend naar het beeldscherm dat hun leven dicteerde. Koptelefoon op het hoofd, en een script voor de neus. Een script waar je niet van af mocht wijken.

Ik had het twijfelachtige voorrecht om namens Dell dagelijks IT managers te bevragen over hun bevindingen met de hardware die ze gebruikten “op een schaal van nul tot tien waarbij nul zeer ontevreden betekent en tien zeer tevreden. U kunt elk nummer kiezen.”

Het “aardige” was dat die tevredenheidsonderzoeken zeker een half uur tot een uur in beslag namen. Niemand had daar zin in, omdat zo’n beetje elke computer maker op aarde de IT managers van hun werk hield met de meest onnozele vragen. Het was dan ook een sport om die mensen over te halen om toch mee te doen zonder door hen te worden uitgescholden. Dat lukte meestal niet. Maar zoals mijn supervisor zei:

“Every NO is one step closer to a YES.”

VOOR DAG EN DAUW

Omdat ik drie talen goed beheerste belde ik vanuit Pennsylvania met Oostenrijk, Zwitserland, Duitsland, Nederland en het Verenigd Koninkrijk. Mijn werkdag begon om negen uur ’s ochtends Europese tijd. Ik stond dus om twee uur in de ochtend op, om om drie uur half slapend aan het werk te gaan.

Om twaalf uur ’s middags zat mijn werkdag er op, en ging ik naar huis om voor Skyler te zorgen. Het was een gruwelijk schema, maar het gaf me wel de gelegenheid om samen met mijn dochter te zijn.

Sinds haar geboorte was de relatie met haar moeder allesbehalve geweldig. Ze gaf me het gevoel dat ik gedaan had waar ze me voor aan de haak had geslagen. Nu het kind eenmaal was geboren, was ik in haar ogen niet veel meer dan een handige oppasvader.

Het is onmogelijk om een goede relatie te hebben als de liefde van één kant komt. Het brokkelt snel af en gaat van tweezaam naar eenzaam. Het voelde ook heel dubbel aan. Ik was zielsgelukkig met mijn dochter, en diep bedroefd over mijn huwelijk. Hoe langer de situatie duurde, hoe ongezonder het voor mij werd. Waar had ik dit toch aan verdiend?

KROMME LIJNEN

Als journalist had ik ooit een diepgaand gesprek met kardinaal Simonis over het onrecht in de wereld. Ik vroeg hem naar de zin van het lijden. Als God liefde is, waarom gaan fijne mensen vóór hun tijd dood, en waarom genieten kampbeulen lekker van hun oude dag? Waarom treft het kwaad goede mensen?

“Meneer Strikwerda,” zei de kardinaal terwijl hij een sigaartje opstak, “God schrijft recht met kromme lijnen.”

Op dat moment vond ik het een nogal makkelijk antwoord, maar kijkend in de ogen van mijn dochter begon ik het te begrijpen. Zij was het levende bewijs van dat uit iets slechts toch iets goeds en moois kan voortkomen. Dat praat het lijden niet goed, maar plaatst het wel in een ander perspectief.

ECHTSCHEIDING

Omdat alle betrokkenen zich nog in mijn naaste omgeving bevinden wil ik niet in details treden over het drama dat zich voor mijn ogen ontvouwde. Ik realiseerde me toen nog niet dat de Amerikaans rechtspraak is gebaseerd op keiharde confrontatie waarbij de rechter onaantastbaar is en moeders automatisch het voordeel van de twijfel krijgen. De enigen die er rijk van worden zijn de advocaten.

Ik wilde graag een belangrijke rol in het leven van mijn dochter blijven spelen in een land waar dat nog steeds ongebruikelijk is. In de rechtszaal werd ik als een vreemdeling behandeld die zijn dochter waarschijnlijk naar Nederland zou ontvoeren en nooit meer terug zou keren. Dat was nooit in me opgekomen, maar ik werd wel als een potentiële kidnapper gezien.

Verder vond de rechter dat ik met mijn Britse accent nogal arrogant overkwam. In Amerikaanse films hebben veel criminele masterminds een Engels accent. De connectie tussen Brit en slechterik is daarom al gauw gemaakt, maar probeer maar eens te bewijzen dat je vanwege je komaf, je accent en je geslacht gediscrimineerd wordt.

Enfin, het zal je niet verbazen dat ik aan het kortste end trok, en dat was iets dat zich in jaren van juridische strijd steeds weer zou herhalen. Gedurende de echtscheidingsprocedure was me al duidelijk geworden dat de moeder van mijn dochter niet zou rusten totdat ik mijn baan zou verliezen, bankroet zou gaan, en voorgoed naar Nederland zou vertrekken.

Waar die drang vandaan kwam, daar kwam ik later pas achter.

Gelukkig braken er na mijn scheiding betere tijden aan, en begon de zon langzaam weer te schijnen!

Een Rampjaar

by Paul Strikwerda in Articles, Career, Dutch, Personal Leave a comment

I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I only have myself to blame.

A few weeks ago I started blogging in Dutch, and some of my English speaking friends have been wondering why they’re receiving articles they can’t read.

Let me assure you: it’s only temporary. I just don’t have a way to send my Dutch contributions to my Dutch speaking subscribers only. There will be a new story in English each week. Just skip this post and read my article about a lucrative side hustle: emceeing live events!

ELF SEPTEMBER

Het was najaar 2001. Amerika was net opgeschrikt door de brute terroristische aanslagen op het World Trade Center en het Pentagon. Passagiers van vlucht 93 wisten nipt een aanslag op Washington, D.C. te voorkomen. Familie en vrienden uit Nederland belden me paniekerig op omdat ze gehoord hadden dat er een gekaapt vliegtuig in Pennsylvania was neergestort.

In de dagen na nine-eleven liepen opeens overal geüniformeerde mannetjes met machinegeweren rond. Ouders knuffelden elkaar en hun kinderen bij elk afscheid met hernieuwde intensiteit. De restaurants waren leeg want het voelde ongepast om lekker uit eten te gaan.

Terwijl de natie in nationale rouw was gedompeld begon ik aan een nieuw hoofdstuk in mijn carrière. Een hoofdstuk dat begon in een oud verbouwd pakhuis, vlakbij de haven van Amerika’s eerste hoofdstad, Philadelphia. The City of Brotherly Love.

Het was de eerste woensdag van de maand. Geen gehaktdag, maar de maandelijkse open casting call bij Mike Lemon. Ze noemen het terecht een Cattle Call, omdat de gangen van het castingbureau zwart zagen van de mensen die allemaal hun kunstjes kwamen tonen. Jongleurs, buiksprekers, hip hop dansers, coloratuur sopranen, fotomodellen…. en een verdwaalde Nederlander met een omroepverleden.

Iedereen die zich inschreef kreeg een nummer en daarna begon het lange wachten. Opgefokte ouders met jengelende kinderen gingen aan mij voorbij. Puisterige pubers warmden zich ongegeneerd op. En ik vroeg me af wat ik daar in hemelsnaam deed, zonder goocheltrucs of danspasjes.

MIJN SCREENTEST

“Mister Strick-Word-Aah?” klonk het uit een hoek. Ik werd in een donkere kamer geleid met een camera en een fel licht.

“Strick-Word-Aah, what kind of name is that?” vroeg iemand in het duister.

“It’s Dutch. I’m from Holland.”

“Poland? I though you were Dutch?” zei de stem.

“Holland as in the Netherlands,” antwoordde ik.

“Ah, the Netherlands. Why didn’t you say so? I know the Netherlands. Clogs. Tulips. Windmills. The people are very tall and everybody speaks English. I like the Netherlands!”

Hij ging verder:

“So, let’s see what you got for us today. Stand in front of the camera, state your name, and tell us about yourself.”

Na amper twee zinnen onderbrak hij me.

“You don’t sound like you’re from the Netherlands. You sound like you’re from England, but not quite… Interesting. Give me two seconds.”

Hij draaide zich om en riep “Get me Joanne.”

Twee minuten later kwam er een struise vrouw binnenlopen.

“Joanne, I want you to meet Paul. He’s from Holland. Paul, meet Joanne, our voice-over director. The two of you should talk.”

“Mike, Manoj is on the phone,” fluisterde Joanne. “He says it’s urgent.”

Manoj is de “M” in M. Night Shyamalan, de maker van The Sixth Sense (“I see dead people!”) voor wie Mike Lemon alle casting deed.

Joanne wandelde me van het donker in het licht naar een kamer die van de vloer tot aan het plafond gevuld was met cassettebandjes.

“That’s all my talent,” zei Joanne met een brede lach. “I represent over a thousand voices but I’ve never had someone from the Netherlands. What’s your story?”

Een paar koppen koffie later had ik het gevoel dat ik met een oude vriendin aan tafel zat. Joanne Joella had net als ik een radio achtergrond. Ze was adjunct professor in het theater department van een locale universiteit. Bekende en onbekende acteurs huurden haar in als stemmen- en dialect coach. Haar persoonlijkheid was wat ze hier “larger than life” noemen. Joviaal, aanstekelijk uitbundig, en lekker luidruchtig.

Die middag gingen we aan het werk met allerlei scripts. “I want to know how well you can take direction,” zei ze. “You can have the best voice in the world, but if you can’t follow instructions you’re never going to make it.”

De paar uur die ik met haar spendeerde was een masterclass in stem acteren, en pas later besefte ik dat ik ook auditie aan het doen was. De middag vloog om, en toen het tijd was om te vertrekken zei Joanne: “I think I might have something for you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Toen ik Mike Lemon Casting verliet besefte ik dat ik opeens een echte Amerikaanse agent had.

Wow!

My first headshot

UIT DE ILLEGALITEIT

Een week later ging ik terug naar Philadelphia voor de opname van mijn eerste commercial, een radioreclame voor Hersheypark, het pretpark van een bekende chocoladefabriek. Een maand later lag er een vette cheque bij mij in de brievenbus, dik verdiend door een Hollandse kaaskop zonder werkvergunning.

Houston, we’ve got a problem.

De snelste manier om legaal in de Verenigde Staten te kunnen werken, was om Amerikaans staatsburger te worden. Dat was alleen na 9/11 een stuk moeilijker geworden. De procedure kon jaren duren, zelfs voor iemand uit een neutraal land als Nederland.

“I see only one solution,” zei mijn partner.

“What might that be?” wilde ik weten.

“We’ve got to get married. They can’t deny you citizenship once we’ve tied the knot.”

Eerlijk gezegd was ik nog helemaal niet aan trouwen toe. Aan de andere kant wilde ik graag voice-overs blijven opnemen. Ik was het oberen zat, en de kans die me bij Mike Lemon geboden werd was een dream come true.

“Ik wil er eerst een nachtje over slapen,” zei ik. “This is too important.”

Het werd een slapeloze nacht van wikken en wegen, van voors en van tegens. Hoe meer ik er over nadacht, hoe minder zeker ik van mijn zaak was.

Maar toen de zon eindelijk opkwam, wist ik wat ik wilde.

En zo nam ik de beste en slechtste beslissing van m’n leven.

wordt vervolgd