My Voice Acting Journey Begins

“I should point out that a writer, like a constant gardener, is a perennial self-editor. Voice acting requires the gut-wrenching ability to listen to and repeat your own words dozens of times, take a break from them, and return to edit them until they reach ‘sound Valhalla.’”

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Growing up, comedy, food, and music were the centers of my family’s tightly-knit little universe. We watched reruns of old TV shows and knew the programming lineup on all THREE networks, including the theme songs of each show. If I couldn’t sing something, I’d mimic it, act it out, or perform it for my two older brothers. We entertained ourselves fabulously and still talk about those days.

As I listened to announcers on the radio or television, my little brain continuously soaked in the tone, tenor, and color of each voice, wondering how I could someday get a job doing that. It all sounded SO easy. All you have to do is talk — right? How innocent I was about it. But my other passions — travel, languages, and writing — led me elsewhere, and as this silly dream resided within me, I simply left it alone.

Now a “veteran” adult caring little about what others think of me, I am hurling myself into a voice-acting career. I don’t know what I don’t know, but my world is changing as I tap this into my computer. Will someone listen and say — “Wow! THAT’s the voice we want!” —?? Or will I languish along with the thousands of voices that never made the cut? Whatever it shall be, YOU are reading this as it’s happening.

You may be wondering — how did this come about? Like everything else in my life, nothing was premeditated. I simply woke up one morning and decided it was time to do it. I’m weird like that. No equivocations. No “thinking about it.” It was time to bring out what had been inside me for decades. My mantras have always been “What do I have to lose?” and “If not now, WHEN?”

So I looked online for what it would take, and here is what I found:

(1) a voice that sells, soothes, informs, or entertains

(2) an ability to become the vocal chameleon (“announcer-y” voices are no longer in demand)

(3) a love of words —(pretty sure I’ve got that covered)

(4) some acting chops, and

(5) a passion to work hard, because this will be no cakewalk

The ability to do accents was a definite plus, but pretty much the same advice about voice acting is everywhere. They all tell you not to quit your day job because the competition out there is brutal. Now that it’s easy to record from home, EVERYONE wants to do it. But there are also thousands of jobs and a lot of money to be made in the industry — everything from phone prompts to GPS directions to commercials to corporate video narrations to audiobooks — which are now common for bibliophiles who don’t have time to read. I was eventually told that while many people take an initial stab at this after having been told they have a great-sounding voice, once they see the scope of what’s ahead of them, they often give up and walk away. I somehow knew I wouldn’t be one of them.

I should point out that a writer, like a constant gardener, is a perennial self-editor. Voice acting requires the gut-wrenching ability to listen to and repeat your own words dozens of times, take a break from them, and return to edit them until they reach “sound Valhalla.” I took for granted that I am already practiced at this kind of patience.

After studying dozens of websites such as “Voices,” “SuchaVoice,” and “Voice123,” I watched a few YouTube videos and sent for a book about voice acting. I ate it up. Then I decided to take a coaching website up on its $7 webinar. I took copious notes, fascinated by the perky, enthusiastic woman delivering it. She had one of those squeaky, unique voices that commercial entities look for, and she was already a veteran voice actor. Of course, the purpose of this inexpensive webinar is to eventually sell you a coaching/demo reel package costing thousands of dollars. But I paid attention to how the same $7 also offered the opportunity to speak personally with her and jumped at the chance to pick an expert’s brain.

Our phone conversation the next day was a delightfully long one, enabling me to ask questions as she pushed her LA-based company’s coaching programs for voice actor wannabes. During the process, I sneakily slipped some of my “voices” into the conversation. I think I wore her down. Because she suddenly lowered the price of her services to a few hundred dollars, telling me all I needed were a few coaching sessions. I thanked her profusely for her time and told her that my gut told me to find a local coach — someone who could train and record me in person instead of long distance. She graciously told me to stay in touch and wished me luck.

While I consider myself an introvert behind a computer, I am an extrovert on social media. With an iMac between me and the rest of the world, I feel safe putting my intentions out there on Facebook and Instagram. I have been heartened by how many of you graciously rallied, saying you saw me as someone who was always “animated” anyway. I was flattered. Thing is, I’ve never been a “reel maker.” No one had ever heard or seen me read a script or a commercial spot. So I took your comments with a gracious grain of salt.

Suddenly I realized I KNEW someone who might help. Duh. A local PR person I have been buds with for years just happened to know of a voice acting coach. Magically, she referred me to a person she had done business with, saying she somehow KNEW we were suited for one another. This friend of hers had been in radio for a very long time, having made the transition to voice acting long before the digital age took hold. That means she knows frickin’ EVERYTHING about the business.

I wasted no time listening to her online demo reels. Dozens of well-known company logos appeared on her website pages, indicating she has done work with them all. I was impressed. I called her.

“I don’t really coach anymore,” she told me at first, no doubt hedging any commitment before getting to know me better.

So I rolled out some of my acting and flexible voice chops during our conversation, just as I did with the other coach. Again, what did I have to lose?

“You’ve done this before, right?”

I laughed and said yes — but only in my head.

Within a week I found myself driving the 40 minutes to her stand-alone recording studio. Inside it was heavily insulated, decorated with three desktop computers, multiple microphones hanging from booms, and a desk that could be raised and lowered at the touch of a button. Voice acting, she told me, requires the entire body. To do it properly you can’t sit. I was fascinated. Emotions and excitement are both things a voice actor must be adept at faking since you won’t always love the material you have been tasked to voice. I began to soak in this woman’s wisdom with alacrity.

Two coaching sessions later, I was ready to read a Kaiser commercial, along with one for CapitalOne, another for a thermometer, another for a vodka, and yet another for a back-to-school ad. Seven in all. Each required a different tone - sassy, serious, informative, conversational, or compassionate. But no matter what, warmth must be injected into each one, and I was taught that smiling as I read certain words made that happen. Each was to be directed at the person who would be buying the product — as if I were having a chat with them. I read some lines ten times or more before she thought I had rehearsed them enough. It took a while for her to take the “announcer” out of my voice. “Look at ME. Talk to ME,” she kept repeating. Before I left the final coaching session, she asked me to read an audiobook narrative she was working on.

I did. And when I finished, her eyes widened. “You don’t need coaching for this,” she said.

I was floating on air. So she told me to choose two book excerpts to read, reserving the right to request more. Which books? I typed “great book excerpts for female voice demo reels” into a search bar. Gotta love Google. I chose two — one describing a woman who was preparing her garden for spring while lamenting about a neighbor who was dying, and another — a first-person narration by a bitchy witch who was trying to attract a convert. I studied these excerpts carefully, doing the “script analysis” I was taught by my coach. Who was this person? What was she trying to say or do under all those words? I quickly decided to do my normal voice for the lady gardener, but bring out my British accent for the witch and enhance the narrative with a cockney accent coming from the irreverent pixie sitting on her ear. As I practiced and practiced, my husband retreated to another part of the house.

An actor-writer friend from LA arrived for a planned visit on the weekend before my demo reel was to be recorded. He loved my husband’s cooking and could not wait to take notes on how to make those epic pureed garlic potatoes he had sampled eight years earlier. Suddenly I realized he could help me prepare for my demo reel since he was already an expert at helping actors with their “reads.” What a coup.

It was exciting. Two days later, I was ready.

I showed up at the recording shack, nodding my head as my head-setted coach gave me her cautionary disclosure: “It usually takes up to three hours in one session and a few more on another day to get all this the way I think it should sound.”

We dove in. I read the first one and she asked for a line or two to be repeated. When she agreed it was a final, I was to leave a little gap, then clap my hands three times before launching into the next script. She was continuously recording. When we finished in a little more than an hour, we both exchanged looks of shock.

“You really PRACTICED.” she kept saying.

“Well yes,” I said. “I did what you told me to do with each one.”

“Ha! I don’t usually get that kind of cooperation,” she chuckled.

Now we were onto the book narratives, to be placed on a separate audio file. I acted them out, immersing myself in what I thought the author might want to hear aloud when she wrote them. My coach was mesmerized. And by the time I got to my witchy character, she was floored. “I could listen to you read all day,” she said. “Audiobooks are your calling.”

I don’t even remember the drive home. A week later I heard myself for the first time on professionally prepared recordings. Who WAS this person? Was that really my voice? But I liked what I heard, and soon I had to put it to the test. As instructed by the guy who will be adding the audio files to this website, I created a profile for myself on SoundCloud and dropped the two files into it. Then I posted it all on Facebook, asking for my friends’ reactions. They came pouring in, asking if that was really me. All I could say was “I think so” — because at this point listening to it felt other-worldly.

I am on my way. I can only improve from here, and now there is no turning back. Stay tuned for more as this little life blossom unfolds.