Audition Monologues for Roles Where Characters Experiment With Something New, Vol. 8
Auditioning is often a study in containment. The text gives you a small moment and asks you to fill it. Characters trying something new are gifts because the moment is already loaded. They are paying attention to everything, and so are you. Practice monologues like these build your capacity for specific physical and emotional detail. They reward the actor who can be a body in a new place, doing a new thing, in front of someone they care about. Ten monologues here. Ten different bodies, ten different rooms, ten very different firsts.
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Margot — 56, taking her first-ever solo trip after raising three kids
(In a small Airbnb in Lisbon, on a video call with her sister) Renee. Renee, the apartment is so blue. Everything is blue. Look. (pans the phone) The walls. The tiles. The little dish I bought for olive pits. (laughs) I ate dinner alone tonight, Renee. At a real restaurant. With a menu. I sat at a table by the window and I ordered a glass of wine and a fish and I read a book. (sighs) I have not eaten a meal alone in thirty-one years. Thirty-one. (firmer) I kept waiting for someone to come over and ask if I was okay. Nobody did. The waiter didn't even look at me twice. (beat) I felt so visible, Renee, and then so invisible. And then I had a second glass of wine and I just sat there. (softer) I am fifty-six and I am sitting in a blue apartment in Portugal. (catches breath) The boys are fine, right? Tell me the boys are fine. (laughs) Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know. Goodnight.
Ezra — 23, first day backpacking through Europe with no plan
(In a hostel bunk in Berlin, on the phone with his mother) Mom. Mom, I'm okay. I'm okay. (sighs) I'm in a hostel. There are eight people in this room. Two of them are snoring already and it's nine o'clock. (laughs) Yeah. Yeah, I made it. Twelve-hour flight. Three trains. I almost lost my passport in Hamburg. But it's in my pocket. Sock pocket, like you told me. (firmer) Mom. I have no plan. I have no booking after Sunday. I just got off the train with my backpack and I walked until I found a hostel. (softer) And it was fine. It was so fine. The girl at the front desk was named Inka and she gave me a key and showed me my bunk and everything just, worked. (beat) I didn't think I could do this. I really didn't. I almost canceled three times. (catches breath) Mom. Don't cry. I can hear you crying. (laughs, wet) I'll send a picture in the morning. I love you. Tell Dad I love him. I'm okay. I'm actually okay.
Vanessa — 39, week one of permanently moving to a new country for love
(In a half-empty apartment in Mexico City, to her partner) Eduardo. I burnt the rice. (laughs, slightly hysterical) I burnt rice. Twenty years of cooking rice and I burnt it in this kitchen because the stove does something different. Everything does something different. (sighs) The grocery store, Eduardo. The lady at the grocery store asked me a question. I think she asked me a question. I just smiled and pointed at the apples like a lunatic. (firmer) I am thirty-nine years old. I had a career. I had a couch I picked out. I had a doctor I liked. (softer) I gave it up. For you. For this. (beat) Don't say anything yet. (catches breath) Eduardo, today on the corner I smelled the rain coming and I thought, that smell is mine now. I live here. I live here forever. (long beat) Hold me. Just for a minute. I'm going to figure it out. I'm just having a moment about the rice. (laughs through tears) The rice was so bad.
Hollis — 65, retired widower three weeks into an RV trip across the country
(In a campground in Wyoming, to his daughter on the phone) Janie. I made the turn. (laughs) I am in Wyoming. Wyoming, Janie. I have never been west of Ohio. (sighs) The RV is parked next to a man named Tom. Tom is from Minnesota. Tom has been doing this for twelve years. Tom and I are friends now. We had hot dogs. (firmer) I miss your mother. I want to say that out loud. I miss her every minute. (softer) She was the planner. She would have had this trip in a binder. The motels, the diners, the names of every gas station attendant. I'm just driving. I'm getting up when the sun gets up and I'm driving until I'm tired. (beat) She would have hated that. (laughs) She would have hated it so much, Janie. (longer beat) I think I'm doing okay. I think I'm. I'm seeing the country. I'm meeting the Toms. (catches breath) Tomorrow: Yellowstone. She always wanted to see Yellowstone. I'm going for both of us.
Cleo — 28, immigrating permanently to a new country and starting from zero
(In a one-bedroom apartment in Berlin, on a video call with her best friend in Manila) Trina. Trina, I got the residency card. The card. It came in the mail. (laughs, slightly tearful) I'm a resident. Of Germany. Of Germany, Trina. (sighs) The Aufenthaltstitel, that's what it's called. I'm practicing the word. Auf-ent-halts. (firmer) Three years. Three years of paperwork. Three years of language classes and interviews and waiting. (softer) Tomorrow I open a bank account. With my new card. With my name spelled in their letters. (beat) Trina, my mother, my mother said on the phone last week, Cleo, when are you coming home. And I said, this is home now. And she went quiet. (catches breath) I love them. I love all of you. But I am not going back. I made it. I am here. (long beat) Don't tell my mother I said it like that. Tell her I miss her. Tell her I'll visit in the fall.
Theo — 34, ex-banker living off-grid in a cabin for the first time
(In a small wooden cabin, to his ex-wife on a satellite phone) Margaret. Margaret, you're not going to believe me. (laughs) I chopped wood today. I chopped wood, Margaret. With an axe. The wood is in a pile. The pile is small. The pile is so small. (sighs) Day eight. No internet. No grocery store. No, no anything I'm used to. (firmer) I quit Goldman three weeks ago. I know you told me not to call you about it. I know. (softer) But Margaret, I sat on the porch tonight. There is no light pollution out here. No light. I looked up and there were so many stars I started laughing. Out loud. Like an insane person. (beat) I don't know what I'm doing. I have three months of food. I have a generator. I am the dumbest banker in America right now. (longer beat) But tonight, I split an actual log. With a real axe. And I made tea. And the silence is so loud out here, Margaret. (catches breath) I miss you. Don't say it back. Just let me say it once.
Juniper — 47, taking her first sabbatical year, day three in Tokyo
(In a tiny hotel room in Shinjuku, talking to her husband on a video call) Daniel. The pillow is filled with beans. (laughs) Or rice, or something, I can't tell. The whole room is the size of our bathroom at home. And it's perfect. It is perfect. (sighs) I haven't checked my work email in three days. Three. There's a vacation responder up. It says don't expect a reply for twelve months. Twelve months, Daniel. I read it again before bed last night, like a love letter. (firmer) I cried in a subway station today. Just for a second. A nice man asked if I was lost. I was. I was so lost. I loved being lost. I haven't been lost in twenty years. (softer) The vending machine sold me hot tea. From a machine. Hot tea, Daniel, like a small miracle. (beat) I miss you. I miss the kids. I miss the dog. (longer beat) But I do not miss the woman I was on Tuesday morning. I do not miss her at all.
Saxon — 19, first semester studying abroad, three weeks in
(In a Rome dorm room, on the phone with his mother) Mom. Mom, listen. I made friends. (laughs, slightly disbelieving) Three of them. One from Singapore. One from Brazil. One from, I think, Norway? Her name is Astrid. I don't know what to do with that information. (sighs) We had pasta last night at a restaurant where they don't speak English. I pointed at the menu. I just pointed. Astrid laughed at me. (firmer) Mom, you have to know something. I cried the first night I got here. Like, I really cried. I sat in this bed and I called Dad and he didn't pick up and I cried for an hour. (softer) I almost called the airline to come home. I almost called. (beat) Three weeks later, I'm eating pasta with Astrid from Norway and I do not want to come home. (catches breath) I'm sorry I didn't call last week. I just got busy. (longer beat) I think I love it here. I think I love it here a lot.
Adela — 41, going on her first week-long solo backpacking trip
(Sitting on a rock by a trail, on a satellite phone with her sister) Pia. Pia, I'm on day four. (sighs) My feet are blistered. My back is, I do not know what's happening to my back. My pack weighs forty pounds. (laughs) The first night I cried in my tent. The second night I yelled at a raccoon. The third night I slept twelve hours like a small child. (firmer) Last night I didn't see a single human being, Pia. Not one. And I made dinner over a stove and I watched the sun go down and I thought, this. This is what was missing. (softer) Sebastian doesn't know I'm doing this. Don't tell him. I told him a yoga retreat. He would have made me cancel. He would have said, Adela, you're not the type. (catches breath) Pia, I am the type. Apparently. I am the type. (longer beat) Three more days. Then a shower. Then real food. Then I tell him. (laughs) I'm gonna tell him.
Bramwell — 52, taking his first solo sailing voyage after sixteen years of lessons
(On a small sailboat, to himself, the wind, and the ship's recorded log) Day one. Bramwell Worth, fifty-two, departing the harbor at zero seven hundred. (sighs) Sixteen years of lessons. Sixteen. Karen stopped coming to the marina with me about eight years ago. She said, you're a man with a hobby, that's lovely, leave me out of it. (laughs) She thinks I'm being ridiculous. Two weeks alone, down the coast. (firmer) The boat is solid. The boat has a name. Her name is Persistent. I named her that the day I bought her. (softer) I have wanted this since I was eleven. Eleven, log. My grandfather had a sailboat. I have wanted to do this for forty-one years. (beat) The wind is good. The wind is so good. I have the right tack. (catches breath) Karen, if you ever hear this recording, which you won't because you don't want to. I just want to say. (long beat) Thank you for not stopping me. Most people stop people. You never did. (clears throat) Resuming log. The swell is two feet. Wind south-southwest. Course is true.
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