Confidence? I Know I Had Some Around Here Somewhere...

Confidence is a tricky thing.

I know, profound, right? I'm nothing if not deep.

Confidence is not my strong suit. I'm shy, which implies a certain inherent lack of confidence to begin with, and on top of that it's my job to teach people how to be fearless. Yeah, the universe has a funny sense of humor.

I was talking to a classmate the other day, who was also having a crisis of confidence. She has an on-camera job and can't show fear any more than I can, and we agreed that all you can do when you're feeling less than the kick-ass alpha chick you are is act like you are and put it all out there, then go home and have a good cry. (Note: this is not a sexist statement, so please don't yell at me. I think the kick-ass alpha guys should do the same.)

The thing is, as with virtually any problem you're having in life, a crisis of confidence results from not being in the moment. It's either angstyness over something you've done in the past that you fear others are judging negatively, or paralyzingness over something you have to do in the future that you fear others will judge negatively. When you are RIGHT HERE IN THIS MOMENT, you can't be thinking about the past or the future at all. And when you're fully present in this moment and committed to what you are doing in this moment, there's no fear. All there is, is this thing you're doing.

In improv classes, you learn to be in the moment because the moment is really all you have. And that skill spills over into real life, which is awesome. I'm not perfect, so I don't always remember to stay present and in the moment - but I recognize it quicker and quicker when I don't, and I don't let the Crisis of Confidence Monster have its way with me nearly as long any more.

I know it can be scary to try something new, especially something as intimidating as improv. But finding the confidence to try it can be the key to finding the confidence to do pretty much anything else in life you've been afraid to try.

And yes, I'm quite confident that angstyness and paralyzingness are words. Sheesh.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv: The Right Tool for the Job

People in improv classes sometimes get annoyed that there are rules to improv. There is a tendency to think that you get a suggestion from the audience, then do whatever you want on stage based on that suggestion, and somehow it turns out funny.

It doesn't. I'm just sayin'. And if that were the case, there would be no need for improv classes.

The rules are not meant to be constraints to stifle your creativity. They're really more like the structure within which you get to let your creativity run free - but that structure is necessary so that all the players have some idea of what to do, and what is expected of them.

If I have NO idea what my scene partner will do, it's virtually impossible to trust them. But when I know that they will play by the rules and "yes, and" me, commit to our scene and add information that makes sense, I can relax and trust them and we can play the scene and somehow it turns out funny.

The rules of improv are like tools. Whether you're fixing your car or making dinner or performing brain surgery, you use specific tools. You could conceivably fix your car with a grater and a scalpel, but those aren't the best options and the results will not be ideal. You maximize your chances for success by using the right tools for the job.

Improv's the same. You could ask a question, and it might be okay. But when you use your "Making a Statement" tool, you add more information and don't put the burden on your partner. If you go for a joke, you'll probably get a cheap laugh. But when you use your "Playing it Real" tool, you advance the scene and layer information that gets you AND your partner a lot of laughs.

There's an "Agreement" tool, a "Listening" tool and a "Being in the Moment" tool as well, among many others. And unlike other schools, at improv school we give you all the tools you're gonna need.

You're welcome. (Toolbox not included).

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Skinny Girls Swear, Too

After our improv show the other night, a lady who has been to a bunch of our shows came up and told us how much better we've gotten. She went on to say, "And it's so great that you swear, now, Sonnjea. It's fun to see you come out of your shell."

WTF? Seriously, I don't even know how to respond to comments like that. I mean, I appreciate the intended compliment, and I like that people think I'm getting out of my shell, but the swearing thing is ludicrous. I have no idea how she has been to a bunch of our shows and thinks I've suddenly taken up swearing. I'm guessing deafness or amnesia. Darren is thrilled I don't perform with the Friday Company anymore, because if anybody was gonna drop an unintentional f-bomb (or 6) in a family-friendly show, it would be me. At Toastmasters, instead of the "um" counter, I need a profanity counter.

I've mentioned this before, but it frustrates me when people don't see me the way I am. Yesterday at the gym, a trainer there said, "Don't lose any more weight! I mean, you look great, but don't lose any more!"

I haven't lost any weight. Not one pound.

The fact is, I'm a skinny chick who swears like a sailor. These are not things that are subject to interpretation; they are facts. And yet, people still see the facts of any situation through their own filters. So even things that seem cut-and-dried, black-and-white will be interpreted differently by different people.

Yes, my friends, I have a point. The point is, although it may be difficult in real life to force people to see you the way you are, in improv you get to call out exactly what you want people to see. Label yourself fat, or thin, or a prude or a mean-ass truck-driving bitch, or whatever. It's all imaginary, so the audience depends on you to label everything. Then they see what you want them to see, and not their own vague interpretation of what might be happening. And then hilarity ensues.

And if the improv labels run counter to what people insist is your "type," even more hilarity ensues. If the big burly guy says fuck a lot, it's not that interesting. But if the soccer-mom-looking girl is mean and calls somebody a bitch, it gets a huge laugh. So let people have their misguided image of you, and use it to your advantage.

And if that means dropping a few f-bombs, I say just fucking do it.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Sketch Writing Collaboration

A couple weeks ago, we had to collaborate on an assignment in sketch writing class. I've never written with someone else before and part of what appeals to me about writing is the solitary nature of it, so I was a little nervous about the concept.

Oh, all right, I'll just say it: I like to be in charge. Whatever. Don't even try to tell me you don't.

What happened when we split into our group was interesting. For a few minutes, there was some hesitant "should we..." and "maybe we could..." suggestions for ideas. And then, as soon as we hit on a set-up for the sketch that appealed to all three of us, all the hesitancy evaporated into a flurry of yes, anding. One person would throw out an idea and the other two would say, "yeah, and maybe this other thing happens as a result" and on and on. Not all the ideas were workable, and there were time contraints to deal with as well, but the whole collaboration became one amazing example of what you can accomplish in 15 minutes when people accept each others' ideas and add to them. And what we came up with was funnier and had more interesting angles than what any of the 3 of us would've come up with alone.

Not everyone in the sketch class has improv training, and I don't know for sure how all the other collaborations went. But my group was made up exclusively of H2G improv students, and the entire process was fun, supportive and HILARIOUS. The other groups said they were feeling pressured because we were laughing so hard and having so much fun, they assumed we must be writing the funniest sketch in the history of sketches.

It wasn't the funniest sketch in the history of sketches, but it was damn funny. And all 3 of us commented to Darren after class how enjoyable it was to collaborate. When I over-analyzed it to death later on, as I am wont to do from time to time, I realized WHY it was fun to collaborate and came to the conclusion that everyone, everywhere, in every kind of job should learn how to do "yes, and" so that they could get more done and have more fun doing it.

And when I'm in charge, that's how it's gonna be. Just sayin'.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Free Comedy Shows in Long Beach!

Holy cow, it's practically the end of summer. That might actually mean something to me if I didn't live in southern California. As it is, all it means is that new improv classes are starting soon, a couple of awesome FREE improv shows are happening and, uh, my birthday is over.

I haven't pimped out the upcoming shows yet, so here ya go! Tomorrow night at 8 is our monthly shindig at Hot Java, and we've got two special guests this time. Or is that "special" guests? I guess you'll have to come out and decide for yourselves.

Oh, and that's not all... we have a whole different kind of First Fridays show for you in September! Adult beverages and humor to match at Wine Down Lounge on Friday, September 7th. Improvisors + wine. What could go wrong?

Hope to see you there!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Happy Birthday! Do Improv.

Happy birthday to me! And, uh, happy Thursday to you.

I'm not one of those people who gets sad about getting another year older. After all, as my dad always says, "It beats the hell out of the alternative." Duh.

But sometimes I do have a tendency to think, holy crap, I'm [insert favorite two-digit numeral here] years old! What have I accomplished?!

I don't have that thought nearly as much since I started doing improv. First of all, improv has taught me the importance of being in the moment, which means I can't freak out about what I haven't accomplished in the past or what I might accomplish in the future. And secondly, improv has taught me to just go for stuff and not be afraid of trying things - so there's far less reason to lament my age and the things I haven't done yet.

The thing is, if you're lucky, you're going to get another year older every year. And unless you decide RIGHT NOW that you're going to do the stuff you've always wanted to do but were afraid to try, you're going to have another year of regret to pile on top of the ____ number of years of regret you've accumulated.

I'm not saying the thing you need to try is improv. Well, okay, I am saying that. But it's only because by trying improv, you will find the courage to try whatever else it is you need to try. Courage comes down to trusting that you can overcome your fear of something and do it.

As it turns out, improv is 100% about trust. So there's that.

In another year, you'll be another year older. By then, you could have a year of improv experience under your belt - and who knows what else! Brand new Level 1 improv classes are starting in a couple weeks. Sign up today and have a happy Sonnjea's Birthday!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Non-Competitive Improv

I subbed for Darren's Level 1 Improv Class last night, which was a BLAST. Obviously, you all know how much I love teaching improv, but it can be a little stressful to fill in for Darren because his students ADORE him and no matter how fabulous I might be, I'm not him.

Anyway, it was the last night of class and I made the usual last-night-of-class announcements about other upcoming classes and some awesome improv shows we're doing in the next couple weeks. Then one of the students asked if he could make an announcement. I said sure. I'm nice like that.

He just wanted to thank his classmates for being so awesome. He said he'd taken classes at some famous schools in LA that were hyper-competitive, but that he learned so much from being in this Held2gether class that was the opposite of that - supportive and encouraging and NOT competitive. It was a great compliment to his amazing classmates, but I took it as a great compliment to Held2gether as well.

FYI, that supportive, encouraging, NOT competitive thing is our whole goal at H2G. Darren and I have done the competitive, cut-throat thing at other places... I'm not saying it's bad. But it's different, and it's not how we roll here. We see improv as a team sport, where everyone supports everyone else, accepts everyone else and appreciates everyone else. And while people can certainly bond in stressful, competitive situations, the absence of competition removes the need to be "better than" or the stigma of being "worse than" and allows people to encourage each other wholeheartedly.

Improv requires honesty and vulnerability, and it's hard to go to those scary places if you're feeling judged and compared to others. Without the competitive thing, people are only compared to how they were last week - not to anybody else in class. So there's no one to compete with, except your previous self.

So thank you for the compliment! And for those of you who have been on the fence about taking improv because it's scary - come give it a try! The only person you have to be better than is the old you. And I know you can win that competition!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv for Work

We have a busy week coming up. Actually, by "we" I mean "Darren." Darren has a busy week. Sonnjea has to drink some vodka and celebrate her birthday. And stop referring to herself in the third person. That's obnoxious.

Anyway, Darren is off to Chicago as we speak, and will be home just long enough to unpack and repack before heading off to Denver with Viet to do an improv corporate workshop. Somebody in Denver saw us when we did a session at the American Society of Training and Development International Conference back in May and thought, "Wow! Those H2G peeps look awesome in their orange ties and funky shoes! We should totally invite them over." So the guys are going to lead a 2-day corporate training seminar and I'm staying in the LBC to teach the Level 1 Improv classes.

We're super excited about the folks from ASTD hiring us - we got AMAZING evaluations on the conference session, and it's nice to know that people really get how improv can help in the workplace. But it's even nicer that the woman who hired us said that, while she wants the improv training to help with some business objectives, she really just wants people to get something out of the session that can help them personally, in life.

Good thing that's what we do.

Now, if you'll excuse her, Sonnjea has to go to the first birthday lunch of what she likes to call "Birthday Season." Cuz that's how she rolls.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Bi-Polar? Or Just Blonde?

Sketch writing class is tonight, which is both good and bad. It's good because it's outrageously funny. It's bad because it's outrageously funny.

Yes, bi-polar disorder has been suggested, but I'ma go with "blonde." And anyway, I have an explanation, so I'm not crazy.

The good side of outrageously funny is that it's just plain fun. And listening to what the other students write - and their suggestions and additions to other peoples' work - is inspiring and helps get the creative juices flowing. Writing can tend to be a lonely job, where you get stuck in your own head. Writing with 10 other people gets you out of your own drama.

The bad side of outrageously funny is that it's intimidating as hell. Everybody in the class has hilarious ideas for characters or plots or jokes or stories - and often, for all those things in one brilliant sketch. Where do I get off calling myself a "writer" when everyone in the room writes at least as funny as I do - and frequently much, much funnier?

It's not a different concept from improv in that regard. It's just that I wasn't a professional improvisor before I started taking improv classes, so it made sense that I wasn't good at it at first. Being a professional writer makes the egotistical part of my brain think I should be able to write the funniest sketches EVER with little to no effort.

The un-egotistical part of my brain remembers that you don't get better if you only do what you're good at. So I can write the kinds of sketches that ARE effortless for me, and that's all I'll ever be able to do. Or I can write and re-write and cry and pout until I learn how to write the kinds of sketches I don't really understand yet.

It's true of improv, too, you know. Oh, and life. Don't forget life.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Growing is Better than Dying

I read an interesting quote today. On FB, duh... where did people read quotes before FB? Anyway, my friend and troupemate Nate Alexander wrote, "Those that believe 'something is better than nothing' do themselves a great disservice."

At first I was confused. What? It's been, like, 4 million degrees here lately and my brain is cooked. But still, I've always felt that doing something is better than nothing. I mean, if the choice is 1) sit on the couch all day, or 2) sit on the couch most of the day and then walk the dog for 15 minutes, it seems like 2 is the better choice. I know your dog thinks it's the better choice.

But Nate clarified his position, and then it made sense even to my broiled brain.

Depending upon the starting point, doing something that is JUST a bit more than nothing can be a huge victory. But not for long. In order to keep having victories, you have to keep pushing past your previous limits. So the mantra "something is better than nothing" - meaning that the most minimal effort is acceptable - can lead you to become complacent. And complacence is death. Perhaps not literally (I have an issue with being too literal lately), but in every way that matters: death of creativity, death of ambition, death of passion.

I know, I know - what the heck does this have to do with improv? I'ma tell you, so just chill a second. At first, it takes courage just to show up to improv class. You did something by finding the courage to sign up and drive to the class and walk through the door, and it was a helluva lot better than nothing. It's so amazing to teach that first day of class and hear the students' reasons for coming and the obstacles they hope to overcome through improv. We clap and holler "Yay!" like crazy to sincerely celebrate the victory of showing up - of doing something.

But soon, just showing up isn't really enough. Sure, you can get through class that way. You will definitely have fun and you'll prolly learn some stuff. But if you don't have to dredge up the courage to try something more difficult every week, you're cheating yourself out of the best that improv has to offer. Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone is the only way to keep growing, in any area of your life. And if you're not growing, you're dying. There's no gray area there, peeps.

So applaud the "something" that gets you off the couch. But recognize that, in order for it to truly be better than nothing, that first something has to be the springboard to countless, unending other somethings that challenge you in new and different ways.

After all, growing is better than dying. Just sayin'.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

First Drafts = Crap on a Page

I had a struggly night in sketch class last night. We had to write a kind of scene that relies on a surprise twist at the end and, in essence, goes for the joke.

Aaaaaaacccckkkkkkk! This is so antithetical to the rules of improv that I had trouble wrapping my mind around the concept. And what I wrote proved my confusion. These "blackout scenes" are supposed to be really short, and short isn't usually a problem for me; I'm used to editing the hell out of everything I write. But this was way L-O-N-G - partly because I was putting off the jokey ending as long as possible, and partly because my well-engrained improv instincts forced me to make it about relationship. So I made sure to get out the who, what, where, relationship, why today was the big day, back story, labels...

I'm not mentally challenged, no matter how much evidence to the contrary you may have amassed, and I realize that improv and sketch are not the same things. But I've worked really hard to study improv and learn the intricacies of why things work and why other things don't work, and it's hard to just disregard all that.

Fortunately, we also had to write a monologue, and while mine wasn't stellar, it was loads better than the blackout scene so I didn't feel like a total hack. And the awesome thing about sketch is that you can rewrite. First drafts are just crap on the page, for pete's sake. Unlike improv, where you have to throw it all out there the first time and hope it's great because there are no do-overs in improv, sketch writing is all ABOUT the doing over. I rewrite everything - even if the first draft was great, I play with different ideas to see how something else might've worked. In improv, you have drills like add info lineup and a million exercises to help you practice the skills that make for good improv. Sketch writing doesn't have that. The only way to become a better writer is to WRITE. And write. And rewrite. And edit. And rewrite some more.

Which is what I'm going to do now. I'ma go for the joke, even if it friggin' kills me.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

New Friends on Craigslist

I try to keep this blog all about improv but sometimes I just have to make it all about me. Like the time I climbed up on my roof in the rain. Or, you know, when I went off on the puppet people.

In any event, I'm feeling a "let's talk about Sonnjea" post coming on, so fair warning.

Lisa informed me this morning that I would make a lousy accountant. Nate told me the other day that I looked like a trucker. Darren mentioned a week or so ago that my housekeeping skills were akin to those of a swamp dweller.

I know, right? I hope your friends are nicer to you.

Without debating the relative accuracy of these statements or the context in which they were delivered, I think we can all agree that they were not exactly complimentary. And in real life, if people tell you such things, there's a tendency to become defensive, angry or sad. You might post something on Craigslist looking for new friends. You might drink some vodka. You might order extra fries at the truck stop. Chances are, you won't channel your hurt feelings into cleaning the house, but you never know.

Fortunately, I don't spend a lot of time in real life. I spend about 90% of my time in improv life, and in improv life even soul-crushing-gems like the ones my "friends" offer are gifts. Any kind of label in improv is something you can use to define your character and help find the big "what" in your scene.

• You'd make a lousy accountant: Awesome. Maybe I'm bad at math, maybe I'm distracted by shiny objects, maybe I'm the opposite of detail-oriented. Maybe I drive a red car. In any event, I know I'm probably not too bright, and it's always incredibly fun to play stupid.**
• You look like a trucker: Nice. Now I know how to stand, walk, talk and scratch myself. I probably have a smokin'-n-drinkin' voice, and there's an excellent chance I swear a lot. A super-masculine woman (which may or may not mean lesbian) could have a hilarious point of view. Remember, I just look like a trucker... Imagine the fun of this woman working at Victoria's Secret. Or a strip club.
• Your place looks like a swamp: Fab. I'd love to happen upon lost things in that location to use in the scene. Empty jugs. Old tires. Little children. Saying someone is messy or a slob is good. Saying they're like swamp people is amazing.

So when your friends tell you stuff you'd rather not hear, don't let it get you down. Just file those labels away and use them in your next improv scene! If you don't have an improv class to process that stuff in, then it's high time you did! The next round of H2G Level 1 Improv Classes begins soon... sign up before it's too late.

**If and only if you still add expert information. You can't not know stuff. Playing dumb is tricky, because you have to still be an "expert" in your own special way and be committed to your own understanding of things.

At least I think so. After all, I'm not too bright, so I could be totally wrong.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv Kool-Aid

We had another super-successful Intro to Improv 1/2-day Workshop yesterday. It's really remarkable how well the students do when thrown into improv head-first! They get a little taste of agreement, information and commitment by playing a bunch of games and exercises, and by the end of the day they're all giddy.

As with the Level 1 classes, these workshops tend to have an overall "personality" - maybe the class in general is high energy, but weak on adding information, or sometimes it's a class of very cerebral types who struggle with commitment. Once we had a half-day workshop that had several middle-aged ladies in it. They'd never met before the class, but it turned out they were all raunchy and dropped more F-bombs in 4 hours than I had previously thought possible. And that's saying something, given my propensity for profanity.

This particular class was a class of people who seemed to really listen. They listened to Darren's instructions. They listened to each other. They listened to critiques. As a result, by the end of class they were doing some stuff that we don't even get to until week 5 in the Level 1 class.

Anyway, we have one more 1/2-day improv workshop this year, in November. If you've never tried improv, this is a great way to dip your toes in the water and see if you like it. If you've taken some improv way back in the day, it's a great way to work off the rust. And if you're a current improv addict, it's a great chance to practice the fundamentals and get your improv kool-aid fix.

You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Somethin' On the Side

I'm thinking of having an affair. I know I'm opening myself up to all sorts of negative judgement just for admitting that, but before you start calling me a ho, please hear me out.

First of all, I'm not interested in cheating just for the sake of cheating. I'm not that shallow, peeps. It's just that there's a certain somen' I've been interested in for awhile now. So far I've just flirted a little, but the temptation is getting to me and I think I'm gonna give in. (Oscar Wilde said, "I can resist anything except temptation." I know the feeling.)

It's not that I'm unhappy. I'm actually very happy. But my current relationship isn't necessarily a natural fit for me, and it's a constant struggle to keep up and make it work. People compliment me on how well I've done with it, given the rocky beginning. And I don't want them to feel like their admiration is misplaced, but the truth is the struggle takes a toll sometimes - shaking my confidence and making me feel inadequate.

On the other hand, my flirtation is just so easy. We fit. I don't have to struggle against my natural tendencies and force myself to be something I'm not. Sometimes we don't see each other for a few days, but it's never awkward when we meet up again - we just pick right up where we left off.

They actually have a lot in common - both of them stimulate my mind, let my imagination run wild and make me laugh. Many studies show that humor is one of the most important components of a relationship, and I know for me the ability to make me laugh is pretty much #1.

I think they'd like each other, if you wanna know the truth.

Anyway, I'm not willing to give either of them up. So I'm gonna stay with improv, but I'm gonna cheat with sketch writing. And I'm not going to apologize for it.

What? That's just how I roll, people.

By Sonnjea Blackwell