The Optimist/ Jason Chimonides/ Declan
I am obsessed. It’s startling, isn’t it? I mean, look out there. Every one of those tragic bipeds, indeed, each and every one of us, Noel is the result of a single tussled gooey act of sex. What if you could see it? Through some sort of crazy telekinetic, portal thing? What if you could see in like, this searing flash, the fuck from whence they came? Like this fat Asian guy,- “reverse cowgirl”?… or that crumpled granny woman over there, with the Medicaid sunglasses on: a melancholic missionary position. Certainly not, “upright doggy”…”suspended Congress” maybe? I wonder what it was like when we were conceived. Probably Mom was on top. I wouldn’t doubt it. I bet she was a hellcat in her day. I hope we were conceived in like a sweaty, febrile, primate kinda way. Not in the sort of lovey dovey Sunday afternoon kinda way. I hope it was like: teeth gnashing, feet folding, tangled sheets kinda sex.
"I ate the divorce papers"
Monologue is from play “Goodbye Charles” by Gabriel Davis
I ate them. That’s right. I ate the divorce papers, Charles. I ate them with ketchup. And they were good…goooood. You probably want me to get serious about our divorce. The thing is you always called our marriage a joke. So let’s use logic here: If A we never had a serious marriage then B we can’t have a serious divorce. No. We can’t. The whole thing’s a farce, Charles – a farce that tastes good with ketchup.
I mean, wasn’t it last week, your dad asked you the reason you walked down that aisle with me, and you said “for the exercise.” Ha, ha. That’s funny. You’re a funny guy, Charles. I’m laughing, not a crying. Ha, ha. I’m laughing because you’re about to give up on a woman who is infinitely lovable.
Continue reading on Gabriel’s website, Monologue Genie!
Anonymous asked: Hi, I'm seventeen about to audition to get into a college theatre program, and I need a one minute comedy monologue. Does anyone have a suggestion.
Putting this open to the public. Let’s all help one another here.
hail-aphrodite asked: Quite possibly a stupid question, but are we allowed to submit monologues? I'm an actress as well and have some to add. (Thanks by the way for this blog. Extremely useful)
YES! I haven’t been able to update this in the longest time so I’d love for any extra input!
claudiajanette asked: I am auditioning for my college's fall play this coming Monday or Tuesday. I am a 19-year-old female. I've been reading plays, but I'm having a hard time finding an appropriate monologue. (Obviously, I'm not reading the right ones.) Auditions were announced today, so it's very short-noticed. I need a one-minute contemporary monologue. I was thinking either Margaret from "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" or Blanche from "Streetcar." Our school did Streetcar two years ago, so is that one a bad idea?
Streetcar is fine! I would only caution against doing it if they had performed it within the last year. Do what you love and enjoy.
Anonymous asked: Hey there! I'm Paige. I'm an aspiring young actress and frequent creeper of this blog! Anyway, I've been trying Naturalistic Drama on camera, which is something I've never done before. I've been looking for some tips and constructive criticism and a share on your lovely would be so valuable to me! The video is on youtube! /watch?v=cc1S0jRs4Ig
Ch-che-check it out
Venus in Fur/ David Ives/ Vanda
Knock knock knock! Am I too late? I’m too late, right? Fuck. Fuck! God, I’m so sorry, I am so, so, sorry. I got caught like way uptown and my cell went out. Then my fucking heel get’s stuck in one of those sewer- cover- thing whatevers. Then there’s this guy from the train, I don’t even want to tell you about him, rubbing up against my ass the whole trip. Then it starts to pour. I get soaked through to the fucking skin. Fuck. Fuck! I’m ok. Just my usual luck is all. Thank you. God, once again! Hi! I’m sorry. Vanda Jordan. See what I mean? I’ve even got her name! How many girls in this town are called Vanda? Actually I’m Wanda but my parents call me Vanda. Anyway, I’m like perfect for the part and the fucking train gets stuck in a tunnel while this guys trying to penetrate me. Talk about fate. And you are Thomas Novacheck. God, I love your plays! I mean the ones I know. Anatomy of Shadows? Like Wow, Anatomy of Shadows was amazing! I saw it twice! […] Right, right. I mean you know, the other one. Anyway. God this is embarrassing. This play sure is amazing. I mean the parts of it I read. Pretty wild stuff.
Fat Men in Skirts/ Nicky Silver/ Popo Martin
I am Popo Martin. My friends call me Popo martin. Dr. Nester says I am a paranoid skitzophrenic. I think I have Marnie’s disease. You know, like Tippi Hedren in that movie. When I see red, I see red! I mean, I have an episode. Although sometimes it happends when I don’t see red. And sometimes I see red and it dosen’t happen. I am the most popular girl in the hospital. I get lots of visitors! I was a cheerleader. I’d do a cheer for you now, but I don’t have my pompoms. All my teachers love me. The girls on the squad come to visit me every sunday. The principal sent me a get well note and the boys autographed a football. You can ask anyone in school about me, and they’d all say the same thing. Popo Martin is always cheerful. Popo Martin is a natural leader. Popo Martin looks on the bright side. Popo Martin has a smile on her lips and a kind word for a saddend stranger. Which is propobly why everyone was so surprised when it happend. I tried to kill myself! I took thirty-five sleeping pills out of my mothers purse. I didn’t want to smile anymore. My jaw hurts. And whistling gives me a headache. I want, more than anything to wallow in a hopeless depression - but it just goes against my grain. So I tried to kill myself. That’s why I’m here.
Scab/ Sheila Callaghan/ Anima
This is the ocean, Susan. She’s vast, isn’t she? The yellow afternoon hanging low above her is her father. He dreamed of her once filled with jewels, emeralds, and sapphires, and diamonds, and she stayed that way. She winks and twinkles for a million miles. You’ve probably dreamed of her as well. Remember the ache you felt in your stem, the small half-pains, the yawning itch…it was her voice riding your dream tides. Stretch to her Susan. Let each new leaf uncurl, one by one life fingers in a fist and let your palms be tickled by her green breath. See. That’s it. Stretch.