STAGEFRIGHT
by Kathe Gogolewski
by Kathe Gogolewski
Julia stepped onstage, her knees wobbling as she approached the microphone. She leaned into
it, the sweat already beading on her upper lip. The front stage lights, hot and blinding, seemed to
sear the very skin of her eyeballs. She brought her hand to her forehead to shield them. Peering
into the large auditorium, a complete darkness greeted her beyond the lights. She could see no
one. She drew in a deep breath and cleared her throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, but her voice was much too high, screechy. She cleared her
throat again, wishing she had some water. “First of all, I would really like to thank Mr. Harlington for
the wonderful introduction, but I have to say, I almost didn’t come out because I wasn’t sure he was
talking about me!”
A small chitter rose from the audience, but not the hearty laughter she had hoped for. She cleared
her throat again.
“Um.” What was she supposed to be talking about? Oh, yeah. Thanking people for that
scholarship—the lucrative one to attend that really expensive art school. “I’m really glad that the
committee liked my portfolio.” Lame, that was really lame, and NOT what she had planned to say. “I
mean…um.” Oh, God. She was stumbling over her words! Well, she had warned them!
She’d told them that she wasn’t any good at giving speeches, or talking in front of any group, but
they had insisted. Maybe she should own up to the audience as well, since they obviously could
hear her nervousness. “I’m not really a very hot speaker,” she confessed as the microphone
squealed back at her. She pulled her head back a few inches hoping to eliminate the screech. “So,
um.” Her mind locked. What was she supposed to be saying? Oh, God. Oh, God. Something about
thanking people. Oh, yeah. The scholarship. “Well, I want to say thank you, but, actually…” She felt
like the stupidest person alive. She didn’t deserve this award. To make it worse, she was taking it
away from someone who did. Someone who could make the committee proud—who could ascend
the stage and walk upright to the microphone—who could say all kinds of intelligent things. A drop
of sweat plunged off the end of her nose. She wanted to cry. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, but I really don’t
deserve this!” What was she saying? “I think this scholarship should go to someone who can really
make you all proud. I’m just…just me, I guess, and I’m not very good at this. You deserve someone
who is.” Was she giving away her scholarship? All her hard work…YEARS of developing the
perfect portfolio and working after school to earn money for her materials…
And now, she was giving away free attendance to the best art school in the country?! She’d never
be able to afford it on her own! “I’m…I’m so sorry! I’m giving it back. Please find someone else!”
In a panic, she plunked her plaque onto the stage floor next to the mike, turned, and dashed off the
stage. She careened into the dressing room backstage, flew past the stage manager, a woman
with graying hair who was looking quite alarmed, and into a closet, where she shut herself in.
Crouching in the darkness, she buried her face in her arms and fought to control her breathing. On
the other side of the door, in the distance, she heard the muffled sounds of another voice on the
microphone. That’s it, she thought. Party’s over. There goes my life. She sat there like a broken
thing in the darkness, contemplating her fate, and feeling strangely grateful that she wouldn’t have
to speak in front of an audience again. An eternity later, someone turned the knob on the closet
door and opened it a crack.
“Julia?” It was the stage manager. “Mr. Harlington is here and would like to speak with you. Will you
come out, now?”
Groaning inwardly, Julia pulled herself up and stepped around the closet door, which the stage
manager was holding open for her. Mr. Harlington stood with his arms crossed, staring at her.
“That was quite a speech, Julia,” he said.
“I know Mr. Harlington, and I’m so sorry to let you and the other committee members down.”
“You didn’t let us down, Julia.” He was smiling. “We didn’t select you because you were a public
speaking whiz. We selected you based on your artistic talent.” Hope…dare I hope, Julia
wondered. “Myself and the rest of the committee were very impressed with your humility. As a
result, we have just announced onstage that we want to include room and board with your present
scholarship for tuition and materials. You will not have to pay a single dime during your entire four
years at the Creamy College of the Arts.”
Julia blinked. Could it be? “Mr. Harlington…I don’t know what to say…except thank you! Thank you
so much!”
“Oh save it!” Mr. Harlington declared, beaming. “We’re having a grand dinner to celebrate. We’ll be
inviting the mayor, the Chief of Police, the District Attorney, the Superintendent of Schools… all the
dignitaries of our city! You can thank us then!”
”W-what do you mean, Mr. Harlington?”
“Well, you’ll have to appear before the assembly of course—to express your gratitude!” He
threaded an arm over her shoulders. “Now won’t that be nice?”
Julia opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.
“Come on, then,” Mr. Harlington said. “Let’s get back out on that stage and knock ‘em out!”
it, the sweat already beading on her upper lip. The front stage lights, hot and blinding, seemed to
sear the very skin of her eyeballs. She brought her hand to her forehead to shield them. Peering
into the large auditorium, a complete darkness greeted her beyond the lights. She could see no
one. She drew in a deep breath and cleared her throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, but her voice was much too high, screechy. She cleared her
throat again, wishing she had some water. “First of all, I would really like to thank Mr. Harlington for
the wonderful introduction, but I have to say, I almost didn’t come out because I wasn’t sure he was
talking about me!”
A small chitter rose from the audience, but not the hearty laughter she had hoped for. She cleared
her throat again.
“Um.” What was she supposed to be talking about? Oh, yeah. Thanking people for that
scholarship—the lucrative one to attend that really expensive art school. “I’m really glad that the
committee liked my portfolio.” Lame, that was really lame, and NOT what she had planned to say. “I
mean…um.” Oh, God. She was stumbling over her words! Well, she had warned them!
She’d told them that she wasn’t any good at giving speeches, or talking in front of any group, but
they had insisted. Maybe she should own up to the audience as well, since they obviously could
hear her nervousness. “I’m not really a very hot speaker,” she confessed as the microphone
squealed back at her. She pulled her head back a few inches hoping to eliminate the screech. “So,
um.” Her mind locked. What was she supposed to be saying? Oh, God. Oh, God. Something about
thanking people. Oh, yeah. The scholarship. “Well, I want to say thank you, but, actually…” She felt
like the stupidest person alive. She didn’t deserve this award. To make it worse, she was taking it
away from someone who did. Someone who could make the committee proud—who could ascend
the stage and walk upright to the microphone—who could say all kinds of intelligent things. A drop
of sweat plunged off the end of her nose. She wanted to cry. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, but I really don’t
deserve this!” What was she saying? “I think this scholarship should go to someone who can really
make you all proud. I’m just…just me, I guess, and I’m not very good at this. You deserve someone
who is.” Was she giving away her scholarship? All her hard work…YEARS of developing the
perfect portfolio and working after school to earn money for her materials…
And now, she was giving away free attendance to the best art school in the country?! She’d never
be able to afford it on her own! “I’m…I’m so sorry! I’m giving it back. Please find someone else!”
In a panic, she plunked her plaque onto the stage floor next to the mike, turned, and dashed off the
stage. She careened into the dressing room backstage, flew past the stage manager, a woman
with graying hair who was looking quite alarmed, and into a closet, where she shut herself in.
Crouching in the darkness, she buried her face in her arms and fought to control her breathing. On
the other side of the door, in the distance, she heard the muffled sounds of another voice on the
microphone. That’s it, she thought. Party’s over. There goes my life. She sat there like a broken
thing in the darkness, contemplating her fate, and feeling strangely grateful that she wouldn’t have
to speak in front of an audience again. An eternity later, someone turned the knob on the closet
door and opened it a crack.
“Julia?” It was the stage manager. “Mr. Harlington is here and would like to speak with you. Will you
come out, now?”
Groaning inwardly, Julia pulled herself up and stepped around the closet door, which the stage
manager was holding open for her. Mr. Harlington stood with his arms crossed, staring at her.
“That was quite a speech, Julia,” he said.
“I know Mr. Harlington, and I’m so sorry to let you and the other committee members down.”
“You didn’t let us down, Julia.” He was smiling. “We didn’t select you because you were a public
speaking whiz. We selected you based on your artistic talent.” Hope…dare I hope, Julia
wondered. “Myself and the rest of the committee were very impressed with your humility. As a
result, we have just announced onstage that we want to include room and board with your present
scholarship for tuition and materials. You will not have to pay a single dime during your entire four
years at the Creamy College of the Arts.”
Julia blinked. Could it be? “Mr. Harlington…I don’t know what to say…except thank you! Thank you
so much!”
“Oh save it!” Mr. Harlington declared, beaming. “We’re having a grand dinner to celebrate. We’ll be
inviting the mayor, the Chief of Police, the District Attorney, the Superintendent of Schools… all the
dignitaries of our city! You can thank us then!”
”W-what do you mean, Mr. Harlington?”
“Well, you’ll have to appear before the assembly of course—to express your gratitude!” He
threaded an arm over her shoulders. “Now won’t that be nice?”
Julia opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.
“Come on, then,” Mr. Harlington said. “Let’s get back out on that stage and knock ‘em out!”
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| The Muse On Writing, Edited by Lea Schizas Kathe Gogolewski wrote the chapter on Finding Your Voice in Writing CLICK ON COVER TO ORDER |
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BIO - Kathe Gogolewski has written three books: A Promise to Keep, a romantic suspense, is
available from Double Dragon Publishing under her pen name, Ann Durand. TATO, is a fantasy
adventure for middle grade readers, is available from Wings Press. She wrote a third book, Flight
of the Gryphon, which will be available from Double Dragon Publishing under her pen name, Ann
Durand. She is also a contributing writer for Ranch and Coast, San Diego's Lifestyle Magazine.
She is an Editor for the ezine for writers, The Muse Marquee, and heads up the column, Heart
Beat.
Kathe has won contests for her short stories with Storyteller Magazine, The Writer’s Journal, The
Complete Writer’s Magazine and from her publisher. Her short stories and poems have been
published by Penwomanship, JacoByte Books, and Long Story Short.
.
She has contributed to two anthologies: One, The Muse on Writing, is due for release from Double
Dragon Publishing in 2006. She wrote the chapter Finding and Writing in Your Own Voice. She
also wrote a chapter for the anthology Spiritual Visitations due from Zumaya Publications in 2008.
available from Double Dragon Publishing under her pen name, Ann Durand. TATO, is a fantasy
adventure for middle grade readers, is available from Wings Press. She wrote a third book, Flight
of the Gryphon, which will be available from Double Dragon Publishing under her pen name, Ann
Durand. She is also a contributing writer for Ranch and Coast, San Diego's Lifestyle Magazine.
She is an Editor for the ezine for writers, The Muse Marquee, and heads up the column, Heart
Beat.
Kathe has won contests for her short stories with Storyteller Magazine, The Writer’s Journal, The
Complete Writer’s Magazine and from her publisher. Her short stories and poems have been
published by Penwomanship, JacoByte Books, and Long Story Short.
.
She has contributed to two anthologies: One, The Muse on Writing, is due for release from Double
Dragon Publishing in 2006. She wrote the chapter Finding and Writing in Your Own Voice. She
also wrote a chapter for the anthology Spiritual Visitations due from Zumaya Publications in 2008.
copyright TRI Studio LLC 2005
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| A Promise to Keep a suspense with romantic elements by Ann Durand CLICK ON COVER TO ORDER |
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| STAGEFRIGHT by Kathe Gogoglewski TRI STUDIO BOOKS LLC |
