In July, heading off to an audition for Your OWN Show
I picked up People and, for the first time in months, I looked at it. Typically, I toss it aside thinking who is Snooki and why would I be interested in any of the Kardashians? However, this issue had an article profiling the contestants on Your OWN Show - the upcoming series to pick and groom "the next Oprah." My interest in the reality show was more than casual.
It all started back in July. "Hi, Linda, this is Emily from OWN." I was driving along the 405. I immediately thought of thought of my sister, Lisa. She'd recently encouraged me to enter the OWN contest by putting my reel up on the network's site. I feigned sincerity, "Hi Emily. Is Oprah with you right now?" "Excuse me? I'm calling from the Oprah Winfrey Network. We liked your tape and we want to talk to you about possibly becoming a finalist to compete on the show. " What???
The online contest had been going on for months, but I'd only put my tape up weeks ago. While some hopefuls had garnered thousands of votes by the deadline, I had a paltry 800. But sure enough, it was OWN and they wanted to know if I was interested in being interviewed to determine if I'd go to Finals Week in LA with 40 others.
I was shocked. Sure, I had some on-air experience - a lot of it. I'd started as a news reporter and anchor and then got a correspondent/host job on E! But I hadn't been on TV much since quitting E! more than 6 years ago to spend time with my sons. Plus, celebrity reporting had gotten silly and I was having a hard time faking interest. When did talent get taken out of the equation? Off-air for so long and now in my mid forties - conventional wisdom told me I was not employable. Was it an omen to return to TV? I'd certainly been thinking about it. But what would I do? Hard news didn't interest me anymore. Nor did chasing self-absorbed celebrities. I was caught a conundrum.
In the early years, I loved being with the kids. I drove them all over, and attended sports games galore. Then, on a dime, I was robbed. The thief? The teen years. My boys suddenly grew up. Now 15 and 13, their lives took off - without me.
I started filling the void with SheSez, a California lifestyle website - but something was lacking. I missed TV: the rush, deadlines, connecting with others, getting dressed and going to work. In short, I wanted back in. But I was afraid. I feared rejection - and even worse - being laughed at.
Me, snapped before anchoring E! News. Ten months later, I would quit.
I was haunted by conversations I had as I was making the difficult decision to leave E! A close friend said, "No one will hire you again if you leave now." I also thought of a TV correspondent a few years older than me. She cautioned, "When you're in your forties, no one wants you. Even if you still look good." Or, I'd hark back to the time I stood in a powerful TV executive's office staring at a monitor playing a cable show hosted by Nancy O'Dell. "She's pushing forty and we've got to get rid of her. We need someone younger." Staring at the screen, I was aghast. Nancy was beautiful and, to me, she looked in her prime! How could he be writing her off? Sure enough, a short time later Nancy was replaced by a twenty-something woman. These harsh comments crippled me. Every time I even considered putting a toe in the water, I remembered... and quickly put a wool sock on.
My son Nick, the one who's 13, is sensitive and deep. First, he was enthusiastic. Then, scared. "Mom, I don't want you to do it. What if you don't get picked and you feel hurt?" "Look, Nick, you have to try stuff in life - even when you feel scared. You have to put yourself out there and give it a shot - even if it's a long shot. The crime is not to even try."
Over the next two weeks, Emily and I spoke frequently. "Don't get too excited. We looked at 20,000 tapes and yours stood out. But you're still among 200 and there're only 40 spots." I did phone interviews and filled out questionnaires. They wanted to know everything - from my favorite movie to my show ideas. One was a TV version of SheSez and the other was a show about women seeking to reinvent themselves and being mentored by someone famous along the way.
At one point, I started getting emails from Mark Burnett Casting. Puzzled, I called Emily, "What does Mark have to do with the show?" "He's the producer." My heart sank. My husband Charlie and I had been friends with the successful producer (Survivor) and his wife for years. I voiced my concerns to Charlie but he downplayed it, "C'mon Lin, you think nepotism is a problem in Hollywood? I've got two words for you: Julie Chen." The host, wife of CBS' chief, had recently gotten her own talk show on the network.
Finally, the call. "You've made it to Finals!" While the most of the other contestants were being flown in, I'd commute to the hotel each day from my Encino home.
I showed up at the hotel on Day 1 and waited in the lobby. There was a blond woman seated next to me in a ballet tutu, boots and clutching a book. Emily came and got me and then led me into a suite. Three guys sat on a sofa. Mark Burnett was not among them - phew! The men leaned forward, gazing at me, listening intensely. While I'd been nervous before, I suddenly felt a strange calm. Bring it on. I was no longer afraid. No one was laughing at me. I had something to offer and they knew it. "Tell us about why you really left E! -- how come you haven't done TV since?" And from the oldest of the three guys, who had graying hair, "Why should we give it to you? Some might say you've already had your shot at fame and that we should give his opportunity to someone 20 years younger." Ouch, that hurt. I swallowed hard and locked on his eyes. "Wow, I don't really think of it that way. I'm not looking for a shot at fame here, guys. I'm looking to share with other women in a venue that I have experience in and happen to love. Why not me? In my twenties, I was trying to figure out who I was. Now, I know who I am. I'm better now than I've ever been. I'm smarter, deeper and I've got more heart and soul. I'll resonate with Oprah's viewers because I am them. I'm a mom, a wife and I try hard to juggle all the balls. Plus, like so many of them, I'm trying to figure out the next chapter." The gray haired guy - still locked on my eyes - smiled. I knew I'd made it to the next round.
When Emily called later she said they wanted to go with the reinvention show, as it was more unique. She said I'd gotten a "hall pass" on Day 2, and to arrive on Day 3 to make a show presentation for OWN executives.
Working on my show pitch at home.
Day 3. I was ushered up to a conference room filled. I quickly took stock of my fellow competitors - 19 in all. Several were eccentric - including a man who looked like a shorter, older version of singer Ruben Studdard. Another man, with a towering Afro, must have been 6½ ft tall. He had a dour expression and was dressed in a gaudy silk jacket. The tutu and boots woman was wearing the exact outfit - clutching the same book.
"Okay we're going to the 4th floor where Mark Burnett wants to talk to all of you." My heart sank. Elvis is in the house. As soon as we arrived, Mark, normally a well-mannered guy, launched into a rather harsh soliloquy. "When you make your presentation to us you'd better be ready. I don't want to see any shit. The minute I'm bored I'm throwing your ass outta here!" I tried to catch his eye, so I could gauge reaction, but he seemed to avoid looking at me.
Hours later I returned to pitch my show. "My show is about inspiring women in the second act of life to dream big..." I felt confident and enthusiastic - like my old self! I also felt, strangely enough, a sense of glee. No matter what countless industry pundits or TV executives told me, no matter what how remote the odds were, or how many doors slammed in my face, I now knew I had something to offer. Mark shuffled paperwork. A few OWN executives asked questions. One quipped "right on!" as I spoke of how we need to be sharing inspiring reinvention stories about the multitudes of women who have successfully done it - instead of knocking down women seeking a new path and limiting their possibilities.
Mark finally looked up at me. "I have a problem with you being here. I've been friends with you for years. You've been a guest at my home!" Mark said the network would discuss the situation later.
As suspected, I got cut a short time later. I ran into Mark at the valet. "Can you imagine if you'd won and the press got wind of the fact that we were friends? What a mess that could be for the network! How's the family?"
I drove home feeling deflated. When I walked in the door Nick burst out in tears, "Mom, I feel so bad for you. I could tell how much you really wanted this! I knew this would happen!" I hugged him tightly. Even though my heart felt heavy - it lifted for a brief moment - as I felt a sense of pride in raising such a unique young man - a guy sensitive enough to cry, not for his own pain, but for someone else's. And intuitive enough to really know how much I wanted it.
With my sister, Lisa, after I got cut.
I stared at the People. Most of the contestants have undergone makeovers. The blond traded her tutu for a shiny, black mini dress. The tall man's Afro has been shaved and he's wearing a smart suit. I see a small shot of Nancy O'Dell, one of the show's hosts, and it makes me smile. Good for her!
I didn't win a contestant spot, but I'm also different - on the inside. The experience gave me back some of my old professional confidence. It also taught me to believe in myself and trust my instinct. And, it's made me live up to my words to Nick. Nowadays I'm getting out there more and pitching my reinvention show and a few others that I'd like to produce behind the camera. I've also sent out a few resume tapes. I'd love to wind up at OWN which seems like a natural fit. But if not at OWN, then elsewhere. And, if it's not meant to be in my second act, who knows? I might go for it in my third.
With my son, Nick
Follow Linda Grasso on Twitter: www.twitter.com/@shesez
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