October 3rd , 2005

Ah, the Talent. Bless their incredibly-gifted, hypersensitive little hearts.

I used to know a writer who cast himself in every single radio spot he did, despite the flagrant violation of union rules. Compounding the ethical problem was his voice. His über-nasal, diamond-tipped drill-bit of a voice. If he did a PSA for the World Wildlife Federation, you'd send money, sure, but it would be to the poachers. His voice would make you hate pandas. It was just that bad.

Most people think he did it for the money – and it was very, very good money – but I suspect at least part of it was the little voice inside every writer that says “Gimme the mic, I'LL show you how it should be done.” Except his little voice would shriek like Fran Drescher three days into heroin withdrawal. If the voice in your head sounded like that, you'd do anything to shut it up, too.

For myself, despite being blessed with a voice that would make your grandmother blush, I'm more than happy to leave acting to the professionals. Granted, I've never had a spot turn out the way I envisioned it in my head, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. The best work I've done I didn't even do. I just happened to write the scripts that served as catalysts for gifted actors. It doesn't stop me from accepting the awards, mind you.

- Graham