Project Main Details
The character is recounting the story of a past summer. The summer one of his friends committed suicide. The summer everyone else he knew left town, and floated down the river. He stayed behind, spending his days in a basement, poring through his archive of photographs and books about the history of the town, the river-- creating dioramas from this collection of ephemera, quietly constructing a world that makes sense to him. He chose not to join his friends because at the time it seemed ridiculous.
Male, 30-50. North American, no distinct accent. Voice is intimate, conversational, as if telling your close friend about your summer-- but with an edge to it. Expressive when appropriate, and even a little bitter-- but still contemplative.
CUSTOM DEMO REQUIRED. 2012-07-30 21:59:53 GMT 2012-08-03 21:00:00 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) Yes (click here to learn more about ) Closed 0 0 0 direct invitation(s) have been sent by the voice seeker resulting in 0 audition(s) and/or proposal(s) so far. Voice123 SmartCast is seeking 50 auditions and/or proposals for this project (approx.) Invitations sent by SmartCast have resulted in 0 audition(s) and/or proposal(s) so far.
United States, Connecticut, United States, District of Columbia, United States, New Jersey, United States, New York,
CUSTOM DEMO REQUIRED. It all started the summer when Jane died. When she killed herself. Wait— it actually started long before that.
I grew up here, on the river. in the summer you could tell what color the auto plant had painted the cars that day by the color of your underwear when you stepped out of the water.
Most towns along this river are kind of the same. Back in the 1800’s they were booming. But highways and railways made steamboats and canals obsolete. And these towns— our town, in this case— never really recovered.
That summer my friends and I found this old steel mill— it was cool inside and we would rehearse there in the afternoons. It was one of those restless summers and there was a sense that something was about to happen— that something HAD to happen. We didn’t talk about it. It just felt like we were heading in the same direction. We weren’t. We thought we were, but we weren’t.
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