Hopefully Prompt Podcast
Project Overview
Each season of this podcast, I’ll bringing listeners and viewers stories from authors around the world based on the same 5 word prompt. These stories come from authors of all backgrounds, ideas, thoughts, faiths, and ethnicities, but they all have one goal in common:
Deliver an emotional story that leaves you with hope!
The Hopefully Prompt Podcast is design to feature emerging authors and voice over artists, elevating their work and getting them in front of a new audience that will love what they do! Your work as a VO Artist and actor will be featured for the audience and authors to discover your work. This series will promoted and advertised to new audiences all over who are interested in positive, exciting stories by new and emerging artists of all backgrounds.
I have several stories that need roles to be cast. The VO artist will be reading a short story that is between 2,200 and 2,500 words in length.
This series will be posted on YouTube. While not necessary, VO Artists willing to submit a video recording of their reading will be considered first; please indicate if you are willing to submit a video recording in the audition submission. The video does not need to be anything fancy. It can literally be a webcam recording of you reading in character the story, but the video must have a high quality audio recording. The video must also be against a plain or non-busy background. Put your best foot forward in the video!
For an example of the video style I like best for this series, see a YouTube video I did recently: Reflections video example on YouTube
Please read the descriptions thoroughly before submitting your audio audition. I'm looking for a relatively quick turnaround, with the final recordings submitted by Feb. 3, 2021 at the latest.
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The narrator is 3rd person, but we want a sound of an older gentleman. Think of the old man from Pixar's "Up." This is the feel we are going for the piece - endearing, sweet, reflective. The story is of an old man who has lost his wife. He visits her grave and finds friendship with the birds he feeds at the cemetery. In the end, he reunites with the love of his life after a tender moment feeding the birds and reflecting on life.
“How do you like your eggs?” The old man, much younger and, from a time too long ago to recount, asked his newlywed bride.
“Usually, not so runny.” She sat at a cheap card table that served as their kitchen table, in an apartment that was too small to accommodate her large beaming eyes and bubbly smile.
He attempted to examine the contents of the pan through a giant yawn. “Maybe I used too much milk?”
“You’re sweet to get up early with me to make breakfast.
A week went by. Then another. Everyday, the old man waited, alone, on the bench, facing his wife, feeding the pigeons, telling stories. Yet, his tales fell flat, for his fast friend was no longer there. “I’m sorry, Patty. I promised I would return, but you had no way of knowing. I didn’t abandon you. I promise. Please come back,” he whispered, as if in fervent prayer.
This story is inspired from a Biblical text. The woman in the story is sick with a bleeding disorder, is an outcast from society at a very young age, and finds a miraculous healing in Jesus. Her story demonstrates the loneliness, the pain, and the hope of something miraculous. The real miracle is reuniting with her family and society again, despite the pain of being made an outcast. It is important for the actress to be able to pronounce the names and places in the story accurately.
I wasn’t always alone! My name is Deborah, and I am my parents’ eldest daughter – their favored daughter. They named me after the prophetess who served as the fourth judge of our nation over a thousand years ago, before kings reigned in Israel. The prophetess Deborah was a strong woman and a formidable leader who brought peace to the land by defeating the mighty Canaanite army led by their feared general, Sisera. My parents were hopeful I would emulate her strength, courage, and wisdom.
Last week was my thirtieth birthday, but there was no celebration. The past twelve years have not been kind to me. My condition has not improved since the first day I fell ill. I have not experienced one day of relief; neither have I experienced one day of joy. I look like I am at least fifty years old.
Then all of a sudden, Jesus stopped and turned around. His eyes met mine, and I heard Him say, “Who touched My robe?”(1) I saw one of His followers lean toward Him and say, “Master, look at the crowd pressing in on You. How can You ask, ‘Who touched My robe?’”
But I knew that He knew! With fear and trembling, I fell down before Him. As I looked up into His eyes, I saw a kindness, a gentleness, and compassion unlike anything I had ever witnessed.
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