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Read This EXCLUSIVE Chapter From Tim Federle鈥檚 Upcoming Life Is Like a Musical
The Better Nate Than Never author and Tuck Everlasting librettist offers a glimpse at his self-help book for theatre fans.
鈥淚 truly truly believe that everything I know about life I learned doing musical theatre,鈥� says author Tim Federle. 鈥淚 learned so much about rejection, and jealousy, and teamwork, brushing off disappointment at a really young age.鈥� Having started out in the theatre as an actor, making his Broadway debut in the Bernadette Peters-led Gypsy, Federle transitioned to writing鈥攃hildren鈥檚 books like his Better Nate Than Never, cocktail concoction books like Tequila Mockingbird, and then the script for the musical adaptation of Tuck Everlasting. (鈥淚 feel like all I have left to write is a medical textbook,鈥� Federle jokes.)
Federle decided to put his theatre background to practical use in Life Is Like a Musical: How to Live, Love, and Lead Like a Star, a self-described Don鈥檛 Sweat the Small Stuff for theatre people. 鈥淚 think it鈥檚 a self-help book with a wink,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 have absolutely no qualifications for giving advice except I think theatre people are survivors.鈥�
He put his lessons from theatre, like 鈥淔orgive Yourself for a Bad Performance鈥� and 鈥淭he Real Work Happens After Opening Night鈥� in the context of life advice. From lessons he learned while working on Billy Elliott The Musical to wisdom from Tony-winning Peters, Federle鈥檚 guidance lands with comfort and humor.
Here, Federle gives us an exclusive read at the 鈥淚ntroduction鈥擨 mean, wait鈥擮verture鈥� of his book and one of the earliest chapters, 鈥淔ind Your 鈥業 Want鈥� Song,鈥� ahead of the book鈥檚 October 3 release.
To purchase your copy of Life Is Like a Musical, .
CHAPTER 1: Introduction鈥擨 mean, wait鈥擮verture
Willkommen! Bienvenue! Welcome!
At this evening鈥檚 performance, the starring role will be played by . . . well, you, it turns out. So are you ready?
No worries, I鈥檓 here to help. This book contains everything I know about life, learned during my time as a theater kid鈥搕urned鈥揷horus boy鈥搕urned Broadway playwright. Along my way to the Great White Way, I picked up tips and tricks backstage, onstage, and in between gigs鈥攁nd realized just how many ways life is like a musical.
Basically, think of this book as Don鈥檛 Sweat the Small Stuff with jazz hands.
These aren鈥檛 instructions for dancing in the middle of the streets (though, by all means, go for it). It鈥檚 more about 鈥渂orrowing鈥� (okay, stealing) the pizzazz and determination that define theater people, and harnessing that energy for your own forces of good.
Right around my third career transition, I recognized how many hard-won showbiz lessons applied to all walks of my life鈥攏ot just how to be a successful performer, but how to be a successful person and partner, too. And I want you to know these insights, too.
Come on in, the spotlight鈥檚 warm.
From 鈥淐ast Yourself in the Role You Want鈥� (chapter 1), in which I advise you how to stop waiting for someone to 鈥渄iscover鈥� you, to 鈥淔ind Your Tribe鈥� (chapter 49), in which I recommend cultivating a network of like-minded souls, I hope the advice I borrowed from Broadway can help you get inspired鈥攏ot to mention get hired, whether it鈥檚 in a boardroom or on the boards.
Now, you don鈥檛 have to know every lyric to Les Miz to find these secrets and shortcuts useful鈥攁t least I hope you don鈥檛. Many of the references contained within Life Is Like a Musical will resonate with theater people, sure鈥攂ut also with anyone who didn鈥檛 think they liked musicals, until they accidentally overheard some kid blasting the Hamilton album. Truth is, even if you鈥檙e not a diehard drama geek, there are fundamental insights about getting ahead in life, love, and leadership that only a true Broadway baby can share. Trust me.
Oh, why me? Great question, appreciate you asking.
Because nobody has a thicker skin or a more deeply ingrained work ethic than a lifelong theater person. We eat rejection for breakfast and still manage to smile (see chapter 40, 鈥淧ut on a Happy Face鈥�). I鈥檝e worn just about every hat in the theater, at times literally鈥攜es, that was me sporting a bejeweled catfish on my head for The Little Mermaid. Hey, it paid the bills.
Beneath the grit and before the glitter, I grew up swallowing how-to books whole, dying to discover answers to my own deepest questions: Will I ever be truly happy? Will I ever be cast in Rent? But while I hope this book both guides and counsels you, I鈥檓 no doctor (though I have, on occasion, been a sort of show doctor). Life Is Like a Musical is more a collection of wry observations than a prescription for living鈥攂ut everything here was indeed jotted down from the frontlines, the sidelines, and occasionally the footlights.
Lastly, Life Is Like a Musical is for people who find themselves desiring something鈥攁 stronger relationship or a better job or a more refined way of framing the story of their life. (We theater people call this your 鈥淚 want鈥� song; more on that in chapter 13.) I don鈥檛 care what this something is for you. But I know it鈥檚 something. Or you wouldn鈥檛 still be reading. And that鈥檚 where I come in.
So good luck. Or, rather, break a leg. Now please silence your cell phones. The performance of your life is about to begin.
CHAPTER 13: Find Your 鈥淚 Want鈥� Song
Nearly every musical has an 鈥淚 want鈥� song鈥攖hat iconic moment when the audience falls in love with the protagonist, and understands what she needs in order to feel complete and accomplished and whole. It happens about fifteen minutes into the show, generally after we鈥檝e met all the merry singing villagers and perhaps a comic sidekick or two. The lights dim, the stage empties, and our leading lady is left alone to sit down on a stump outside her cottage and sing about what鈥檚 missing in her life.
In The Little Mermaid, it鈥檚 鈥淧art of That World,鈥� when Ariel longs to be somewhere that鈥檚 better than under the sea. In My Fair Lady it鈥檚 鈥淲ouldn鈥檛 It Be Loverly,鈥� in which Eliza Doolittle dreams of a place, a room, and anywhere that鈥檚 more desirable than her current lot in life. In Hamilton, it鈥檚 鈥淢y Shot,鈥� wherein a young Alexander Hamilton is not going to give up his chance to make a mark鈥攁nd make it he does. So what鈥檚 your 鈥淚 want鈥� song?
Because, I hate to break it to y鈥檃ll, but a whole lot of you are singing somebody else鈥檚 song.
You鈥檙e singing your parents鈥� 鈥淚 want鈥� song鈥攅ither the unfulfilled dream of their own youth or a vision for you that, oops, you鈥檝e never had much say in. Or you鈥檙e singing your partner鈥檚 (or, hopefully, your ex鈥檚) 鈥淚 want鈥� song for you鈥攖he one that casts you squarely as their backup act. Maybe the saddest 鈥淚 want鈥� song of all is the one being endlessly reprised by you鈥攖he outdated clunker of a tune from a time in your life when you thought you wanted one thing, and forgot, along the way, that you鈥檙e allowed to revise the melody.
Your 鈥淚 want鈥� song鈥攑ut another way, your personal mission statement鈥攊s a chance to name and establish all the ways you鈥檇 like to change your life in order to live a more targeted, goal-oriented, fulfilling version of your own destiny.
(Hold for applause.)
Sound heavy? Remember, a lot of 鈥淚 want鈥� songs are pretty damn upbeat, like 鈥淧urpose,鈥� from Avenue Q, in which a puppet finds a lucky penny that launches him on a jaunty journey. Your song doesn鈥檛 have to be stuffy or self-serious. It doesn鈥檛 even have to be a song. All your 鈥渨ant鈥� needs to be is focused enough to help you steer your life. The catch is that your song is bound to change and mature. In fact, it almost certainly should.
When I was nine years old, my parents took me to see a performance of the national tour of Cats. As ridiculous as the show is鈥擜dults! Dressed as cats! Without irony!鈥攚hen I learned that there was a job that paid you to wear makeup and fur, and sing at the top of your lungs, I had found my 鈥淚 want鈥� song鈥攋ust like that. I hadn鈥檛 even hit double digits yet, but I recognized that my earlier years, spent twirling around in my backyard and earning side-eyed stares from the neighborhood kids, weren鈥檛 frivolous at all. They were practice.
My 鈥淚 want鈥� song became: 鈥淚 want to get to Broadway someday.鈥� And get there I did鈥攖hough not in Cats, which, as proof of God鈥檚 sense of humor, closed the week I moved to New York City. Meow.
And yet! Despite pointing my whiskers hard toward the direction of Broadway, and in spite of my 鈥淚 want鈥� becoming an 鈥淥K, I鈥檝e got it now,鈥� it took me far too long to recognize that on the other side of a Broadway dream stood the reality of actually getting there . . . and then what?
The big secret is: You鈥檙e supposed to write yourself a new want, every now and then.
Right before I turned thirty, about twenty years after I鈥檇 first seen those damn dancing kitties, I realized I鈥檇 rather write the next Cats than actually be one. So I changed my tune. This time, I鈥檇 be a writer鈥攐ne way or another. One page at a time.
Please, never forget you鈥檙e the leading character in your own life. Read that sentence again: You aren鈥檛 the supporting cast. You鈥檙e it, baby. Too many of us relegate ourselves quite willingly to the sidelines of somebody else鈥檚 story, for any number of reasons. Starting today, own the fact that on the grand musical that is your own journey, you鈥檙e the only person who鈥檚 taking the final bow. You鈥檙e the whole show: the dialogue, the inner monologues, the crew, and the cast. So start composing a life that鈥檚 a joy to actually sing about.
What鈥檚 your signature tune going to be? How hard will you belt it out till you get the thing you want? Not what your folks or your teachers or your former you wants. You鈥檝e outgrown her. And thank goodness for that.
What鈥檚 the big 鈥淚 want鈥� of the person reading this book, right now? Go get it. Sing that song. Sing it till you know it by heart.
