Free Action! by Carolyn Keene Page B

of disappointing people—the director and the other actors and the crew.”
    I frowned. Could that really be the reason?
    “Nancy, being afraid just isn’t part of your personality,” Hannah said. “But wanting to do a good job—that’s your personality. Whenever there’s a wrong, you want to right it. That’s why you got George and Bess and Mrs. Fayne and Harold Safer involved in
Stealing Thunder.
Because the movie would have fallen apart without them, so you stepped in and found people to do the jobs that needed to be done.”
    I had to smile. That was true. Morris had called me his local headhunter because whenever he had a crisis, I found someone to solve it.
    “But you’re afraid that if you do a poor acting job,
you’ll
be the one creating a problem for the film,” Hannah said. “You don’t want to let them down. It’s a perfectly natural fear.”
    I chewed on my lip while I thought about that. “But how do I get over it?” I asked.
    “Well, first of all, you can believe people when they say you’re doing a good job,” Hannah teased.
    “I always think they’re just being nice,” I said. “But I’ll try to believe them.”
    “And second,” Hannah went on, “I have a little trick of my own that you can try.”
    “Really? What is it?”
    “Did I ever tell you about my cousin Ethel?” Hannah asked.
    I shook my head. “Are you really related to someone named Ethel?” I couldn’t help but grin.
    “You bet,” Hannah said. “Cousin Ethel was the kind of girl who always wanted to be a star. She was outgoing and funny and charismatic, just like you.”
    I blushed. “You’re biased, Hannah,” I pointed out.
    Hannah kept on talking. “So when she got to be a senior in high school, everyone assumed that Ethel would be the star of the school play. And she got the part. At first she was excited and happy. She thought it would be a snap.”
    “And then what happened?” I asked.
    “Then rehearsals started,” Hannah said. “And Ethel discovered that she hated being on stage with everyone watching her. She got nervous and flubbed her lines. She had such stage fright that she hated therehearsals and she absolutely dreaded the actual performance.”
    “Sounds like me,” I said. “So what did Ethel do?”
    “She went and talked to a wise old woman,” Hannah told me. “Our grandmother, Edna.”
    “What did Edna say?”
    “She told Ethel that there was no point in being afraid of the audience. But Ethel still couldn’t shake her stage fright. So Grandma Edna suggested that every time Ethel glanced out at the audience, she picture the people sitting there in their underwear. It’s hard to be afraid of someone in their underwear.”
    I groaned. “That’s the oldest trick in the book.”
    Hannah gave me a stern look. “Why do you think it’s been around for so long? Because it works. Don’t question Grandma Edna’s wisdom.”
    “But that won’t work for me,” I said. “There’s no audience.”
    “What about all those camera operators and production assistants?” Hannah asked. “Why don’t you try picturing them in their underwear?”
    I had a brief mental image of Mary Lupiani and Pam and Degas sitting around in their underwear. And, worse, Morris Dunnowitz in a pair of polka-dotted boxers and a T-shirt. Before I knew it, I was giggling uncontrollably.
    “You see?” Hannah said. “Grandma Edna knew what she was talking about.”
    The phone rang, interrupting my laughter. Hannah gave me a smile and left the room as I grabbed for the receiver.
    “Hello?”
    “Nance? It’s George.”
    Right away the laughter died on my lips. “George!” I cried. “I’m so sorry for snapping at you last night. I don’t blame you for being mad at me.”
    “Don’t be silly,” George said in her typical blunt way. “Obviously you’ve been struggling with these jitters of yours, and Bess and I weren’t helpful. No wonder you felt peeved.”
    “That’s no excuse, I said. I still owe