Directors loved her: she always knew her mark, always had her lines, always brought half a dozen different reads to every scene. But she didn’t have...the fire, ambition and pluck that separated the merely good from the great. Her crippling fear of professional failure, nurtured since childhood by the impossible expectations of a domineering mother, held her back every time.“Hey.” She looked up as I entered. “Find everything you needed?”“Yep.” I looked at the credits scrolling up the screen.. She smiled coyly and admitted that she wanted to walk around in her night clothes in front of daddy,, and trailed off. I smiled, gave her a kiss and told her she had a perfect start. Next I told her that she had to wait for a night that she knew both mom and dad were already in bed. Then go to the bathroom, leave her panties on the floor, pee in the toilet but not flush it. She seemed mortified, I explained that they already knew she was a sleep walker also that the sooner the better that she. More

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