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A WEEK.

IN SHORT …
    Spring Awakening won eight Tony Awards and a Grammy, which was pretty amazing validation for the work we were doing. And it was perfect prep for what came next. We’ll talk more about Glee , but it’s safe to say that I never would have landed that role without all the work of the years before—both onstage and off—which really taught me the skills I needed to succeed in the business. And quite frankly, probably in any business. In Les Misérables , I learned the basics of having and holding a job; in Ragtime , I learned a ton about acting, as well as teamwork and being accountable for doing my part well; in Fiddler , I learned that you don’t always get what you want and sometimes must be patient; and in Spring Awakening , I learned how to balance my personal and professional lives and really dig deep to access my emotions. I know that I don’t have the typical day job, but I hope—and think—that these are skills that are pretty easy to apply to any type of career. Ultimately, it’s about being part of a team, learning on the job, and always trying to do your best.
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OWNING YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS
We live in a world of self-deprecation, and while it’s healthy to make fun of ourselves from time to time, it bothers me when I see women of all ages belittling their accomplishments because they don’t want to appear boastful or overconfident. You don’t see a lot of guys out there underplaying their strengths or making light of what they’re good at, so why should women? While I get that there’s a fine line between owning your accomplishments and reciting every line of your résumé, there is absolutely no shame in being proud of what you’ve managed to achieve! Own it!
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The Other Things I’ve Learned Along the Way …
FAKE IT ’TIL YOU MAKE IT
When my dad is asked if he can do something, his standard response is, “Sure I can do it—of course I can do it!” regardless of what the “it” might be. As I mentioned, my dad hustles . Like father, like daughter, because I’ve done the same thing my entire life—sometimes to my detriment. I auditioned for the musical Brigadoon and after I sang for Rob Ashford, the director, he stopped me as I was leaving the room and asked, “Lea, how’s your extension?” I had no clue what he meant, so just responded, “It’s great!” He then asked me if I could do the splits, to which I replied, “Of course!” I couldn’t do the splits, but I wasn’t going to shoot myself in the foot unnecessarily. I figured I’d just muddle my way through. A few weeks later, I had a dance callback for the show, and I couldn’t do any of it: I thoroughly embarrassed myself in this room full of ballerinas who did have incredible extension. They were leaping across the room in perfect arcs, while I looked like a skit straight out of Saturday Night Live . It was hilarious but still worthwhile: I just don’t believe in admitting preemptive defeat, particularly if there’s any chance to learn on the job. Inevitably, I wasn’t cast in the show, but at least I didn’t limit myself. I always think it’s better to scramble to learn a new skill than to sell yourself short.

FREQUENTLY ASKED FAN QUESTIONS
    Your burning questions about the business, answered!
    Q HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH AUDITION NERVES?
    A I prepare for auditions probably as much as everyone else prepares for a job interview. Ultimately, so long as I do my best in the room, the decision about whether I get the job or not really isn’t up to me, so to ease my nerves (I still get very, very nervous prior to auditions), I try to control as much about the experience as possible. By that I mean that I’ve researched the role, read the script, gone to see the show (if the show already exists), picked my music, practiced my music, practiced my lines, printed my music out, and figured out where the audition is and exactly how long it’s going to take me to get there. I leave nothing to chance.