Escape Artists Foundation is always looking for inspired and talented voice actors to narrate the stories of our various audio ficition podcasts. This portal contains guidelines and links for the preparation and submission of audio files for consideration in future narrator castings.
This portal is ONLY for open auditions. If you are submitting a completed story narration audio for a specific EA podcast, please use the submission portal for that podcast.
Thank you for your interest in becoming a Narrator for Escape Artists Foundation! Please use the following guidelines in the preparation and submission of your audition audio file...
Please use the following link to submit your audition audio file -- https://escapeartists.moksha.io/publication/audition-portal
AUDITION_[First Name - Last Name]_[Date as MM-DD-YYYY]
example: AUDITION_Dave-Robison_03-27-2023.mp3
Maximum of 3 minutes.
Begin your audition with an introduction including you full name.
Your audition file can include multiple readings (but please be mindful of the time limit) and should demonstrate your ability to provide compelling and engaging narration for audio fiction.
Specifically, we’d like to hear:
You can read our general Narrator Guidelines here: https://escapeartists.net/narrator-guidelines/
You are free to choose your audition text. Please consider the samples below as guides...
“What’s wrong with you?”
Hexben pointed to its jaw.
“Oh, right.” Eland pulled a screwdriver from his satchel and used it to loosen a bolt at the base of Hexben’s head. He’d forgotten that he’d tightened it halfway through the trip to get some relief from Hexben’s protests.
Hexben’s jaw squeaked as it opened. “This plan is needlessly dangerous.”
“This plan is the only way to save Mom’s shop.”
“You don’t have to save it,” Hexben said.
Eland stared at the robot blankly, unable to fathom a response to a comment so ludicrous.
Hexben continued. “You are a multi-purpose lifeform. Although the shop is your purpose now, you can find a new purpose.”
“You don’t understand,” Eland said, turning away.
“I am single-purpose. You are of greater utility if you choose to be.”
“Stop complaining,” Eland snapped. “Either leave me alone or stay and keep me safe while I harvest.”
(...from "Fulfillment in Purpose" by Jack Windeyer)
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The black-robed men had a definite evil miasma about them. That’s the way it goes sometimes. The hoarse voice and the fashion sense and the way the robes seem to always float just above the ground.
“Help you?” I said. I didn’t offer them tea.
“Looking for . . . someone.”
“No one else here,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Would have . . . gone through,” the taller man of the two said. The second one didn’t speak. “Bloodied . . . clothes. Big . . . knife.”
“Oh, him. I don’t know where he went.”
“We have some . . . idea.”
They headed to the portal.
“Wait,” I said, and they paused.
“What?”
“What did he do?”
“Inter . . . fered,” the man said.
(...from "The Portal Keeper" by Lavie Tidhar)
One night, my wolf was not at the window. As I waited with my apron of scraps, I heard a scratching upon the door and a low whine. Thinking perhaps the wolf had been injured, I rushed to the door and drew the bolt. I opened it a crack to look out into the dark. He was there, the great beast, and he pushed his way inside causing me to spill the contents of my apron. He stopped to gobble up the scraps, his long claws scrabbling on the floorboards. His yellow eyes pinned me where I had fallen back in a frightened crouch. There was no friendship in them now. It was terrible to see him inside the house, far bigger than he had ever seemed before. The smell of him was like long miles of frozen forest, and the phantom of old blood was on his breath. His gaze was cruel laughter, and so his grinning jaws. I could not move or make a sound, and I waited for him to eat me up like the scraps from the floor.
(...from "The Belsnickel" by Liz Zimmers)
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A flick of his sword, and the gun flips away, out of reach. The henchman is disarmed but cannot be discounted: his fist, lined up perfectly with the bones of his forearm, smashes into Sphinx’s face. Teeth shatter and the sharp edges shear the inside of his lip.
Sphinx shakes his head, staggering, spitting blood. The close range and the pain both blunt his skill. Huge hands flex and close punishingly around his throat.
A shallow upward swipe of the sword opens a deep wound in the henchman’s forearm, playing a sharp high note from the radial nerve. The henchman screams and Sphinx’s airway opens. He steps back, leaving the henchman to clutch his wrist and fall, spinning slow, agonized circles in a growing pool of blood.
(...from "A Gentlemen’s Agreement" by Aimee Ogden)
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
(...from "The Cask of Amontillado" by Edgar Allan Poe)
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Yews loom overhead with raven-hued branches, twisted boughs knotted with ancient spells. All around, snowflakes pull from the frosted earth and drift skyward in an impossible upside-down dance. Is this how Tina imagines the world?
Golden pinpoints dot the treescape, flickering fireflies illuminating a path ahead.
Sucking in lungfuls of cinnamon and woodsmoke, I enter the forest. In the moonlight, the yews’ gnarled lacework boughs cast uncanny shadows against the frosted path. Occasional brownstone relics jut from the scenery: overstuffed chairs upholstered in blooming poinsettias, Tiffany lamps brightening tree hollows with shards of color, bookcases spilling pinecones and grimoires vined in mistletoe.
(...from "The Woods in the House" by Amanda Cecelia Lang)
Once you submit your audition audio file, our production team will review it and notify you if you’ve been added to our Narrator Roster. This can take up to one month. If you have not heard back from us or have questions regarding the process, please contact us at production@escapeartists.net.
PLEASE NOTE that we may not have the time or resources available to offer a detailed review of your audition. Thank for in advance for your patience and undertannding.
Audition Portal is currently closed to submissions. |
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