Wednesday, October 15, 2014

7 Pet Peeves of a Young Actress

I know what you're (probably) thinking. You've only been an actress for a short time. How could you possibly have pet peeves already?

Because I'm that good. (Ha.)

I actually wasn't going to write about this specifically because I didn't want to be viewed as stuck up or a whiner. But it's been on my mind a few weeks now. And I really need to remember that I already admitted I'm not perfect and just be honest about myself and my feelings. (Funny, how most of these posts seem to be written against my will.)

But in order to keep things in perspective, next week I'm planning on blogging about the positive things I've learned as a direct result of my acting career. So if you're tired of negativity skip reading my blog this week and tune in next week instead.

And really, some of these are obvious the moment you decide to be an actor.

So without further ado or excuses, here are my 7 pet peeves about my new profession:

#1: The high start up cost

Everything about acting costs money. And I do mean everything. Everything from my IMDb page to the professional photos I had printed last week. There's the weekly cost of acting classes and the monthly cost of workshops. The yearly cost of buying and maintaining my own website. I invested in recording equipment and paid a professional company to shoot my demo reel. I pay monthly membership fees to the casting websites as well as media fees to upload the aforementioned reels and pictures to said sites not to mention the fees required to submit for roles.

Guess how much money I've made from my acting career? Nada.

This morning my husband said he didn't want to leave me to go to work, and I quipped back: "But you have a job, and I need your money to pay for my job." Funny, sad, and true.

I spend a lot of money on my acting career. As a cheapskate, I find this extremely annoying. (I should probably go for counseling for my tight-waddedness, but it costs too much money.) As a wife who is attempting to be responsible, it's nerve-wracking. I often wonder how long I will continue to invest money in the sinkhole of my acting career before I decide to cut my losses and retire before I even start.

#2: The belief that IMDb credit and meals is acceptable payment

I spend many hours combing the casting websites hunting down roles. I eventually - finally - find a role for my demographics that's right up my alley: snarky sense of humor, redhead, and stage combat experience required. Set in a futuristic sci fi world.

Perfection, that's what that is.

And then I see that the role's pay rate is listed as "Credit and meals". In Los Angeles. And they sent the casting call all the way over here in Florida. But you'll get credit! And if you're lucky you might get parking validation! (Sadly, not a joke. Parking validation is commonly listed as a pay rate.)

Okay, let me try to set this straight: this is akin to asking a plumber to drive 24 hours to fix your toilet for a glass of lemonade and the chance to list you as a reference on your resume. ("Travels far, works hard, and you don't have to pay her a thing!")

Ridiculous.

If I could afford to fly myself to Los Angeles on a whim I could afford to fund a small budget film of my own. Actors invest a lot of time and money into the perfection of their craft. Production companies in turn should expect to compensate them for their time and expertise.

#3: The plethora of females roles who are hookers and/or have a sexual past

My guess is that approximately 95% of the roles for my demographics are either hookers or someone who is described as having a sordid sexual past. And the other 5% are usually stereotypical character actors (Because no one's ever seen the "bombshell blonde arm candy" or the "comedic fat girl" before).

Really?

That ratio does not even come close to accurately representing the world's female population. Females, like males, come in variety of shapes, sizes, personalities, and backgrounds. It's time that our entertainment industry realized that and start putting some thought into creating realistic female characters instead of inserting a few scantily clad females in a couple of scenes to hit on the males and calling it diverse.

(Note: I realize that there are some TV shows and movies that do create realistic and varied female characters and these I applaud. However, these are the exception rather than the rule. And these types of roles don't usually appear on the casting billboards for the no name actors such as myself.)

#4: The number of people who think that nudity is "tastefully done"

Conveniently, most of the casting billboards have a place where the casting call lists whether or not nudity is required for the role or present in the project. Most often I will see something that reads like this: "This role has a nude scene but it will be tastefully done and a bathrobe will be provided on set".

(As if having a bathrobe on set really matters when you're revealing all to the world on screen.)

Hate to break it to the wannabe artistes out there, but all nude scenes are pretty much the same. There is no such thing as "tastefully done". That's why most famous actors who can afford it hire a body double. After all, why show your butt or boobs on screen when you can just hire someone to do it for you with such grand pay rates as "parking validation" and the handy excuse that it's "tastefully done" to ease their conscience about disrobing - for free?

#5: The inability of anyone to correctly determine my age

I get it. I really do. When you write a story or a screenplay, you have a very specific look in mind for your character. Your lead male is definitely 6 feet 5 inches tall and ripped with a dimple in one cheek (preferably the left), and your lead female just has to be 30 years old but look 18 years old with flaming red hair but absolutely no freckles.

If you don't fit the parameters you don't fit the parameters. That's just part of the business. I understand that.

But I find it ridiculous when I fit every single parameter, nail the audition, and I get rejected from the role because someone doesn't think I look like I'm 24 years old. Guess what? I am 24 years old. True story. I have also been told that I look too old to play 21 years old and look too young to play 28 years old.

Meanwhile, famous stars my age are still playing high schoolers.

Stop trying to guess my age. Or get a different excuse.

#6: The lack of privacy

No, I'm not famous. No, I don't have paparazzi camped out in my front yard. No, I've never been featured in a tabloid. However, I have realized that being an actress requires me to give up certain aspects of my life as no longer private.

For instance, my height and weight are posted all over the internet for everyone to see. And every time that changes it is professionally expected of me to update all those entries. (Talk about motivation to not gain any weight!)

I would also be unable to get a tattoo or cut or dye my hair without telling the industry at large where the tat is located and what it is or purchasing a new set of professional photos to demonstrate my new 'do. Whether or not I skip my workout today becomes a professional - not a personal - matter as is whether or not I decide to overindulge in that year's supply of Blue Bell tomorrow. I even have public accounts (Twitter and Facebook) that are free to be trolled by anyone who so desires.

This is really less of a pet peeve and more of a professional expectation I've had to begrudgingly accept. Necessary? Absolutely. Completely comfortable with it? Nope.

#7: The constant reminder that I'm a nobody

I have mentioned this before, so I won't repeat myself at large. But it's really depressing when you've finally found a role that seems perfect - and it's paying to boot! - only to discover that they are specifically requesting that only "A-list" or "name talent" submit.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling good about myself and I don't particularly care about the submission fee I'll submit anyway. Just so you know.

But most of the time, I realize that everyone wants something from someone else. And more often than not, it isn't just a role well acted. It's a well-recognized name that does half of the marketing production team's job for them. And that's precisely what I can't give them.

What bothers me is that this mindset excludes many many very talented actors simply because they weren't born to famous parents. That seems like bad business to me. And not just because it makes finding a job harder for me.

Though that is what elevates it to pet peeve status.

*********************************************************************

Okay, thanks for listening to me rant. I hope it wasn't too painful to read, because it felt good to let out all my frustrations. So good that I didn't even include the last three pet peeves because I decided they were minor after all. See? You're helping. Good for you, you nice person you!

I'm putting myself in a more positive mind frame now. I'll write again next week!

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

I Scream for Ice Cream

I always wondered how they did those "year's supply" awards they give out for contests. Well, now I know, because I won a year's supply of Blue Bell Ice Cream! Evidently, a year's supply comes in 24 gift certificates each valid for a half gallon of Blue Bell.

I also won a coffee table book entitled "The History of Blue Bell". But I'm not sure anyone cares.

Technically speaking, I wasn't even the winner. I was just the runner up. But hey, there wasn't supposed to be a runner up to begin with, so I can still feel good about myself.

To backtrack: Blue Bell Ice Cream ran a contest in which people submitted a 20 second homemade commercial for Blue Bell for the chance to win an expenses paid trip to Brenham, TX to tour the factory and get a spot on their latest commercial. At the time, I was experiencing a lull in my auditions and my housework alike, so I figured: why not? At the most, I could break into the acting world by the weirdest way possible. And on the other hand, it's not like I have anything to lose.

So I spent a day writing a small script, filming it, and editing it.

Once I had the idea solidly in my mind, I began to film it. (Thank you, Allen, for my video camera and tripod!) Interestingly enough, as I was filming it I never quite felt like it was very good. But given that I had no real vested interest in it, I made my perfectionist self move on anyway. I began editing right afterwards, and then something amazing happened.

I changed the script on the spot.

Basically, I looked at the clips and decided that I didn't want to put them in the order that I had scripted it. I liked the clips much better when I told the story out of order rather than chronologically. The comedic value was worth so much more when I started at the end and then revealed how I got to that end.

The result was this video.

The Blue Bell representative who called me said that I had the judges laughing really hard and that they really liked my video. They evidently had a tough time of it selecting a winner, and when I didn't win they wanted to reward me anyway. So they decided to create a runner up position that they hadn't originally planned.

And now I will spend the next year or so struggling with not getting fat. Ha!

Surprisingly, I learned a lot just by making one 20 second video. I learned that you can tell a lot of story in 20 seconds. I am too much of a perfectionist even about things I supposedly don't care about. There is always room for more inspiration and editing. I am a lot more creative than I thought.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to go find more room in my freezer.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

3 Things I Learned On the Set: "Talisman"

"Talisman" features a family sent into chaos when they come by a talisman that forces them to tell the truth to each other.

Still from the short film "Talisman" by Tandem Media.
Initially, we were only going to film a demo reel for myself and a few others in my class at Tandem Media. A demo reel, for my non-acting friends, is a compilation of scenes which demonstrate your ability as an actor.

But then the powers that be got this inspired idea to convert the scenes they had written for our reels into a short film. As a short film, we can not only splice the videos into individual demo reels, but we can also submit the film to IMDb. If accepted, I would receive another credit on my IMDb page and resume!

I had a lot of fun on the set, but more importantly, I learned some things about my job:

1) "Bake at 400*F for an hour or until golden brown"

The first scene was filmed in the garden. We did this scene at 9am, because we wanted to do it before it got too hot out.

Too late.

I believe that "sweltering" is the correct term. I thought the scene would never end. I stood in the sun watering the same plant and having the same conversation with my "son" for about an hour.

One of those items people neglect to mention when discussing the glamorous life of film actors.

In between takes, the director was kind enough to fan me with his copy of the script, and I used paper towels to dab up all of the sweat on my face and inside my shirt. It was kind of awkward, but extremely necessary. I couldn't exactly shoot the scene with sweat spots on my shirt. So in my shirt went the paper towels.

I did get over the awkwardness eventually.

But not until I realized that it would've been unprofessional of me to do otherwise. As an actress, it's my job to play a role. And to do anything to disrupt that - neglecting to dab my sweat, moving off my mark to go inside between takes, complaining - would have been a failure on my part to do my job.

2) "Love turns work into rest."

Once we finished that scene, we retreated inside and the crew began the next scene - in which I did not have a part. Thankfully.

But I couldn't really afford to take a break.

I changed costumes, touched up my make up, and re-styled my hair. And when I had completed those tasks, I memorized and ran lines with my fellow actor for our next scene. In between I drank copious amounts of water and snagged a few snacks.

It was kind of exhausting. I'd been working all week on auditions, workshops, and updating my resume, etc. I get up every day at 4:30am to accomplish it all (and my housework) in a day. And here I was getting up early on my weekend, driving an hour to the set, and working through my breaks.

And then sometimes my job didn't involve much acting either.

The set up for the next scene took longer than the actual scene. They rearranged lights, adjusted angles, moved my stool - with me on it - multiple times, and set up props exactly so. All the while, I had to sit on my stool. I couldn't leave or move, because it was necessary that the crew be able to see how the light was hitting me.

At least I got to swap Monty Python quotes with the crew while I waited.

I even stepped out of my role as an actor and briefly played the role of crew while we filmed another scene. I gently waved a light reflector in order to make a candle flicker and bounce the light. Seriously. That was my job for about half an hour. Though in reality, on a set with a bigger crew, I would never have been allowed to do that.

And besides, the director assures me that I will get IMDb credit as "candle flickerer". Haha.

An actor's work is long and hard and usually involves more time off screen than on screen. And I am okay with that. Because I love it all.

3) "Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win"

After a lunch break and a rearranging of the lights because one of them went on the fritz, we began what I would term "my big scene" This particular scene required all the focus and energy I could muster.

I braced myself for the necessity of many takes, but we actually only did a few. I was quite surprised. I didn't receive a lot of direction either, and when I asked the director about it afterwards he said that good actors don't need a lot of direction because actors who do exhaust their director.

When we previewed the short last night in class, my classmates were very positive about my performance - even after class when we went out for drinks and it was no longer necessary to offer compliments or critiques.

The minimal number of takes, the director's lack of direction, the ravings over my performance - these are all comments and behaviors that I associate with really really good actors. And though I think of myself as a decent actress, I don't view myself as that good. For one thing, I lack experience on the set. For another, if I were that good, wouldn't I know it?

I suppose not, since clearly in the eyes of my professional peers, I am underestimating myself somewhat.

I realized that I need to learn how to evaluate myself properly instead of allowing my negativity to cloud my objectivity. The only way I will persevere and improve in this difficult craft is by recognizing what I can and do accomplish.

These are the things I learned on set of "Talisman". I can't wait to show you the footage - coming soon!

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Confessions of a Hearing Impaired Woman

#1: I chose my alarm clock based on the fact that when I tested it the lady in the next aisle over thought it was the fire alarm.

#2: I take my hearing aids out when I play Beethoven, so I can experience playing his music in a way most pianists cannot: with his ears.

#3: I rarely wear earrings because they draw attention to my hearing aids.

#4: I have "selective" hearing much more often than my husband realizes.

#5: I sleep through thunderstorms very well.

#6:  I told my best friend that I was the best best friend ever, because when I sleep on their couch she and her husband can still enjoy their marital bliss - and I would never know.

#7: I get extremely annoyed when movies label their English subtitles as "SDH" or "Subtitles for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing".

#8: I am uneasy about staying by myself or being responsible for my sisters overnight, because I am afraid that if something happened I wouldn't hear it.

#9: I am occasionally approached by little old ladies who want to know how I like my hearing aids.

#10: I really love getting to say "Yes!" when frustrated strangers ask "What are you? Deaf?"


I am partially deaf. You should all know this by now. I'm usually fairly open about it. For one thing, humor is how I deal with nearly everything. For another, it would be incredibly bad if I were walking around at a pool party with my hearing aids in and someone thought it would be funny to push me in. That would be a very costly mistake. (A $5,000 mistake, in case you're wondering.)

And yet, somehow I still manage to come across friends who apparently never realized that I'm deaf.

Actually, since I can still hear without my hearing aids (albeit not very well), I'm technically "hearing impaired". But I have what's termed a "moderate to severe" hearing loss. I've lost 50 decibels in the left ear and 55 decibels in the right ear. To give you an idea: imagine we were at a pool party and you had to raise your voice to talk to me over the crowd; if I was not wearing my hearing aids, then you would sound like you were talking at a normal conversational level. (Even though through your body language I would know you were speaking with a raised voice.)

There is some debate over when exactly I became hearing impaired.

For simplicity's sake, I usually tell casual inquirers that I've been deaf since birth. But the strange reality is that I passed all of my audiology exams until I was 4 years old. My father swears that one time pre-hearing aids he told me he loved me, and I responded "I love you, too" - even though I also had a speech impairment. The latter impediment was most likely the result of not being able to hear properly. In addition, my mother was very ill when she was pregnant with me - during the time that hearing normally develops in a child. So the general theory is that I was born with a defect which caused my hearing to deteriorate until it became really noticeable when I was 4 years old.

Though when we watch home videos it's painfully obvious that I can't hear them calling me.

When I was four, I got my first pair of hearing aids. They were gargantuan. And ugly. But I could hear. This was before the internet was really popular and definitely before YouTube was invented, so sadly, I have no video of my first hearing experience. However, I have a vague recollection of going to get my hearing aids and going to Burger King afterwards. My mother says we walked into Burger King, and I immediately looked around with wonder.

"Music!" I exclaimed.

My parents, thankfully, remarkably, didn't treat me like I was handicapped. They didn't set me apart from my siblings in any way. I never felt like a second rate human being, and they didn't lower their expectations for me. Quite the contrary. The public education system tried to label me as "special needs" but my parents insisted I be treated normally. They gave me a biography of Heather Whitestone (first deaf Miss America) and told me I could be anything. There is only one instance in my whole life in which they treated me differently as a direct result of my hearing impairment: they didn't allow me to get piano lessons when I first asked (at age 6) because they didn't think I would really enjoy music because of my hearing. They were wrong, of course, and they eventually took me to piano lessons (beginning at age 10). And that was the only time my parents ever doubted me because of my hearing.

Me, on the other hand, I doubt myself all the time.

When I switched from middle school to high school the government became extremely concerned that I wasn't in a special needs program, and I had to go to the doctor to be evaluated so that I could continue with my education as planned. The doctor shook his head over the bureaucracy and stated that I was "well-adjusted" and by no means did I need special education.

And that's how I've always thought of myself. Well-adjusted.

After all, I function normally. I joke about being hearing impaired all the time, because saying "I'm deaf" makes a great punchline in far more situations than you would think. I'm very open about it. I mean, here I am blogging about it. Sometimes people ask me if I ever wish I could hear normally (stupid question, really), and I usually reply with something kind of cheesy about how I'm looking forward to the fact that it will be Jesus speaking the first time I hear with normal hearing. I don't seem to have a problem with my state of being.

But appearances can be deceptive. Even to oneself.

This becomes very evident every year or so whenever one or both of my hearing aids break and have to be sent in for repairs. This is a process that usually takes weeks. In the meantime, I have a complete meltdown. I stress about everything, because any "normal" situation can now be considered hellish. Conversations become very difficult and frustrating. I worry that I won't be able to do whatever job I happen to have at the moment. I get angry when the hearing aids finally come back and we have to reset the settings, because the audiologist will invariably ask me what sounds normal. I just want to shout at him "I'm deaf, you idiot! I've always been deaf! I don't know what normal sounds like!" And then I realize, that I never will. I become reclusive, and I begin to hate myself.

Though to be more precise, I should say that the hate that I have for myself becomes more evident.

It's then that I finally realize that I've never really been okay with my hearing impairment. I know that there are things I can never do because of my disability, and I allow myself to be discouraged and give up on dreams because of it. At the same time, I've used it as an excuse to get out of things - say, learning a foreign language - I shouldn't have and I wish I hadn't. I hate it when I am labeled as "deaf" or "hard of hearing" and treated differently without a second thought, but then I find myself hypocritically hoping that my "disability" will be an angle that will boost my desirability for that scholarship or that job. I used to ask God to heal me, before I "matured" out of that hope. I was stunned when I heard of an acquaintance's miraculous healing. I felt jealousy and rage bubble up in me only to be drowned out by pure hopelessness.

I want to hear the rain drops on the roof while I drift to sleep. I want to be pushed into the pool. I want the questions "what?" and "say again?" to be expelled from my vocabulary. I want to wear large earrings without obnoxious little voices asking "what's that?!" I don't want to have a mild panic attack every time a battery dies. I want to be able to spend that $5,000+ on something else. I want to sleep soundly without fear. I want to have the option of doing whatever job I feel like doing. I want to earn my jobs because I'm good enough to get it - not because I'm a statistic. I want to whisper to my husband in bed and hear him whisper back.

My real confession is this: I want to be normal. I want to hear like other people can hear.

I'm not sure I will ever rejoice in my impairment. I'm no saint. But I do know that I can make the best of it. I can talk about it with humor. I can relish my unique abilities. I can be extremely grateful that my hearing aids last an average of 10 years. I can wear whatever kind of earrings I want. I can trust God to take care of me when I am alone. I can determine to do what I want to do regardless of my "disability". I can break stereotypes. I can strive to be the best at what I do. I can be happy for people who are in better circumstances..

I can be glad that I can hear.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

A Rose By Any Other Name

"What's in a name?" Shakespeare once asked.

Apparently, a lot.

I recently learned that a prospective role I adored was filled. Naturally, I was disappointed. But I was shocked to discover who had been cast. This person is not a professional actress, but happens to have a rather well known name. 

And I don't.

One of my acting coaches at Tandem Media recommended that I start my own Facebook page and blog regularly. The more people who "like" me on Facebook and "follow" me on my blog the more likely it is that some director someone will want to cast me. Apparently, they check up on these things to see if I have a following. Because it will appear that I have a name.

But I don't. 

I was never the popular one. The life of the party could usually be found far away from me. (That is, until I married him. Ha.) To be honest, I was usually content as a wallflower. I didn't care for the scrutiny of the spotlight, and I recognized that my sense of humor was not appreciated by everyone. I loved my small circle of nerdy and slightly odd friends. I didn't need anything or anyone else. 

Until I decided to become an actress.

Bigger names tend to draw more attention and crowds. Most of the time, Hollywood and the indie filmmaking business is just a popularity contest. Public relations for any given actor or movie means playing the people. Movies earn the big bucks when they employ well known actors. Sometimes casting calls will come through, and they will say something like "A-list only" or "name talent only". It's not a stretch to say that having a well-known name is almost required in this business.

And that's exactly what I don't have.

Learning such things about my wannabe profession makes it easy to despair. Why do I even bother? It's tempting to be jealous and bitter. Why should she get that role? And almost subconsciously, I begin to think of myself as a nobody. If no one wants me, then it must be because I am unworthy.

Welcome to the last few weeks of my thought life.

Yesterday, I was murmuring a melancholy tune about a rose when Shakespeare's famous line came to mind. In a world where a strict class system reigned, Shakespeare dared to suggest that a man is who he is regardless of his name or social rank. I realized then that though I may not be the most optimistic person alive, at least I have my stubbornness. Or naivete. Whichever you prefer.

Put quite simply: I refuse to bow to the belief that my name validates my skills as an actress.

I may not have the largest following. I may not be well known. I may not have starred in anything anyone has heard of. But I am an actress. A good one. Period. My name is irrelevant. I have been an actress my whole life. I learned my trade through never ending experience and training, and I am continually striving to become ever better through even more training and experience. This is what I'm good at. This is what God has given me. This is what I do: I inspire ideas. I invoke feelings. I create art.

This is my promise: I will not abandon my aspirations because the majority of filmmakers seem to believe I must be someone in order to be an effective actress. 

"A rose by any other name is just as sweet."

Monday, August 11, 2014

The Pain of Perseverance

Remember several months ago when I shared my exciting revelation regarding my acting ambitions? Let's call that a spiritual high. Did you notice the last several weeks when I didn't post anything at all? And the week before that when I just posted a gluten free blueberry muffin recipe? That's called a spiritual low and finding loopholes in my promise to keep writing no matter what. Even if it wasn't pretty. But lately I've had one big thing on my mind, and it wasn't something I wanted to write about. Sadly, the issue isn't going away. So I'm done avoiding it.

Let's talk about the Waiting Game.

There are days or years when you feel irrevocably called by God to do something important with your life, but nothing is occurring to make it happen. Sometimes it's just a matter of money. At other times, the opportunities are lacking. Or you could just be waiting on your life circumstances to change. But whatever the case, you feel that you ought to be doing something else. But it just isn't happening.

For some reason, God is telling you to wait.

Since writing about my exciting revelation, I have updated my resume, acquired professional head shots, signed a contract with a casting agent, put up various professional acting profiles (including IMDb - please "like" - but only if you like), taken on acting classes, spent several hundred dollars on professional development, and auditioned for no less than 16 feature films - and counting. Wanna guess how many times I've gotten so much as a callback? Wanna know how much money I've made out of my new profession?

Zip. And zilch. Cue doubt.

Don't get me wrong. I don't expect to be an overnight sensation. I know that success means failing often. Theodore Geisel's Dr. Seuss books were rejected by as many as 43 publishers. The Beatles were told they'd never amount to anything. Someone important at MGM told Fred Astaire he couldn't act and could barely dance. There are quite a few stories about famous people who overcame doubt and obstacles to achieve their dreams. It takes time. And it especially takes time to break into the acting profession. But you know, I want to have children eventually, and I don't have a whole lot of "married with no kids" time to waste. Oh, and I'd rather not throw away a ton of money either.

So if this is what God wants me to do, why doesn't he just lead me to my next film role already? Or at least send a callback to encourage me along the way? How do I know that this isn't just a foolish dream of a girl who thinks she can act? What if I'm pursuing something that God doesn't actually want me to pursue?

How do I discern between "wait" and "no"? When should I graciously concede that this is not for me?

This is one of those difficult times in my life when I don't have the answer. I've been down this road before and concluded that whatever happened, God would do what he deemed best. I even expressed excitement about seeing what he had in store for me. But God does require a little human action in his plan, and I am conflicted about whether or not I should keep persevering in this specific direction. I do know that if I hadn't tried, I would have always regretted it. I'm just not sure how long I want to keep trying.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Gluten Free Blueberry Muffins

Yesterday I had a really stressful work day. So basically, I decided that the best thing to do was make myself blueberry muffins. Because there really isn't anything quite so gratifying as beating eggs when you're frustrated. Except perhaps tenderizing meat. But sadly I didn't have any to tenderize.

So I ended up adapting a blueberry muffin recipe to make it gluten free!


Gluten Free Blueberry Muffins

1/2 cup butter (1 stick), melted
1/2 cup milk
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp xanthum gum
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp grated lemon peel
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup oat flour
1/2 cup quinoa flour
1 cup gluten free all purpose flour
1 1/2 cups blueberries

Preheat oven to 375°F. Mix together all the liquids in a bowl. Add the salt, xanthum gum, baking powder, and lemon peel. Stir thoroughly. Gradually add sugar and flours. Fold in blueberries. Dip into greased muffin tin. Bake for about 20-25 minutes.


I loved how the flours I milled with my new mill and my gluten free flour chart helped me make delicious and real tasting muffins without a second thought. Gluten free baking couldn't be easier! Or yummier. There may or may not be any muffins left after a mere 24 hours.