100 Monologues is a project where I’m writing monologue scripts, performing, and filming the pieces. Since I’m beginning to dabble in acting, the project is meant as a means for me to acquire more acting experience where I can work on refining my craft. You can find out more about the project here.

Below is the script from the “Unexpected Inventor” monologue. The script isn’t exact to my performance above, but my performance is based on it. If you’re a student who would like to perform this monologue for class, just make sure you credit me, Maggie Coyle, as the author. For any other use of the script, please contact me.

100 Monologues: #19 Unexpected Inventor

The way I saw it, no one thought I’d ever make something of myself. They assumed I was destined for nothing. That I’d just be another face in the crowd. Live another average life. Have an average house and insignificant job. Become an average housewife and pass on my average genes by having average kids. They had no idea I’d rise above my supposed “predestined” life. That I’d find a drive to become something else. That I’d live and breathe science and inventions. That I’d make things. That I could make a living making things. That people would actually buy my inventions. No doubt in my mind that everyone couldn’t believe their ears when they heard what I was doing.

100 Monologues is a project where I’m writing monologue scripts, performing, and filming the pieces. Since I’m beginning to dabble in acting, the project is meant as a means for me to acquire more acting experience where I can work on refining my craft. You can find out more about the project here.

Below is the script from “Talking In My Sleep” monologue. The script isn’t exact to my performance above, but my performance is based on it. If you’re a student who would like to perform this monologue for class, just make sure you credit me, Maggie Coyle, as the author. For any other use of the script, please contact me.

100 Monologues #18: Talking In My Sleep

I have this perpetual problem with talking in my sleep. I’ve been told I usually string together nonsensical words or babble on in a language of my own invention. Sometimes I yell out words or phrases.

I’ve always had this fear of telling the world my secrets while I’m asleep. Not being able to control what I say, bugs me. It’s odd that when my mind is taking a break, resting, I subconsciously continue talking. I’m powerless to control it.

And the thing is, I have no way of knowing what I say. All I can do is rely on the word of boyfriends or roommates. They can easily lie to me about what I’ve said…for all I know, I’ve already met my greatest fear…and told them all my secrets.

100 Monologues is a project where I’m writing monologue scripts, performing, and filming the pieces. Since I’m beginning to dabble in acting, the project is meant as a means for me to acquire more acting experience where I can work on refining my craft. You can find out more about the project here.

Below is the script from “The Funeral” monologue. The script isn’t exact to my performance above, but my performance is based on it. If you’re a student who would like to perform this monologue for class, just make sure you credit me, Maggie Coyle, as the author. For any other use of the script, please contact me.

100 Monologues: #17 The Funeral

I guess I always assumed that everyone I knew and loved was invincible or immortal or something. I didn’t think anyone I cared about could die.

When my sister died from leukemia at 18, I lost it. My world collapsed. I collapsed. I had trouble getting up each day. I had trouble doing simple things like walking. I became obsessed with my memories of her and had cried until my body couldn’t make any more tears.

Her funeral was something I’ll never forget – it seemed like a hazy dream with the volume turned down real low. The eulogies, the praying, the remembering… Before she was carried to her grave, we took one last look at her in the casket. She almost looked like she was only asleep – as she lay there wearing her favorite blue dress, faded from all the years of wear and tear. I traced over every feature of her face with my eyes – committed a mental sketch to memory. And then she was gone.

Her loss was so powerful – it shook me for years and years. I still can’t talk about it without crying… It made me realize how useless and powerless and human I am.