Jayne Erika - Pretty Mess

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Gallery Books

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Copyright 2018 by EJ Global LLC

Certain names have been changed.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Gallery Books hardcover edition March 2018

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Interior design by Jaime Putorti

Jacket design by John Vairo Jr.

Jacket photograph by Matthias Vriens McGrath

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Jayne, Erika author.

Title: Pretty mess / Erika Jayne.

Description: New York : Gallery Books, [2018]

Identifiers: LCCN 2017058421| ISBN 9781501181894 (hardcover) | ISBN

9781501181900 (softcover) | ISBN 9781501181917 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Jayne, Erika. | Television personalitiesUnited

StatesBiography. | Women entertainersUnited StatesBiography. |

BISAC: BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Rich & Famous. | BIOGRAPHY &

AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Personal Memoirs. | BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY /

Entertainment & Performing Arts.

Classification: LCC PN2287.J38 A3 2018 | DDC 791.4502/8092 [B]dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017058421

ISBN 978-1-5011-8189-4

ISBN 978-1-5011-8191-7 (ebook)

To Ann. wish you were here.

I made my stage debut at the age of five. I was in the St. John the Baptist Kindergarten production of Mrs. Jingle B . It was a Christmas pageant with singing that sounded more like screaming in unison. The dancing looked like a bunch of drunk bunny rabbits trying to find their way home after a bender.

I dont exactly remember the plot of the show. I was cast as an elf, essentially relegating me to the chorus. After the first few days of rehearsal, I realized that the girl who was cast in the leadas Mrs. Jingle B herselfwas not doing a very good job.

I was very confident. I walked up to my teacher and said, I can do a better job than her. The teacher agreed. In front of the entire kindergarten class and all of their parents, I took my star turn wearing a quilted plaid jumper, a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, and black mary janes. I might have had my hair cut short like a boys, but I was an Eve Harrington right from the start.

My mother, Renee, taught piano out of our house to make extra money. She is an excellent musician, but I never wanted to be one of her students. When we sat at the piano, she didnt have nearly as much patience with me as she did with her other students. I used to swat her away so I could practice on my own. This would always lead to fights between us. Eventually, when I was still very young, I lost interest in piano altogether. It was one of my ways of rebelling. Instead of learning her instrument of choice, I would let her accompany me while I sang songs and did little dance routines for our friends and family. I would become dizzy on the applause, bowing vigorously for the small crowd.

From the time I was three, before performing I would shut myself in the closet at my grandmothers house. I wouldnt come out until Id been properly introduced. Then Id walk into the room, hop up on the coffee table, and sing songs for the family. Mostly I did rhymes or things I had heard on my favorite TV shows, like Mister Rogers Neighborhood , Sesame Street , or Romper Room . I would not allow Renee to accompany me on the piano. These were a capella productions.

I dont know where I was getting this from, but I always wanted to be a showgirl. I imagined costumes, big stages, colored lights, an announcer calling my name, and walking out there and putting on a show for the people. I wanted the full production, like an MGM musical with a moving staircase. Some people are dying to sing and some people want to dance, but my goal was always to put on a show .

One day when I was about three, my mother and I went to go visit her friend Anne. She lived in downtown Atlanta and would sometimes babysit me. Annes neighbor, a woman who owned the Cheryl Neal and Associates talent agency, saw me playing by myself in the front yard.

Is this your little girl? she asked Renee. (I always call my mother Renee because I often saw her more as a peer.)

Yes.

She is just really cute and entertaining as hell, she said. I own a talent agency. I want you to bring her in and we can see what we can do for her.

She gave my mother her card. Shortly thereafter, we went to her office and signed with her as my agent. She would send me out to castings for local commercials or TV shows that needed a cute, blond little girl. This was not the Atlanta of today, where there are hundreds of shows being produced. Everything I was going out for was very small potatoes.

Renee or my grandmother would drive me around to the auditions. As a small child, I always had a fun time, even if I didnt get the gig. I booked some of the jobs, but of course I didnt get most of them. I remember doing some local commercials and a bit of modeling.

Later, in high school, I filmed a public service announcement in which I played a girl sitting on her bed listening to her boom box. I would love to be a rock star. Id be famous, I said. But some of them use drugs. And that scares me! This was my brain on cheesy PSAs; any questions?

When I worked, my mother would get the check, and she and my grandmother would put it into a savings account. Later, when I was a bit older, we would use the money I made to pay for my dance classes, singing lessons, and costumes. Even as a tiny tot, I was already putting my money right back into the business, a tactic I still employ.

I loved going on auditions back then, because it was like putting on shows. Even when I was just at home, I was always bouncing around the house, pretending I was performing. Renee knew she needed to do something to get all of this energy and creativity out of me, so I wouldnt drive her crazy. She enrolled me in ballet and tap at Art Linkletter Studio.