Lynne McGranger - Acting Up: Me, Myself & Irene

First published in Australia in 2021 by Echo

This edition published in the UK in 2021 by John Blake Publishing

an imprint of Bonnier Books UK

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Hardback ISBN: 978-1-78946-533-4

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-78946-534-1

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data:

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Cast shot of Home and Away and photo from Dancing with the Stars courtesy of Channel 7. All other photographs courtesy of the author.

Some names and identifying details in this book have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals. Where names have been changed, any likeness to a person by that name is purely coincidental.

Typeset by Shaun Jury

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Text copyright Lynne McGranger, 2021

The right of Lynne McGranger to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace copyright-holders of material reproduced in this book, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked the publishers would be glad to hear from them.

John Blake Publishing is an imprint of Bonnier Books UK

www.bonnierbooks.co.uk

For Paul and Clancy, with endless love

If you picked up this book and just realised that my name is actually Lynne McGranger, not Irene Roberts, youre not alone. Happy to answer to both Lynne and Irene (but honestly, I prefer Lynne), you may know me from the diner in Home and Aways fictitious Summer Bay. Or perhaps I taught your son tae kwan do, or was the receptionist at the chiropractors, or worked at the butchers in Tenterfield... all things Ive been accused of. Perhaps youve just seen my mug as you flicked through the channels on the telly.

As a self-confessed accident looking for a place to happen, Ive recently taken time to look back on my life to try to make sense of how Ive managed to play pretends professionally for over forty years. If youd asked me at eighteen if Id ever be the longest-running female cast member on one of Australias most successful soap operas, I would have laughed a cloud of marijuana smoke in your face. (Shocking, I know.)

And yet, here I am: twenty-nine years deep into Home and Away.

From a very young age, I could lie like a chop in gravy. Its not that I was malicious or conniving, I just found that it was an effective way of getting people to feel a certain way about me. It didnt matter if I was passing blame off on one of my friends or leading someone to believe I was a French backpacker, I loved the thrill of crafting a story.

It wasnt until I started teachers college that I made the connection that lying is a lot like acting.

After joining the drama club and getting my feet wet, so to speak, I also realised that when youre acting, you get the chance to be all of the things society doesnt want you to be. In my twenties and thirties, I was very much a people-pleaser, which is why it was so invigorating to play the mean drunk, the sensual stripper, the sexist 1950s singer, or the meek wife who finally stands up to her domineering husband. When I momentarily gravitated towards comedy, I got to further indulge in the type of self-deprecating humour that borders on catharsis. I finally felt comfortable in my skin, both on-and offstage.

As you read about my personal and professional decisions in the following pages, itll quickly become obvious that Im not a life planner. I didnt grow up with big dreams of being on TV or attending NIDA. I didnt map out a path to an awards podium.

The truth is, Im more of a one-day-at-a-time kind of girl.

In an industry known for its turbulence and quest for the next big thing, I bet youre wondering how someone like me ends up getting to play the same character for nearly three decades. (I also bet youre wondering if I still smoke pot.) To understand that (and to answer your question), we need to go back to Sydney in 1955.

If theres one universal truth to being a two-year-old, its that everything looks big. For me, the Queens Park Tennis Courts chain-link fencing was the biggest. Every week, my parents Bruce and Audrey would play tennis there and Id wander around nearby in my favourite chequered dress. Actually, its quite possible this was my only dress because my mother sewed like she cooked; everything was kind of inedible and mostly unwearable. In those days, Dad was a struggling accountant, Mum was at home with me and the fact that she managed to sew a decent looking merry-go-round border at the bottom of this dress was truly the stuff of miracles.

Anyway, back in 1955 I was peering through one of the diamond-shaped openings in the fence desperate to see my parents. From birth, Id been fiercely independent. I loved looking for bugs in the bushes, saying hello to families strolling by and every now and then catching my dad ace a point with his signature serve.

But there I was, sobbing; the definition of a terrified two-year-old.

I couldnt find them.

Convinced I was lost, my young mind began to spiral out of control. Would I starve to death because Id no longer be able to eat Mums famous homemade Carnation milk ice cream? (One of the few edible things she ever made.) Would I have to sleep outside for the rest of my life?

As I feverishly imagined what my pretty chequered dress and blonde hair would look like covered in dirt, twigs and leaves, I heard my name being called.

Lynne! Lynne! Were over here!

To say that I was relieved to hear my parents voices is an understatement. The endorphins that rushed through my body catapulted me from the fence and into my mums arms. Turns out that the entire time I thought I was lost (which could have been either three minutes or three hours), I was actually in their sight.

Youre probably thinking that age two is a bit young to hold such a clear memory, but I believe that you remember lifes extreme highs and extreme lows, and the fear of being lost was an all-consuming low. Childhood trauma aside, I often think of the Queens Park Tennis Courts because in hindsight the experience foreshadowed a couple of common themes in my life:

Bugger. Im lost. Again.

Why wait to see what happens when its so much easier to panic now.

For nearly sixty years, I spent a lot of time feeling unsure. If someone asked, Who has two thumbs and over-thinks things? Id be the first person to shout, Me! Me! From family to friendships to food to finding my mark on the first day of filming