I didn’t set out to become a voice actor. I was just a kid in Utah, stuck inside during snowstorms, playing with my dad’s reel-to-reel recorder. My brother and I would make up these ridiculous little radio plays. We’d do all the voices, the sound effects, everything. We’d crack ourselves up. We had no clue people actually got paid to do that kind of thing.
Fast forward a few years—I’m working the graveyard shift as a DJ at a Top 40 station in L.A., reading the same promos over and over, wondering what the hell I’m doing. A friend at an ad agency says, “You ever think about doing voiceovers?” I hadn’t. But I was curious. So I started taking classes, working with coaches, learning how this whole thing actually works. I made a demo. Found an agent. Booked a few jobs. Then a few more. Then a career.
It’s been over 40 years now.
Before Google, There Was Hustle
Back then, I’d pick up the phone and call production companies directly. Real people would answer. I’d introduce myself, send over a reel, maybe get a meeting. These days, I still chase opportunities, but I loop my agents in too. I don’t mind the business side, but I didn’t get into this to be an accountant. I got into it because I love the work. The connection. The storytelling.
And yeah, if I land something through my own outreach, I send it to my agent. That’s “found money” for them—and they remember that. It keeps the relationship alive.
76 Takes for 14 Seconds
One of my early jobs was a Bank of America spot. Fourteen seconds of copy. Seventy-six takes. I left the booth thinking I blew it. Later, the engineer told me, “No, man—they always record that many takes. They’re never flying anyone back for pickups.”
If I’d known that going in, I wouldn’t have spent the whole session tearing myself apart. But that’s one of the lessons you learn: it’s not always about getting it wrong. Sometimes, it’s just how the machine runs.
I Don’t Look Like My Voice
People meet me and say, “You don’t look how I imagined.” I take that as a compliment. The beauty of voiceover is you’re not boxed in. I’ve played a frog in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, narrated corporate training for the Department of the Navy, and been the guy whispering in your ear about Clorox or Dole.
It’s just you and the mic. No costume. No lights. Just the voice. That’s the fun of it.
Teaching the Craft
Over the years, I started mentoring. First casually, then more seriously. I co-teach with Terry Berland in L.A., and I run master classes in North Carolina a couple times a year. I also do one-on-ones via Zoom. We work on reads, studio setup, getting demos tight—whatever someone needs.
Lately, I’ve been helping students figure out how to actually find work. Not just how to act, but how to hunt. The part of the business nobody talks about enough.
The Long Game
People ask me what keeps me going. After all this time, why not hang it up?
Simple. I still love it. I love walking into the booth and figuring out the best way to tell a story—whether it’s 15 seconds or a full audiobook. I love solving the puzzle of a script. And I still get that little jolt when I hear my voice out in the world.
You know what I tell my students? We get paid to play. That’s the gig. That’s the magic. And I’m still all in.