Notes On Speaking

I’ve been speaking professionally (in the sense of standing up in front of groups of people and talking for a while, for money) since 2009 (though it didn’t become a real-deal part of my career until a few years after that), and I’d like to share some things I’ve learned in that time, having since given hundreds of talks to groups of five and crowds of 5,000 at schools, conferences, libraries, and everything in between.

First, a lot of people are curious about how the speaking world works, in the sense of it being an industry, and the specifics vary quite a lot depending on your niche and how you come to the profession.

Some people specialize in speaking to students, for instance, and that “university circuit” is kind of its own thing, while others do motivational talks and sell tickets, while still others use their presentations primarily to promote their books, speaking at bookstores and other places-of-business.

I’ve dabbled in different aspects of this industry over the years, and most of my income-earning activities in this space are derived from clients who heard about me somewhere (through my writing or my podcasts, they saw a recording of a previous talk, or someone who attended an earlier talk referred me to them), and those clients pay me to come speak to their students/members/employees—a fairly straightforward pay-for-service relationship.

Folks at the top of this industry can net upwards of $100,000 for a single gig (that usually requires a fair bit of notoriety and experience, or in some cases connections—former politicians often make a lot more than that, for instance), while those of us who come up through the speaking industry, rather than jumping into it asymmetrically, generally earn somewhere between a few thousand and a few tens of thousands of dollars per gig.

Second, another question I’m asked by people when they learn I speak publicly in this way is how to get better at it, and maybe even more so, how to get past one’s anxieties and nervousness leading up to the event.

I find that reminding myself that any nervousness I’m feeling is just nerves, just a biological reflex tied to the potential for failure (and more specifically: the possibility that I might fail in front of a bunch of strangers), and that it happens every time, that it’s not indicative of my preparedness or how well I’m likely to do, and that if I take some deep, belly-breaths and remind myself that I know what I’m doing, things will almost certainly go just fine.

Also, it helps to remember that the people in the audience, whatever the size and composition of that audience, will almost always be rooting for you—few people enjoy watching someone flop (it makes us empathetically anxious)—so they’ll go along with you if you have to pivot, will nod with encouragement, laugh at your jokes, and generally try to make things easy for you whenever possible.

If they don’t do any of those outward “I’m paying attention”-indicative things, that’s okay, too: it just means they’re paying close attention and are intensely focused as a consequence (that’s often the case, at least)(and even if it’s not, it’s useful to tell yourself that’s what’s going on).

Also: folks in the audience don’t know what you’re going to say, so even if you forget something, say things in the wrong order, or otherwise flub your plans, you can just redirect the ship from there and move forward toward a new, different-but-similar destination, with no one the wiser. Adjust as needs warrant, and it’s all copacetic.

It’s worth knowing about the spotlight effect, too: we tend to think everyone else is paying ultra-close attention to us pretty much all the time, and that they can therefore see our shaking hands, our nervous breathing, our sweaty armpits (and we believe they care about these things and are judging us for them).

In reality, of course, everyone’s mostly worried about themselves and their own armpits, so if you can plow forward even when your hands are shaking, chances are good no one will notice (or if they do they won’t care), and realizing that can be empowering.

Finally, some general tips for presenting:

Try to avoid loading up slides with text, as that muddles your message, is boring, and will result in people trying to read the text instead of listening to you.

Practice, practice, practice.

As you’re practicing, do your best to reduce or eliminate filler words (“um”s, “uhh”s, “so”s, etc…anything you repeat to fill space).

On that same note, embrace silences, especially when they help you set a good pace. Speaking too fast isn’t ideal, speaking too slow isn’t ideal, but moving at an intelligible speed that allows you to think and speak clearly, and which allows information you just provided to the audience to be absorbed before you hit them with more, is optimal.

We tend to use filler words to hold space in the conversation so we won’t be interrupted: that’s not going to happen here (you’re the one speaking, they’re all doing their jobs by listening).

Try not to hide behind podiums or other furniture. Try not to sit or put your hands in your pockets or swing your arms too wildly. Try not to be too wooden or disconcertingly animated.

Try not to make nervous jokes or exclusionary references/comments (stuff many people in the audience won’t get, or might find offensive).

When you’re practicing, focus on your transitionary points: the things you say to segue from one main point to another. Working from bullet points and connecting those bullet points with transitions rather than memorizing a speech, word-for-word, tends to come across as less mechanical, and it allows you to hone and refine your presentation over time (since it will be a bit different each time you present it).

There’s a lot more to this industry (and collection of sub-industries), of course, and the act of presenting a talk to an audience of any size, but if you take the time to become familiar with what you’re presenting, figure out ways to ease your nerves, and then do your best to share things that are compelling and for which you have obvious enthusiasm, you’re already in a good place. And from there it’s just a matter of practicing, iterating, and keeping tabs on what works for what sorts of audiences, over time.

If you found value in this essay, consider buying me a coffee :)





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