Never waste a crisis

I spent the final 123 days of this election season rewatching the hilarious TV showVeep. I love that show! The writing is so fresh, the acting superb. And laughing at truly awful people who make terrible mistakes is a comforting catharsis.

I’ve been thinking a lot about President Selena Meyer who, when caught up in a crisis, reacts by asking: How can we make this work for us?

Of course she means it in an opportunistic, selfish way. And by “us” she means herself and the sycophants that orbit around her. But I can relate to her question. In an attempt to stave off feelings of doom when experiencing a reversal or calamity, I try to remember that a crisis is a terrible thing to waste. 

We may be entering a new era of compounding crises. Certainly something in the world has shifted, But here’s where the Meyer question comes in. You have the expertise. You can help navigate the twisty road of our current problem. Great! But how do you get the word out? How do you position yourself as that highly sought-after “go-to person?” 

Well, you may have to take a trip back in the time machine. Because the best way to calmly meet today’s upheaval is to be thoroughly prepared. You can’t do that at a moment’s notice. But if you have worked ahead, not just on present-day concerns, you’ll be ready when opportunity knocks.

Likewise, the time to define/refine how you appear to those seeking your help isn’t when they come to you in a crisis. Prepare before by developing your brand and finding your voice. Practice this so it becomes second nature. So you won’t have to think about it when you’re under pressure to perform.  

And put your process in place. A working relationship with coaches and creative partners you can count on is invaluable. The clients with whom I have an established relationship are also ones with whom I have a regular routine. So we are able to jump on every opportunity when it comes up and make it work for them.

Let me know how you take life’s lemons and make lemonade. We’re going to need everyone’s recipes to get through the next couple of years!

That reminds me of a story . . .

It’s election season. 

And you’ve probably been hearing lots of life stories from strategically-dressed strangers who want to be your new best friend.

There’s a good reason for this: research shows that personal stories make your message stick for everything from team updates to product launches, even stump speeches. And that stickiness is what we all want, right? 

Stories can be powerful tools. But like all tools, they only work if you use them correctly. Here are 3 things to consider when deciding which slice of your story to include in any speech:

• Is it true?

  • I shouldn’t have to say it, but . . . making things up, or even stretching them to fit your purpose isn’t a good idea — because someone will always find out. And your most prized attribute as a speaker—credibility—will have vanished.  

• Is it relatable?

  • Does this put you in the room with your audience? Does it make you one of them? This is the biggest reason people give for including stories, yet too often they miss the mark. 

• Is it pertinent?

  • Even the best personal story can fall flat if the audience is left wondering “so what?” Anything that slows you down or gets in the way of your message sends your audience down a one-way street with a roadblock. You can lose them for good.

This election season is rich with personal stories. Some further the candidate’s mission of connecting with voters. And some are just plain . . . weird. 

Want to make your message memorable? Use a good story. But be careful: improper use can result in injury.

A practical magic wand

Have you ever had a “magic wand moment?”

Many of my clients secretly hope I will whip out my magic wand and wave it over them, offer an incantation, and voila! They will become fabulous speakers instantly.

I have to tell them that, sadly, I do not have that kind of powerful magic to share.

A bit further on in our engagement they might say, “You’ve told me all about the breathing and posture and stuff  . . and that’s .  . . interesting (?), but I thought you were coaching me to be a better speaker. Where does this fit in?” I tell them that is the magic; the road to becoming the best speaker starts with mastering that “stuff.”

We need to get back to basics. Because we’ve forgotten this truth--as we left childhood exuberance behind and entered the self-conscious teen years, on our way to becoming “professional”—Speaking is a Physical Activity!  I never tire of advising clients: “get out of your head and into your body.”

Good speakers plan, prepare a dynamic text, then practice it. Great speakers get in the flow. They use their bodies as tools of communication. And their level of physical focus leaves them open and available to connect.

That connecting is what audiences respond to. And I’m not just talking about convention speeches from a big stage. Connecting with your team members, clients, and project partners is essential, too. You can’t do that if you’re stuck in your head second-guessing yourself, or getting lost in the weeds of too much detail.

It isn’t about analyzing your “style” or thinking about how best to strike the proper tone. It’s about experiencing your message. And sharing that experience with your listeners. It may sound mysterious, or even magical. And breathing exercises and physical awareness may seem an odd, even ”woo-woo,” place to begin a speaking practice. But they are the only strategies that always work!

Not just funny voices

Sunset on Boothbay Harbor, Maine

August has been a busy month for me: a family vacation (with new dog!), a final draft of a new play, new clients, and—probably like a lot of you—hours spent engrossed in the Olympics and the Democratic Convention. So this newsletter is coming in just under the wire.

While on vacation. my kids brought up a habit I have had since they were small: my tendency to do “funny voices,” when quoting certain people—notably family members. I think this is an occupational hazard for an actor/playwright, the impulse to differentiate voices. I know it both amuses and annoys my kids. Admittedly, I probably go overboard in this regard in my private speech. But I hear a lot of monotony in public speaking, and, as a coach, sometimes I need to address my client’s lack of vocal “color.”

Listening to the Convention speakers it struck me that the contrast between the great ones (looking at you, Michelle Obama), and the lesser ones, is huge. Someone really needs to tell folks to trust the microphone! Of course anyone might have a natural impulse to shout out to a crowd that big, but modern technology has made it easier for us to communicate more conversationally. Not only does yelling make you seem overly aggressive, when you yell, you have no vocal variety, no variation of pitch, tone or tempo: it is ALL CAPS, ALL THE TIME. 

This is not an effective way to get any point across, Much better to speak with tonal and tempo shifts. No need to go as far as I do in my family circle and give character voices to anyone you are quoting. But, just for fun, you can try as many voices as you like when you’re practicing a speech. As we say in acting class and the rehearsal room, go for it: if it’s too much, you can always pull back. But don’t be timid. Even at high volume, timid is boring!

Stranger than fiction

See why Without Prohibition, There'd Likely Be No NASCAR (Photo: Library of Congress)

If you do any kind of public speaking or presenting, you get lots of advice about how to write a good speech. And you probably hear how important storytelling is. And it’s true. As a dramatist, I can vouch for the power of story to help your audience connect with your message

But many speakers just insert stories that are not relevant to their content, taking the listener away from the central message. These are usually stories thought to be “cute” or “humanizing” or - Heaven forbid! - jokes disguised as stories, meant to “lighten things up.” (More on what I think about that here—an oldie but goodie).

Sometimes speakers sense a good story will help make their point more easily. But the problem is, they don’t have a specific story to share. So they make one up. Unless you are a professional actor or a very good conman who is skilled at “selling” untruths, don’t do this! Audiences tend to be skeptical these days. So if you rely on invented stories, that fact will catch up with you sooner or later. Your credibility will take a hit.

I write plays based on history. I do a lot of research. And I am always amazed when I stumble across a nugget so juicy I can’t wait to write about it. (If I had a nickel for every time I said to myself “you can’t make this stuff up” I would have retired to my villa in Tuscany by now!)

When readers of my early drafts question plot points or character choices—things that actually happened—saying they’re implausible, I realize it’s my job to more clearly establish the world of the play. I make adjustments, perhaps shift focus a bit, so that the audience will see these things as odd or thought-provoking, but somewhere within the realm of possibility.

It may take bit more digging to find a true story that provides a frame for your speech or supports its thesis, but the world is full of stories. You have a huge library of them at your fingertips. Leave the made-up stories to the fiction writers.

Because truth is stranger than fiction!

Getting it out of my head!

Constance Gold Parry as Charlotte and Kateri Cale as Grace in Echo Theatre’s World Premiere production of Beyond the Yellow Wallpaper. Photo by Zack Huggins.

A couple of weekends ago I had the thrill of seeing Echo Theatre’s amazing production of my play Beyond the Yellow Wallpaper onstage in Dallas. It was a terrific production. The critics agreed:The Dallas Morning News called it “emotionally resonant” (read the review here) and Onstage NTX lauded it as “riveting” (more here)

It’s always a fraught experience to see productions of your own work. You’re bursting with pride, yet somewhat anxious — like watching your baby (now all grown up!) cross the graduation stage and venture out in the world. But as I was sitting there, watching, I was happily surprised by the actors’ embodiment of the world I had created. Not because I did not recognize it, but because I did!

Going into the performance, I felt fairly confident it would look familiar. Before and during the rehearsal process I had several calls with my excellent director, Caroline Hamilton, and Kateri Cale, Echo’s Managing and Artistic Director (who also played the role of Grace) to clarify some things, make a few moments clearer. They said they “got it.” But Playwright World is full of tales where that means “I hear you, but don’t think that is what your script really says. So I’ll make it better!”

The incredible cast and creative team at Echo did, in fact, get it. They made the world I saw in my head spring to life — not exactly as I imagined it (and who would really want that?). But better!

Communicating in general, and communicating through art in particular, is always a tricky thing. You never know exactly how someone is hearing what you say or interpreting what you write. Because you cannot be in their heads. You certainly don’t want to over-explain: that is death to art and kills a good speech.You need to rely on all your tools: images, metaphor, examples, stories. Prepare like never before. Shape it just right. And then trust those who pick up your message will understand, and shepherd it on its journey. Like launching your child into the world.

What to believe?

So, now we know: Cass Elliot did not die from choking on a ham sandwich! That’s the lead for many of the articles reviewing Owen Elliot-Kugell’s new biography My Mama, Cass, 

Like much of America in 1974, I really liked Cass Elliot’s voice and bold, original persona. I rooted for her to have a big solo career. And then, on the cusp of major success, she died at 32. The story circulated that she choked on a ham sandwich, but now we know it was untouched. 

Why do myths like that persist? The person responsible came clean to Elliot-Kugell in 2020, but long before that, the widely publicized 1974 autopsy concluded the cause of death was a heart attack.

The persistence of this myth caused pain and trauma not only to Elliot-Kugell, but harmed her mother’s reputation.

Myths can harm in other ways too,This week, I read, once again — in a newsletter that should know better — advice to job-seekers about how to ace an interview. Just apply the 7-38-55 rule, it said.

I could not believe I was reading that! The idea that 7% of all verbal communication is the words you say, 38% is tone of voice, and 55% is body language was debunked by the man who did the original research in 1967! You can hear a rare interview with Dr. Albert Mehrabian here, where he discusses how his studies have been misinterpreted.  And read why his specific research, limited to the listener’s perception of conveying emotion through a single word, does not apply to most interpersonal communications here.

You see how this could catch on, though. It encourages anyone engaged in public speaking, whether for a keynote, a board meeting, or an interview, to minimize preparation. After all, how you look and sound in the moment matter so much more than what you say, right? So just practice your power poses and smile and make eye contact and you’ll be fine, easy peasy. If only.

I tell my clients that sometimes the things they hear as “conventional wisdom” are really debunked myths. They may sound funny or odd (death by ham sandwich) or easy (content is only 7% so why not wing it?), but they can be harmful. If it seems too easy, it probably is. 

Breath-taking spring

Here’s a cool bit of brain science news: MIT researchers have found “a brain circuit that drives vocalization and ensures that you talk only when you breathe out, and stop talking when you breathe in.” Using mice, scientists have located where and how these essential functions are controlled.  And, they note, that while speaking is important, the need to breathe overrides it. Lead author Fan Wang, an MIT professor of brain and cognitive sciences, says “Breathing is a survival need. Even though these neurons are sufficient to elicit vocalization, they are under the control of breathing. . .”

Breathing is a survival need. As I say to my clients, if you’re not breathing, you’re not living. Quite literally! Breathing is fundamental to life (I realize again, as I sniffle my way through springtime allergies).

Breathing is also the best way to deal with “nerves,” relieve stress, and center yourself so you can communicate with authentic presence. If you’ve worked with me, you probably know I have no magic wand to turn you into a better speaker. But if I did, It would be learning how to harness the power of your breath. Doing a cursory search of my blog, even I was surprised how often “breathing” as a topic came up.

It is obvious to me that working on your breathing is a handy way to quell “pre-performance anxiety.” But to some of my clients, that seems too simple. So I need to pull out backup from respected outlets.This has always been a favorite, from Harvard Business Review: researchers found that workshop participants who learned deep breathing methods and “underwent a stress task that simulated a high-pressure performance situation, akin to presenting at a business meeting [italics mine] . .  .held steady in terms of breathing and heart rate, suggesting the [breathing] program had instilled in them a buffer against the anxiety typically associated with anticipating a stressful situation. This meant that they were not only in a more positive emotional state, but also that they were more able to think clearly and effectively perform the task at hand.”

Deep breathing helps you meet life’s challenges. And as I go through another box of tissues, I try to take as many deep breaths as I can. Pollen season is short, but breath is forever!

Fresh as a spring breeze

The season of spring always inspires me. I love seeing nature wake up and come alive again after the cold and dark of winter. In my garden pots, bulbs are sprouting and buried shoots reach toward the sun. My Boston fern has been rescued from its indoor sojourn and is happily regaining its strength on my back deck. This time of year I really do miss putting my hands in a garden bed, but NYC offers many other ways to fill my soul.

Earlier in the month (on a cold, rainy winter evening) I was lucky enough to see the Carnegie Hall debut of Tony Siqi Yun, a gifted pianist who played Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No, 2 with the Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal. It was a truly remarkable performance! This piece is a favorite with concert pianists, yet Yun made it his own in a way that made it feel fresh, new–like it was just happening for the first time. There was an electrifying immediacy to the energy he was sharing with the orchestra. It was one of those magical experiences when performer and audience are all in the moment together. Personally, I find this rarely happens inside the concert hall, where technical perfection and grounded interpretation are the goals. This performance had these, to be sure. But it transcended them.

I thought of this–an artist being in his flow state–when I was asked by clients in a workshop last week about the “problem” of over-preparation and sounding “canned.” This is a question I have gotten a lot (I first blogged about it ten years ago!). The truth is, the problem isn’t spending too much time preparing. It’s how mindfully you spend that time. If you memorize something with the goal of getting all the words in your head so you can go on autopilot when you speak–then yes, that is bad. But if you know your material so well that you are actually embodying it, living inside of it, and sharing that experience with your audience, magic can happen.

Like the gifted performer, a speaker absolutely needs to be prepared. The goal is to know your content so well you can share it with freshness and immediacy. Only then will you connect with your audience in a new, magical, memorable way. Like the first breezes that bring a hint of spring.

Hurry up and . . . what?

Pennelllville, Maine

I was in Maine late last month, just in time for a big snowfall. I had a couple of excellent crisp, quiet walks, crunching through the snow. Not all the roads were plowed, so I had to walk at a more measured pace. It got me thinking, again, about the value of slowing down.

I have also been reflecting on the recent lawsuit against OpenAI filed by the New York Times in federal court in January, as well as the big one filed in September by the Author’s Guild and Many Famous Authors. I’m still not a huge fan of this technology, for reasons enumerated here. But even if I weren’t a writer, I wonder if I’d jump on the bandwagon.

Because I am not at all sure what the point is. I am told AI will help us beat the clock by accomplishing in ten minutes what it now takes hours to do. But then I wonder: will we make good use of all that extra time? If we work for others, surely our workload will increase accordingly. If we work for ourselves, what will we lose by speeding it all up?

I have some tedious tasks to do (bookkeeping, bill-paying) and I’m thankful for my technological helpers. But to race through everything else? To outsource your thinking? To trust even your first steps, bullet points and rough drafts—which are often where the real drilling down happens—to an intelligence that is not only external, but so very “other”? We already have formulas for creating television scripts, screenplays, popular songs. I give my clients templates for writing speeches. These aids are fine. They help with getting started. Then it’s up to us to fill in the meaning.

Of course that takes time. But what is so awful about that? Does doing it faster always mean it is better? The people I know who embrace AI seem enthralled by the novelty. But they can’t assure me that speed equals quality. When I ask what they are doing with all their extra time, they are either checking for hallucinations, or moving onto more work. They are still engaged in labor.

I’m all for labor-saving devices: ask my family how grumpy I was over Christmas when our washing machine broke. But when it comes to thinking—reflection, rumination—Ideas unfold and develop over time. The labor of thinking cannot be rushed. This is what our amazing human brains have evolved to do. And we should celebrate every time we use them, even for the slog of getting those first thoughts on the paper or on the screen. No other species can do that. We should slow down and savor our exceptionalism!

Keeping my balance

Brower Park, Crown Heights, Brooklyn

Last week it was cold and snowy here in NYC. And while many of us were glad to see snow for the first time in almost two years, we did have to re-learn how to navigate slippery sidewalks and streets. When I went on errands and to appointments, I was mindful of shortening my usual stride and slowing down. Every step became an opportunity for balance.

Interestingly, that was how I thought I’d improve my 2024 (I don’t call it a “resolution” because then it’s doomed!): I promised myself I would seek greater balance in my life. I’m sure I’m not alone when I say “I’ve got a lot going on this year!” For me it’s growing the client roster for my public speaking coaching practice, helping produce a colleague’s new play with Pipeline Playwrights, and doing rewrites for a world premiere of my latest play being produced in Dallas in May. Along with volunteer and family activities! Not to mention just living in a world where events near and far can threaten to tip even the most equanimous of us into an abyss of despair. So I need to find mental balance.

And as I grow older, I am also aware of the need to strengthen my physical balance, as last week’s somewhat precarious walking reminded me. I have been working on that in my yoga practice, and am lucky to have a son who is a personal fitness trainer. He offers tips when I ask. I also have new boots with a good tread!

And when I stumbled and fell on 7th Avenue in Brooklyn the other day, I made a “note to self” of another attribute I need this year - flexibility. Not succumbing to rigidity enables me to “fall right” — and also think more clearly.

Our bodies and our minds are integrated. Neither functions alone. As those of you who have worked with me know, the breath that vibrates your vocal folds, enabling you to speak, is the same breath that calms you down and gets you out of your nervous zone (stretch/whooshes, anyone?). So when you stumble, or otherwise experience a physical wake-up call, you may also find a clue to a mental practice that’s important to cultivate.

I wish you a 2024 in which you find balance and stay flexible. Physically and mentally. Watch your step. And don’t forget to breathe!

Make a statement

Outburst by Judit Reigl, Neue Nationalgalerie, Berlin

Speaking is not the same as talking. Sure, the basic moving parts are the same, but we engage them in different ways. In conversation, most Americans use a teensy part of their vocal ranges. If you listen to people talking to each other (some might call this eavesdropping), you’ll notice their voices mostly stay around the same three pitches, unless they are trained actors or singers. There are exceptions, or course, but studies have shown that most of us (unless under emotional pressure), stay within our narrow pitch range.

We also shy away from making declarative statements. This may have to do with the fact that we view the conversation as always evolving, as one conversation partner adds to what the other is saying. Or it may be because we fear saying anything definitive, as that might be perceived as conversation-ending. I have observed this varies according to gender, generation, and region — not only where the speaker learned to talk, but where they are now. I am sure there are studies on this, too.

There are many reasons why you talk to your friends in a series of monotone sentence fragments that never have an endpoint. But when you are a speaker, you pretty much have to do the opposite.

Work on your vocal variety to keep your audience engaged. Using more pitches in your natural voice colors your words in a way that expresses your intention. And don’t shy away from making a statement; if you wrote a period, say it! Engaging in “uptalk,” or “upspeak” (when you don’t use a downward inflection at the end of your sentence) leaves the listener wondering if you believe what you’re saying. When I point out to clients that they sound tentative unless they really end their sentences with a definite period, they assure me they 1000% mean what they say. But if I record them and play that back, well…

It can be hard to break the habit of casual “talking”. But you need to if you want to step up your professional speaking game and bring your leadership presence with you wherever you go. It’s far less cumbersome than putting lifts in your shoes or making sure your power wardrobe is back from the cleaners. Even if you lose your luggage, you’ll be recognized as a leader because you sound like one!

Snapshots from the past

Alexanderplatz, Berlin

I recently returned from a trip to Germany and France, where my husband and I saw many sights, walked many miles, and ate a lot of deliciousness! We visited friends old and new, as well as our daughter, who has recently relocated to Berlin. It was a very active 12 days. No relaxation here! But my mind was engaged on a different plane than usual, so it afforded me a mental getaway.

I grew up hearing about “the Iron Curtain” on a regular basis, so we had to see some East Berlin sights. We walked to Checkpoint Charlie, the Brandenburg Gate, and visited the DDR Museum, billed as “the largest, most interactive and diverse exhibition focusing on the GDR in Berlin.” In a not-quite-large-enough space (was that the point? to make us feel cramped and penned in?) there were many intriguing artifacts, as well as a re-creation of a kitchy East Berlin flat, complete with manual typewriter (which younger people took great delight in).

We walked to the museum after taking the U-Bahn (highly recommend it!) to Alexanderplatz, site of the largest demonstration critical of Soviet rule. This mass gathering on November 4, 1989 was organized by activists and artists—writers, actors directors—who understood the galvanizing power of a few good speeches. Five days later, the Berlin Wall fell.

Words can lead to great change, even regime change! Which is why freedom of expression has been recognized as a human right in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights by the United Nations. And is enshrined in the First Amendment to the U.S. constitution.

Yet we need to be vigilant, and guard against devious exploitation of this freedom. Because today there are speakers, silver-tongued or fire-breathing, who lead the vulnerable and gullible down dangerous paths to personal and communal ruin. So we must be constantly engaged in the essential, unsexy part of communication—critical listening. Critical, as in: thinking, analyzing, synthesizing.

Ben Franklin said that here in America, we have created for ourselves “a republic, if you can keep it.” It’s a challenge we’re continually living into. But there’s a big world out there—with plenty of lessons to learn from.

Learning from Barbie

Photo courtesy of Flickr, https://www.flickr.com/photos/romitagirl67

Hope you had a good summer! I spent most of August working, but fun working— writing Act II of a newly commissioned play. (More on that later.) I did manage to enjoy a few summertime activities, though, including seeing the summer blockbuster movies. The pervasiveness of all things Barbie brought back so many memories!  When I was young, I had her Dreamhouse, her car, I even had her books. One of them, Barbie Goes to a Party, I read, reread, and re-reread. It’s vintage, but you can still buy it!

There is a very simple plot: Barbie dresses for a party. But much suspense: what will Barbie wear? So many options! Because Barbie is all about her clothes. But she also has a keen desire to wear what’s most appropriate to the occasion. As she muses about exactly what kind of party she’s going to, she changes outfits. Many, many times. In the end, she learns she’s invited to a picnic, so she chooses rolled-up jeans and a white Oxford shirt—as do all the other “casual” Barbies and Midges.

It’s an article of faith In BarbieWorld—at least in this particular book—that you never wear anything not quite “right.” If you did, not only would you not fit in, but you might not be able to have fun. Who could enjoy a picnic in a ballgown and heels? Barbie was always Barbie, though - no matter what she wore.

This book came to mind recently while discussing “authenticity” with a client. Because often clients struggle, thinking they need to pin down one perfect expression of Self. That’s as likely as Barbie’s closet holding only one outfit - a single ensemble to suit myriad occasions. As Walt Whitman said, we all “contain multitudes.” We adjust our attitudes to various situations the way Barbie adjusts her wardrobe. That doesn’t make us less authentic. It makes us more flexible. I tell my clients to think of it as “stepping into your leadership shoes” or “wearing your mentoring hat.” The trick is freeing yourself from rigid definitions of “authentic self.” Head-of-the-Boardroom-Table You is not the same as Behind-the-Podium You, or Interview You, or Cocktail-Reception You. it is definitely not Picnic You.

If changing your outfit helps you make these transitions, go for it! But know that a mental shift, like doffing one imaginary hat and putting on another, can help. too!

As likely as a cat enjoying a novel

Driving home from visiting family in Ohio over July 4th, I happened to catch a reprise of a March interview with Dina Nayeri, whose latest book Who Gets Believed needs to be on my reading list. This particular book deals with people undergoing high-stakes questioning whose believability is questioned by authorities. The author concludes we cannot possibly judge the behavior of others we don’t know well: “People behave differently based on their fears, their traumas, their shame, the culture they're from.” The interview also touched on “cues” sent by neurodivergent people who don’t follow the dominant codes of social interaction, but who may actually be just as engaged or interested. This radio segment gave me much food for thought.

We are conditioned by popular culture and wishful thinking to think we can “read” people. Because wouldn’t life be grand if we could! But anyone who has ever been married, or is/has a parent, child, or friend, knows how hard it is to always accurately “read” even those nearest and dearest to you!

This myth that “reading your audience” is an essential skill for a successful speaker is one I hear time and again. I have to explain to just about every new client of mine why this is a fool’s errand. And why those who suggest you need to do this may not know much of anything about public speaking, but do watch a lot of crime drama.

I have blogged about this many times, going all the way back to March 2014 here, March 2015 here, and January 2018 here. I am not sure there is much more to say. Except that I'd be happy to share other speaking strategies with you that will actually help you meet your speaking goals.

Happy Summer!

The right tools for the job

Have you ever been coached on how to give a speech, or improve your leadership communication style by someone who tells you “just breathe” and “use that nervousness”? Or been told that to ascend the career ladder, you need to gain some gravitas and/or embrace your executive presence? This is all good advice. But it also tells you what to do without telling you how to do it. Which can lead to confusion, or worse—feelings of inadequacy—when you realize you don’t exactly know how to do something that sounds so simple when someone else says it.

Fortunately, there are those of us who have taken a deeper look at the processes involved in implementing that good advice. We can help you understand what is happening physiologically when you speak—or in some cases, just think about speaking. What happens to your body and mind when you walk into a room and all eyes turn to you, expectantly. Why your voice shakes, your words come faster, your thinking gets fuzzy…. all that good stuff! And we can give you tools to fix these problems, not just put bandaids on them for the time being. We teach you which tools can best serve you in a given situation, then show you how they work and how to fix them when they get dull or otherwise damaged.

Some of my readers know that earlier in my life I toured the country performing a one-woman show I wrote based on the life of Charlotte Perkins Gilman. After performances I’d often have discussions with the audience about Gilman, the play, and occasionally what it was like to tour a solo performer piece. One question I got a lot was “How can you remember all those lines?” And I’d go for the laugh: “How do you know I do?”

All joking aside, I only had myself to rely on. So I needed to develop a completely reliable technique which involved not only deeply connecting to the inner life of the character, but also having the physical and mental stamina, flexibility, and expressiveness to share that life onstage. Everywhere. Every time.

The truth is the process of memorization is integral to what an actor does. There are many things actors do that seem difficult—maybe even magical—to non-actors. But they are the result of training, of learning why you do what you do and how to do it. And practicing every chance you get.

If you want to become a dynamic, compelling speaker or to look/sound more like a leader, I have good news: You can accomplish this by learning to use just a few of the tools actors must master. The better news is that I can help you put together your own unique toolbox. And teach you to use these tools wisely. So you’ll know how.

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Of creativity and chatbots

I’ve been thinking a lot about AI lately. As a member of Dramatists Guild, I support members of The Writers Guild of America who are striking for fair wages and the assurance that their jobs will not be outsourced to artificial intelligence. Like many content-makers, I was at first intrigued by the idea of ChatGPT. As a playwright who feels like writing a first draft is a long slog, I thought maybe it could be a useful tool for me. As a speaking coach, I wondered if it could help my clients craft speeches and presentations.

But when I did some research into what was needed to make this a viable tool, it became clear that this was a classic “garbage in, garbage out” situation. As I understand it, to get a good ChatGPT result, you have to ask the right questions. If you are looking for a first draft of a speech, for example, you have to frame your specifics (audience, occasion, scope). If I’m asking for a draft of a scene for my play, I have to give clear parameters as to character, setting, plot, etc. to come up with anything of value. And then there is the question of training it to strike the right tone and write in your voice.

If I’m going to all that effort, I’m already a good way down the road to my second draft. Those crucial first decisions are the hardest. Once those are made, I have a clear map to follow. So - do I really need the chatbot’s help? If I were pressed for time and there were no expectations of additional creativity, I suppose I’d take it.

I can understand the allure of using the the newest, smartest tools available. But those of us engaged in the fundamentally human act of storytelling are practicing an ancient art, a “tale as old as time.” I’m not closing the door to chatbots. I may incorporate them in the future—when I can trust the info they give us, But it will be a long time before they will create stories or speeches that are as spell-binding as the ones we — you —already can create. If you’re not sure where to start, give me a call. We’ll generate distinctively human, effective content. And have some fun!

Picking up on pace

I had the unique experience last week of watching a public Zoom reading of my latest play, Saltwater Farm. It’s a feeling not unlike waving goodbye to your kids when you drop them off at college: you’ve done your best, now let’s see how they develop under others’ influence. Your power to make big change is limited, but you can observe and offer adjustments. And one observation I offered to the director was that some of the actors were falling into the very human trap of picking up on each other’s pacing while speaking. As a playwright I try hard to give each character their own rhythm, as a tool to create individual voices. But actors are extremely empathetic people, so I am always passing a note to the director to ask actors to “keep the pace up” or “take your time here”— depending on what the character and situation calls for. Because there is nothing more boring that a scene where everyone is speaking in the same rhythm, whether it is collectively fast or slow.

By contrast, when we want to establish rapport in real-life conversation, verbal mirroring is actually a very effective tool. It has been studied a lot over the years. I blogged about this ‘way back in October 2015. This mirroring is something we often do instinctively or subconsciously. And though it can offer a shortcut for establishing connection, it isn’t always a good thing: I have noted lately clients on group calls pick up on the most annoying vocal tics of whoever is “you know”-ing or “so”-ing the loudest. Be sure you’re aware of that; you really to need to fight against giving into the impulse!

The Communication Accommodation Theory I cited back in 2015 breaks this concept of adapting to our conversation partners into two strategies: convergence and divergence. Convergence is connecting through mirroring, using similar tone, pace, and vocabulary. I call it “speaking the same language.” It is an effective, quick way to engage people. And it leads to better understanding. Divergence is about the differences in word usage and rhythm, the disconnection that some may use to reinforce hierarchy, or establish perceived superiority. It is usually not a helpful tool as it often leads to conflict. But very useful for playwrights!

I still stand by my previous advice to avoid overuse of mirroring. You need to find your own voice and use it. But if you differ too much in your speaking you risk not being understood. So don’t go overboard. Unless you’re intentionally taking a conversational path to drama!

Photo: Top, left to right: Stephen Strosnider, Irenka Jakubiak, Joanna Parson
Bottom, left to right: Erica Logsdon, Jackie Maruschak reading “Saltwater Farm” on Zoom

The art of measurement

I have been seeing ads for AI tools that are marketed as "public speaking coaches." Intrigued, I click to see what these programs do. Do they offer advice for more fluidity, better vocal variety, use of tone and pitch? Colorful vocabulary? Better visuals in your slide deck? No. They count: the number of "ums" and other filler words; your speaking speed; your volume level. "Giving you data so you can ace your next pitch." 

Collecting data this way may be helpful, but as a Communications Artist I know that terrific public speaking and great professional communication is more art than science. Not to say science has nothing to do with it! Any current or former client of mine will tell you we talk a lot about anatomy and the physics of sound.

Since I always meet my clients where they are, I give rubrics to clients who feel the need to score their progress. And I also have assessment tools to share with clients' colleagues to record their improving communication.

But by far the most important yardstick you have, I tell my clients, is your own evaluation. My most frequent question to them after any exercise, meeting, or speech event is "how did you feel?" Because, let's face it, you can hit a presentation or pitch out of the ballpark, but if your meeting partners don't have the budget for it, or the timeline doesn't work, or….or…. You can't measure speaking "success" by whether you get exactly what you want at that particular moment. There are so many factors beyond your control. You have to focus on what you can do, which is present a clear message with confidence. With authentic presence.

This of course requires self-knowledge and trust in yourself. And in the process. My process is to share with clients tools that will help each of them. In all the years I have been doing this work, I have found many common problems and "pain points" when it comes to public speaking. And so I have developed trainings to address these. But I also know that our brains do not all work the same way, that we do not all bring the same lived experience into the room, and that we all have different goals and aspirations. So I offer best practices and exercises (based on speaking as a physical activity) that I learned in my actor training — and that apply to everyone.

But to really embrace an authentic presence and wear it comfortably, my clients need to do a fair amount of internal work. I have had a few who drop off at the point when they realize they can't "chart their way" to progress. I don't bring external measurement tools, so I can't give them a score. The toolkit I share is one I give to them — to use as much or as little as they wish. So that they can grow into their own success.

Tell the story

I have been hearing a lot of bullet points in speeches lately. Not as quick lists thrown in to support a main point. These bullets are used in lieu of main points. And they are often very long sentences, sometimes paragraphs. Then those are not really bullet points, you say. Exactly. But far too many speakers deliver them like they are. 

I don't know if this is pandemic-related, or due to an ever-shrinking attention span, or because offices and organizations are trying "new and improved" communications models that emphasize clarity, brevity, making your point. All of which are worthy goals. But this rattling off everything like bullet points has got to stop! 

Speech communication is different from written communication. If you are in a room, or on a video platform talking to people, and you turn a speech into a listicle, I can assure you any points you score for brevity will be offset by audience disengagement.

Whenever you are given the opportunity to speak, you need to ask why you are doing that, as opposed to sending in a report. A report is faster to read that a speech is to listen to. It does not require audience attendance. It is a much more efficient way of delivering information, when you think about it. But the value of having you speak is that you are not just imparting facts and figures! You are the expert who has digested the information, sorted what is important and urgent, and gathered it all into a package that we can understand.

And what does that really mean? You are telling us a story. You have an introduction, main points, and a conclusion. Beginning-middle-end. Classic narrative arc. You can be brief and clear in this framework, But you need to take your bullet points and incorporate them into the story you are telling. This means slowing down and adding more variety in your rhythm.  End your sentences definitively, with a downward inflection, instead of the upending that signals you *may* be done with this item on your list and are moving onto the next.

Bullet points may convey information, but they lack stickiness. Stories are used in all cultures as tools for connecting. Which model would serve your communication better?