I gave a speech last night on the subject of my twins. It was part of a Toastmasters humorous speech competition, and I came second (of two speakers). I had put in some effort into getting the speech ready, so coming second was a bit of a slap in the face. Mind you, I don’t blame the guy who won, and neither do I blame the judges. It’s the realisation that I had a false view of my own abilities that grates a little bit. While the subject I chose was both interesting, relevant and quite funny, my delivery didn’t get too many laughs.
After the meeting I pretty much resolved not to enter a humorous speech competition again, only to find that my colleague with the winning speech can’t make the next round, and so I will have to give the same speech again at another, bigger, meeting. Oh the joys….
I have started to read Robert Harris’s “Imperium”. It concerns the life of Cicero, the great Roman orator who lived during the “interesting times” at the end of the Roman Republic. A memorable quote, allegedly from his teacher, was that only three things counted in public speaking: delivery, delivery and delivery. This is quite a challenging observation, because delivery is by far the toughest part of public speaking. It requires practice, control of nerves, attention to detail and control of hand and body movements.
I think I learned a lesson last night. I don’t want to let myself down in the next speech, so I probably need to practice some more and do what I can to make the funny bits funnier. Easier said than done, I think.
I have to present in public from time to time. I simply can’t stick to a fully prepared script.
That’s not to say that I don’t need rehearsal. The worst thing in the world is to stick up a Powerpoint slide and not be sure what you want to say about it.
The trick that works best is when I remember that my Powerpoint is not my talk. Stick it up. Let the audience look at it, if they want (or give them a copy later) while you say one or two things on the same subject. And don’t ramble on! A sentence per slide, then move on. I was mortified recently when I gave a lecture to some students and one of them asked for a slide up again so that he could copy it down!
Not the same as Toastmastering, I know. But any amusing anecdotes I tell are generally set pieces. Would it be better to just have the anecdotes, then string them together?
The speech is currently a collection of amusing anecdotes strung together. The thing I found though was that particular things that I thought were funny turned out not to get a laugh. Other things I said did ok. I think the problem was more to do with *how* I said it as opposed to what I wanted to say. I’m thinking of videoing myself and then sitting back with the result and going through a few home truths about my presentation style. Ain’t going to be nice, but at least it will probably tell me more about me than ever before.
I have the opposite problem. I studied dramatic arts in school (it wasn’t my major, but I still got a LOT of practice), and most times I get up in front of a group of people to make a presentation, while I will forget everything I’ve wanted to say unless I use cue cards, my presentation tends to involve quite a bit of gesticulation, and my delivery leans a bit toward the dramatic. One of my co-workers told me, after a brief “presentation” of accounting software (which the company has used for four or five years and shouldn’t need to be presented every year, but people aren’t always really quick on the uptake, I guess) that my presentation reminded her of a stand-up routine. And the occasional sarcasm (me, sarcastic? as if!) only made it more so. What strikes me as odd about this, is that I was in no way TRYING to be funny.
I’m totally in awe of anyone who can stand up and speak in front of a large group of people. I only once had to do something even remotely similar – it was giving a presentation of a report for an evening university class I was taking. I totally froze up and thought I was about to die. And this was just in front of about 30 people that I more or less knew from having been doing the course with them … but I turned into a total nervous wreck.
I have found that I have a fairly strong speaking voice, and I can usually stand up in front of people and have my say. It’s being humorous that gets me. I find it’s a lot easier to write humorously than to say something funny in front of a group of people. The feedback is instantaneous.
I gave a speech a couple of years ago in front of my local club concerning a few hugely embarrassing things that had happened to me. They loved it – it was a great feeling. Then I gave the exact same speech to another club, and all I got were gentle (and muted) titters. It’s like a kick in the goolies.
Man – and I have to give this same speech to a much larger audience in a few weeks time! Am I mad?
quite possibly … 😉
I get nervous speaking in front of groups of people, too, which is probably why I need the cue cards to remine me what to say. Perhaps the “comedy” is a sort of defense mechanism- encouraging people to laugh at me but not in a negative way? Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it, and maybe I really am a funny person. I don’t know- many people who know me well, including K, swear I have no sense of humor whatsoever.
It took me a long time to abandon notes. I haven’t used them in speeches for the past year, which for me was like looking over the chasm and jumping. The advantage is you are more comfortable with thinking on your feet – if something goes wrong it is possible to quickly improvise something. I prefer it that way too now.
I gave the same speech, with a few small modifications, at our Area Competition tonight, and I came third! The crowd of 50 people there loved it! Some of them even came up to me afterwards and told me they thought it was the best speech. I also enjoyed giving it. It’s a lot of fun when people are laughing at some of your stories – and I have tons from the last few months with the twins. So all’s well that ends well.
PS – I’m genuinely glad I didn’t win – the competition for the winners is on in two weeks, the same time as I am meant to be in London at a H2G2 meet-up.