Speechifying

I’ve spoken of this before, and here it is again.

For many, the idea of speaking in public is about as close an approximation to hell as you’re likely to get.

People find their voices quiver.

Their minds go blank.

They breakout in sweats.

And it takes everything they have to get from “Good morning” to “Thank you.”

Been there. And it started for me at age ten.

It was Sunday morning. I’m standing on a milk crate behind a pulpit.

I’m reading from the Bible to a crowded church.

It was a big, thick Bible written in Old English. You know, the kind with words this kid from Colorado had never seen (want to know how I pronounced “gentiles”? Well, it had more to do with the medical pronunciation of reproductive organs).

To be sure, it was a totally unnerving, lackluster performance.

When finished, I crawled out from behind the pulpit. My face was red with embarrassment, and I was totally relieved the ordeal was over.

“Not to worry,” Fr. Verde said after services. “You’ll do better next week.”

Excuse me?

Next week!

There was more of this ahead.

I thought about it all, and thought, like hell I’m going through this again.

But I had too much respect for the man to say otherwise.

Dad was, of course, was his compassionate self when I expressed my fears to him. “What happens when you get tossed from a horse?”

Well, every cowboy worth his salt knows that answer. You get up and grab your hat. You dust off your pants, pull the cactus thorns from your butt, and you climb back on.

So, I cowboy’d up and began studying public speaking. To be sure, there wasn’t much to be found at the grade school level. I began talking to my teachers on the subject, and many were willing to help.

One of the first things I was asked was, why did I have a problem?

Well, I was a last-minute replacement (the lector came down with the flu, and his backup wasn’t in church). Add to that, every one of my teachers knew I was a stutterer. So, I got three pieces of advice that proved invaluable.

1. Know your material. I already had the material prepared for me, but just reading it wasn’t enough. I had to read it beforehand and practice it a bit. For the next week, my teachers would hand me something. I’d read it out loud to myself. I did this several times, and then they’d toss me in front of the class to read it out loud. What I discovered was that just having been through the material several times and reading it out loud before going out there, helped dramatically. And if there was a word I didn’t know or understand, I learned to ask.
2. Take your time and pause occasionally. The idea was not to take the text as one long race, but several smaller walks. This has the effect of taking a massive task and breaking it into smaller easy to handle chunks. I also learned that during these pauses, you glance up and make eye contact with your audience. If you’re familiar enough with your material that you can do so while reading, it is even better. Years later, I had this idea reinforced when I began smoking a pipe. To say something while smoking, you had to take the pipe out of your mouth. By that time, you had your thoughts together and could come out with something that made sense. I think that’s why pipe smokers are always portrayed as wise. Someone who did something similar was Neil Armstrong. You’d ask him something and, about the time you thought he hadn’t heard you, he’d open his mouth and out would come this perfectly constructed statement or formula. So, taking your time is vitally important.
3. Ask for feedback. How did I do? Where could I improve? My teachers and priest were more than willing to provide it, and I’d take their ideas and build them in. I acquired a small cassette recorder, which I used to record myself and play it back. I knew I’d be my worst critic, but wanted to hear how I sounded. I learned to project emotion, and I also learned to drop my voice a bit. It gave my voice more authority and made it clearer and easier to listen to.

With these three weapons at my disposal, good old-fashioned fear went away. Surprisingly, even my stuttering subsided. It still surfaces now and again, especially when I’m teaching. I get very passionate, and the brain gets ahead of the mouth. I’ve a sign hanging over my desk that always admonishes me to slow down. If I don’t pay it any mind, my wife will be happy to remind me. I began to enjoy public speaking. After several months, you’d have thought I’d been doing it for years.

The next phase of this had to wait until college. There, I began doing several things, all related to speaking.

One, I began producing planetarium shows. These were mine from start to finish. It taught me to have passion in what you talk about and how to use humor. It also taught me how to tell a story. In stories, we can take complex ideas (like the formation of stars and such) and make them simple.

Albert Einstein wrote that “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it yourself.” I took the advice to heart. I learned to take an idea fraught with mathematical ideas and turn it into a story anyone could follow. It also taught me to use graphics so they would educate and entertain simultaneously.

I learned the graphics shouldn’t tell the story. That’s the function of the person doing the talking. It’s the speaker who weaves it all together to draw the audience into worlds they’d never seen before.

I took speech courses and learned not only the use of words and voice, but props as well. Our prof assigned us topics to research. I drew “Violence as part of the Human Race.”

I borrowed two skulls from the Anthropology Department, the owners of which had both died violent deaths ages ago. Using them, I illustrated that violence was nothing new.

An interesting aside that happened during my talk. While handling the skulls, some dried mud fell out of one of them.

A young lady sitting in the front row threw up.

She assumed it was dried brains!

I thought it was a very effective presentation!

And that of course led to acting and to the Toastmasters club.

Acting is an excellent medium to get over stage fright, and it’s all about the role. When you’re acting, for at least a little while, you become someone else. It’s probably the only occupation, except for being a spy, where you can do that and not be locked up as a lunatic. You learn about motion, expression, and most of all, focus. I couldn’t have cared less about the audience at that point. I wanted the person I was playing to be real. In order to do that, I had to tune the audience out completely. I didn’t care about the laughs or the cough, or someone murmuring something. Every ounce of my being had to go into the part.

I had real fun with acting. We did Once in a Lifetime. Another actor and I found ourselves on stage, live, having to improv. The girl who was supposed to come out onto the scene didn’t for at least two minutes.

Another play we did was The Ruling Class. I wasn’t part of the cast. I was running lights for this one. In the play’s opening, we have an English earl who gets his jollies by hanging himself. The actor in question would also play the earl’s heir. In the opening, the earl misses his ladder and hangs himself. A harness and a wire suspended the actor to keep that from actually happening.

Closing night. The actor is going through his thing and suddenly the scene changes from what had happened before. He wasn’t going back to the ladder like he should have, and his flailing about was a little too real. That’s when I saw the wire wasn’t tight. It had broken, and he’d actually hung himself.

I quickly got someone’s attention, killed the lights, and they went out and got him down. It was ten minutes before the actor could talk again.

Several friends were with Toastmasters, and while not exactly a member, I attended a meeting or ten. That short amount of exposure improved me even more as a speaker. I was good when I started attending; I was better when I left. Some folks who were members were my professors from college. Others were community members like ministers, teachers, politicians, lawyers and just plain community folk. Most were more than happy to offer critique or praise. What I learned was to take an idea and get people to see it my way.

That might come in handy if I ever do something stupid like run for Congress.

But something else was happening here. Something was being cultivated that I didn’t appreciate until years later. I was building relationships that would pay dividends years later. These were people who I would encounter in my careers as a police officer, sheriff, and an emergency manager.

These people knew me and had a hand in making who and what I’d become. That made them easier to deal with as equals.

The big thing I learned from Toastmasters was to use my voice. Your voice can make you a leader. It’s your voice that conveys dreams, ideas, and needs. And most importantly, to build relationships with people, what we call today, networking.

Most recently, I’ve begun making book promos and readings from my novel. Here’s an example of my promo for Event Horizon:

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