As a writer, one is often called upon to make speeches or talk at various types of public events. Let me tell you, I think I’m safe in saying most writers don’t particularly enjoy making speeches–that’s why they became writers.
Like me, for instance. I don’t mind sitting at my computer and writing for hours at a time. But put me in front of an audience and–ulp!–sometimes words fail me.
So, one of the things I’ve had to get used to is public speaking. (Did you know that most people find public speaking more frightening than death? And this is the majority of people, not just writers.) Over time, I’ve grown a bit more comfortable with the spotlight. However, I’m still far from perfect.
For what it’s worth, I thought I’d pass along a few tips (learned the hard way, of course) on how to speak in public like a pro (or, at least, how not to disgrace yourself completely).
1. Prepare written notes. If you’re a writer, this part should be easy. Write down the major points. Just a few lines can do it. Something to both solidify your thoughts in advance and prompt you when you’re actually speaking.
2. Practice. Practice what you’re going say aloud. Don’t simply read from notes during your presentation. People who read from notes tend to drone and fail to make eye contact with the audience. Practicing not only avoids this problem, but makes your delivery seem more spontaneous and natural (as it should be).
3. Beware the ill-advised ad lib. When you’re talking in front of people, it’s very easy to suddenly blurt out words to express something you hadn’t completely thought out ahead of time. I’ll give you the most ridiculous example I can think of at the moment–me.
On Saturday, I was on a panel of authors. When it was my turn to speak, I had to answer a question about how much my legal background had inspired my main character. I said something to the effect that a real lawyer’s life was completely different from a fictional lawyer’s. (A mystery that depicted most real lawyers’ lives would put people to sleep!)
At one point, I said, “My character’s life is about as different from mine as–” Full stop. Oops! Forgot to come up with an analogy of some sort. Gee, that would’ve really helped. (I hemmed and hawed my way through with some half-baked nonsense . . . something about filthy dumpsters and Hilton hotels . . . please, don’t ask . . .)
One could do much worse in the ill-advised ad lib department, I suppose. I’m only telling you this to demonstrate how much planning can help in this situation.
4. Remember to mention your book and character. No matter what question you’re asked, an author must keep in mind that these appearances are about selling your work.
I’m not saying you should spout advertising for your book. That’s just annoying. Nobody wants to be hammered with an author’s promotional announcements.
What I am saying is to think about how to highlight your work in some way when framing an answer to the question. Ask yourself, what can I say that will both enlighten the audience about my work and answer the question?
5. Entertain. Let’s face it. Most people don’t want to hear about the boring, awful parts of this business (unless you can turn them into humorous anecdotes–that works!). They don’t want to hear your sob stories, your petty jealousies, your rants or bitterness. By and large, people will like you (and tend to consider buying your work) if you entertain them. Why would they buy a book from someone who can’t do that?
Good fiction starts with good stories. Show people you know how to entertain with your spoken words, as well as your written ones.
Oh, yeah. Final thought. If I’d been more prepared on Saturday, I might have squeezed in this somewhat humorous anecdote. Before the panel appearance, I’d been selling books at a Kiwanis Club Pancake Breakfast. At the breakfast, I met a woman who works for Random House. (Audience: “Oooooh!!”) She works at the distribution center in Carroll County. (Audience: “Aaaaw!!!!” :: chuckles :: — at least, that’s how it plays out in my imagination.)
I gave her a copy of my book, of course.
(And, if you’re reading this, Alison, thanks for stopping at my table and introducing yourself!)