Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Stage Fright

Sandra Parshall

Like any reasonable person, I’d rather step into the path of a train than get up in front of a crowd and give a speech. Countless surveys have shown that public speaking is the one experience people dread most. Death comes in a distant second. Makes sense. Death doesn’t require that you stick around and hear what people thought of your performance.

When I signed a book contract for the first time, I knew I had to do something to prepare for the public appearances that are part of book promotion. I have always been shy -- I’m okay in one-on-one encounters, but the thought of being the focus of a crowd’s attention makes me panic. I don’t have the voice for public speaking either. I sound strikingly like a 10-year-old with laryngitis, and my husband has been begging me for more than 30 years to SPEAK UP because he can’t hear me from three feet away. How could I get help with both the panic and the voice?

After asking a lot of people for advice, I decided to join A Very Famous Organization that helps people improve their public speaking skills and has zillions of small clubs scattered the length and breadth of creation, practically one on every corner. I joined a club in my neighborhood, and I was honest with the other members from the start. I wasn’t interested in working my way up to regional, national, or international speaking competitions. My only goal was to learn how to talk about my book without freezing up or fainting.

The first time I spoke, my topic was “My Life of Crime” (the speech is now posted on the Writing page of my web site) and the club members gave me the blue ribbon for Best Speaker of the evening. Hey, I thought, this is easy. Never mind that I can’t recall a single second of the time I was speaking. I must have done okay, or I wouldn’t have the ribbon to show for it. Unfortunately, it was all downhill from there.

In four months of meetings, I was only scheduled to speak three times, which was not exactly the intensive preparation I needed. The second time went well. The third time was a disaster, my worst fears realized. A member took me aside and told me, basically, that I was doing everything wrong. I had to move around, walk back and forth, gesture a lot, project and talk faster, make eye contact with people in the audience. I had to speak as if I were bubbling over with excitement. I was soundly criticized for revealing that I had endured a long period of rejection before I sold a book. Never, never, never talk about failure, I was told, because the audience will not respect you if they know you’ve failed in the past. When I tried to explain that audiences love to hear what writers went through to get published, she told me I was wrong.

Another member, assigned to critique my speech for the whole group, said I had to start talking about something besides my book -- that was my “comfort zone” and I must move beyond it and speak on unrelated topics.

My book, of course, was the very thing I felt least comfortable talking about, and I had joined the group to get over that unease. I needed practice. But I was breaking the club rules by sticking to one subject. I left, having gained only a little confidence. I was on my own, sink or swim.

Not long after I attended my last meeting, I went to hear a bestselling mystery writer speak. I won’t name her, because she’s both a political and professional heroine to me, and I don’t want to sound as if I’m ridiculing her. Instead of walking back and forth on the stage, she stayed put behind a lectern. She used a microphone, but even so, her voice fell below the audible level on a few words. She might have made eye contact with some members of the audience, but most of the time she seemed to be looking over our heads. She never gestured. Instead, she fussed constantly with the belt of her jacket, tying it, untying it, pulling the ends behind her back, pulling them to the front again. I became mesmerized by the movements of that belt, wondering what she would do with it next. She did everything wrong. And she gave a wonderful speech. I found this most reassuring.

Since then, I’ve spoken before a number of groups, and I’ve survived. I still feel cold and shivery and dry-mouthed beforehand and I’m faint with relief when it’s over. I rarely recall a word I said, which is a profound blessing. With a second book coming out, I’m embarking on another round of appearances. I’m doing my best to make people feel at the end of each event that attending was worthwhile.

If you’re ever in one of my audiences, and I stumble over my words or look like I’m heading for meltdown, remember that my choice was between you and the train, and I chose you. That ought to count for something.

8 comments:

Deb Baker said...

I'm exactly like you! Every talk is painful. Yesterday I accepted an invitation to talk before a writing group for AN HOUR. Gasp. Does it ever get any easier?

Sandra Parshall said...

That's what I'd like to know, Deb -- does it ever get any easier? I hope somebody will come along and tell us it does. Meanwhile, I'm considering hypnosis...

Elizabeth Zelvin said...

I confess...I love public speaking. I treasure a few memorable moments (from recent to decades back) when I said something funny and heard a whole big roomful of people burst out laughing. That's what I call a peak experience! Singing is another story. I have performed many times as an acoustic singer/songwriter, mostly successfully but braced every time for my voice to fall short of the high notes. And put a cat or a lit cigarette in the room with me to guarantee a singing disaster. For me, the scary part of promotion when my book comes out will be using the phone to introduce myself to booksellers and other who can help get my work out there.
I was a shy kid, and for many adult years I insisted I was still shy (no matter how hard the people who knew me laughed). Then one day I figured it out: I'm just a little phobic about the phone. So I use email instead whenever I can, but making a speech? To a crowd? Hey, show me to the stage!

Elizabeth Zelvin said...

Kadi, you've discovered a powerful secret known to therapists and other kinds of group workers. Sitting in a circle is like waving a magic wand that melts people's fear and distrust and helps them connect with each other. It also reduces competitiveness and encourages a cooperative approach to whatever is going on in the room, whether it's Tupperware or therapy. Suppose you have to talk to a book club and they have the chairs lined up in rows. Why not ask everybody to pull their chairs into a circle? Quite a different experience. The speaker becomes part of the group, the audience become participants.

Julia Buckley said...

I think it absolutely does get easier. A year ago I dreaded talking about my book, and I wondered what I would say for more than about two minutes. But the more I speak (and it's not like I've had millions of opportunities), the more I find things to talk about, and I realize the goal is not necessarily to have tons of content, but just to stay engaged with my audience, to respond to their questions, whatever. I find that the less I prepare the more off the cuff I can be.

But it still raises my heart rate and I still sweat. :)

Sandra Parshall said...

Liz, you're weird. That's all I can say. And I envy you like crazy!

Anonymous said...

Sandy, you gave me a good laugh (because I can identify). Thanks! : ) And I agree with Julia -- it really does get easier. Every once in a while I'm asked to speak on a specific topic (Like in march I'm talking to the AAUW about being a woman in publishing) but mostly people really do just want to hear about your writing, your books, and how you got published. (Just like you told that tunnel-visioned Very Famous Organization member) Readers come because they're interested in that stuff -- not in how perfectly you present a speech. I try to keep talks casual and more of a dialogue. The more questions they ask, the better!

Good luck with it all Sandy. And just remember that old trick of picturing them all in their underwear... (or not)

Sandra Parshall said...

"And just remember that old trick of picturing them all in their underwear... (or not)"

Judy, that would REALLY scare me!