On Stage: Talking about Writing
By Sophie Masson | September 8, 2014 |
Some time ago, at a literary festival, I was in the authors’ green room talking to a new writer whose first public appearance as an author was that very day. She was clearly very nervous, though trying hard to look as blasé as the rest of us more experienced speakers must have looked to her. (This of course was far from the truth—most of us still get stage fright to one extent or the other). Finally, she burst out with, ‘I wish I lived a hundred years ago, when writers didn’t have to do this performance thing!’
It wasn’t quite accurate, of course—talking about writing has a long history, with Charles Dickens and Mark Twain just two writers from the past who were greatly in demand as speakers—but many of us writers can understand her feeling.
It’s true enough that these days that talking in public is expected of every writer, and not just the famous ones. (The seriously famous ones can simply refuse to do it, thereby adding to their fame, ironically). Writers can’t just write any more. We can’t sit in our garrets away from the world creating marvelous worlds which will satisfy our readers; we can’t just expect our work to make an impact on its own. We are expected to show ourselves off. To go on stage, and not just to talk about our books or read from them as Dickens and Twain used to do, but to make ourselves known as personalities, and even as that dreaded word ‘brand’. It seems that the reading public can’t get enough of seeing and hearing writers in the flesh, whether that be at festivals, conferences, libraries, schools, bookshops, book clubs, community organisations, or writers’ groups. And the pressure is strong, to be articulate, entertaining and informative in public, in speech, and not just the written word. We’re expected, in fact, to be performers, and not just writers. But talking is different to writing. You might be a fluent word person on the page but words might fail you miserably in speech.
Now some of us, who are naturally comfortable with the stage, enjoy performing all the time. Many of us enjoy it at least some of the time. And some of us hate it nearly all the time. But each of us has to learn sooner or later ways of dealing with that expectation we will perform. One way of course is to refuse all invitations to speak. But for most authors, that’s not really a very helpful option. And not only because it’s not helpful in terms of your career—it would also mean you miss out on the positive sides of being on the book-talk circuit, which not only includes connecting directly with your audience, but also getting to know fellow writers. I’m not the only writer to have formed lasting friendships with fellow authors I first met when we spoke at the same event. And in our big country, there are many author friends I only ever catch up with when we are speaking at the same event. Of course, connecting directly with your audience can be a great pleasure and a great success—but even if an event turns out to be a fizzer in terms of connecting with audience or books sold, there is usually the compensation of meeting fellow-toilers in the author talk field. And the gossip’s usually pretty interesting too. :)
I’ve been speaking in public about writing for a couple of decades now. Mostly, I enjoy it, though, always, I have a certain amount of stage fright before it. (Indeed, I think if I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a good performance.) Mostly, too, I establish a good connection with audiences. I did a lot of drama as a child and teenager and it’s likely that early training helped, as did the fact that in my big, loud family, the ability to speak up and express yourself was pretty much a necessity if you didn’t want to be steamrollered flat. But I don’t naturally love being centre stage–there are times when rather than speak in public I would much rather hide in a corner and read a book, and I curse myself for ever having accepted that invitation. But once you’re there, you’re there, and you have to make the most of it.
So how to make the most out of it? Here are some things I’ve learned over the years.
- Remember, like any actor will tell you, each audience is different. One size definitely does not fit all. It’s not just a matter of the type of event or the age of your audience or the social environment. There are some generalisations you can make, such as that primary school kids are generally easier to engage than high school kids, but talented high school kids can be very rewarding indeed to speak to; a regional festival audience will often be more appreciative than a more blasé big-city one which is more focused on the stars. But aside from those kinds of generalisations–and there are always exceptions to them–there is a strange alchemy happening which means you can never be sure until you’re actually on stage what mood an audience might be in: the most important thing is to never take it for granted, or plough regardless on some pre-determined path. Which brings me to the next point:
- Don’t prepare too much. These days, I never write out a speech, unless it’s going to be published later. I hardly ever write down more than memory jottings. In most circumstances, when I’m talking about my own books or the writing process, I have found it works much better if I ‘wing it’, and am more spontaneous than planned. If I’m asked to speak on a particular theme, such as on a panel with other writers, I will think about the topic beforehand but hardly ever write anything down except for memory jottings or a striking image. The thing is that on a panel, especially when you are not the first speaker, if you’ve planned too much what you’re going to say,you may find that the other speakers are saying pretty much the same thing as you—which is kind of boring for the audience! Better to stay on your toes and improvise. And if you have a tough audience–an experience I’ve had more than once–then if you are too focused on a plan, you will be thrown off track much more easily.
- Don’t improvise completely, though, even if you have a tough audience. These two points may seem contradictory—but in fact they are part of the same strategy. What you should try and have in your author-talk toolbox is a series of possibilities which you can pull out depending on your instinct about the audience.For example, I was asked to speak about my books to a very rowdy group of kids at a tough school, and it became clear in the first few minutes that listening to a writer talking about her books was very far down their list of priorities. So I quickly switched tack and began telling them a story about a long sea voyage I was once on as a child, and the adventures we had. Well, they liked that well enough; but they liked it even more when I told them I came originally from France. All they wanted after that was to get me to tell them their names, and the names of things, in French. Peals of laughter ensued as they repeated them, and the whole hour passed happily if noisily that way. At the end of it, one of the teachers came to see me. I thought at first she might be going to rebuke me for cowardice; but what she said was, ‘Thank you. I’ve never seen the kids so engaged, and for a whole hour, too!’It’s not always how it might seem, though—another group of kids in an equally tough school hung on to every word of my talk, and later, sent me gorgeous illustrated stories they’d written, inspired by it. Whilst a very wealthy private school was another really tough gig, where I got blank, mocking looks and a ‘who are you’ atmosphere and little response to anything I said. In the end, it was just a matter of getting through it and not losing my nerve. And wouldn’t you know it, at the end of the talk, a few kids stayed behind to talk to me—they’d loved the talk, but of course couldn’t show it in front of their peers.Speaking in front of young audiences by the way is very good training—they respond more viscerally.
Adult audiences, especially the generally polite ones at festivals, seem like a piece of cake then!
- Don’t be frightened of stage fright! As I mentioned earlier, for me, that certain nervousness before I go on helps to hone my performance, just as it hones my observational instincts in gauging the audience mood. A little uncertainty is no bad thing; though obviously being too nervous is not helpful!
- When speaking on a panel with other authors, don’t go over your allotted time. It’s very annoying for the other speakers, and doesn’t give a good impression to the audience either. (Hopefully a good chair will stop this problem happening anyway!) And as I mentioned, be prepared to adapt what you planned to say in light of other people’s contributions, and respond perhaps directly to a point they’ve made—this makes for a much more interesting and organic feel which will engage the audience much more than speakers just trotting out pre-prepared speeches.
- Don’t expect too much from your talk. And yet don’t be too dismissive of the possibilities. They are not always measured in book sales or even immediate audience engagement. Who knows what effect it will have? Maybe none. Maybe no-one will remember it. We have so much information and entertainment coming at us all the time, that it can be hard to keep anything in mind for very long. On the other hand, you never know—something in what you say might inspire a budding writer, or lastingly touch a reader’s heart. That’s happened more than once over those two decades, for me. And that is what makes it all worthwhile.
Over to you—as writers, what is your experience of talking in public? And as readers and listeners, what do you think makes for the best kind of book talk?
Born in Indonesia of French parents, and brought up in France and Australia, Sophie Masson is the award-winning author of over 70 books for children, young adults and adults. Her latest books include Sydney under Attack (children’s historical novel, Scholastic Australia, 2022) A Hundred Words for Butterfly (adult novella, ES-Press, 2022) and Cock-a-doodle-doo (children’s picture book, (illustrated by Kathy Creamer, little Pink Dog Books, 2022). In 2019, Sophie received an AM (Member, General Division) award in the Order of Australia honours list.
Dear Sophie:
Your post was engaging and helpful to this writer who is looking forward to presenting her story to an audience of eager readers.
It’s comforting to know that seasoned writers like yourself still get flutters in their gut before appearing in person.
I guess that a belief in your story and a desire to share it transforms nervous flutters into happy butterflies. Thanks again, Ellen
Sophie, your suggestions are terrific. Thank you! I find reading my fiction aloud at book events create the most anxiety for me. I want my readings to be entertaining and inviting. One thing has helped me is to listen to audios of short stories or novels (lots of classic short stories on YouTube). Reading the text and and reading it aloud with the audio version, imitating the speaker’s vocal expressions, inflections, pauses, etc., for the prose and dialogue is really helpful. It’s like having a personal coach. Takes practice though.
That’s a great idea, Paula!
Sophie, thank you for your stories. Despite a stutter, I enjoy public speaking because I like connecting with children, teachers and other writers. And there’s instant feedback! It really does satisfy that primal desire to tell a story around the fire. I’ve also discovered that it’s okay to be vulnerable on stage.
I’ve found that age has helped me most of all. When I was young, I was absolutely terrified of speaking in public – and sometimes of speaking at all! But as I got older, I grew more confident and comfortable with talking in front of a group, and the more comfortable you are, the easier it is to do. Still not easy, but easier. For me the big thing is not to dwell on the mistakes, because you always say something that came out wrong, or you forget to include a point you wanted to make. You have to look at the big picture of how it went overall, and not get caught up in excoriating yourself for some imperfection in your speech.
Excellent post, Sophie – I plan to share with my local writing group. As a cross-genre writer, I have spoken to many kinds of audiences, and I would add one more thing…. Unless your book is highly political or polarizing in some other way, most (perhaps all) of the people who come to hear you will be friendly and interested. They want you to succeed – why else would they give you two or three hours of their time? And if something goes wrong – the projector doesn’t work, or the cookie plate gets knocked over – they’ll be rooting for you. Remembering that people are there because they want to hear what you have to say, and they want to have a good time, helps a lot, I think.
You are so right, Sheila–most audiences do want you to succeed.
Hi Sophie. Your post is full of really good suggestions. I would simply add that doing my personal best in a presentation is generally my goal, and that guarantees there will be at least ONE person getting something out of it. That way, I go into it knowing I’m already successful. And, although I long for the day when I don’t need to prepare much, that day is not yet here. Advance preparation is still a kingpin for me personally. Speaking to young adults is a joy when you think about how one thing you say can stick with them and possibly make a difference someday, isn’t it?
Absolutely, Mia! They can be challenging but very rewarding too. I’ve had the experience more than once of young people coming up to me years after I’ve done a talk at their school and saying they’d never forgotten it and that they felt it had inspired them. That’s the best reward you can have!
I was at a conference once (lawyer stuff), and one of the panelists was a judge who went way over his allotted time. The moderator was too timid to control him. Perhaps she thought you shouldn’t cut off a judge, even politely, because one day you’ll be in his courtroom and he’ll remember.
Anyway, the judge used up all of the last speaker’s time. Five minutes before the end of the session, the last speaker stood up and stormed out of the room in a hissy fit. Everybody looked bad — judge, moderator and last speaker (or should I say, last non-speaker).
That’s about all anyone remembers from that session.
Ouch–the horror scenario! Great gossip fodder, but so unpleasant..
Excellent points, Sophie. Thanks. I’ve taught all ages and performed quite a bit so should be totally at ease but still get nervous about presentations. I absolutely love reading my work but as for other presentations…I wish I could just jot down essentials and then wing it as you describe, but I still feel the need to prepare extensive notes. Of course with detailed notes, once you start winging it (and I always do), it’s hard to catch sight of the points or lovely images you absolutely want to include with a fleeting glance.
I agree with Lori above – it’s important (but hard) not to dwell on mistakes.
Even though it does take me right out of my comfort zone, I enjoy sitting on panels and doing book readings. And to my surprise, I even winged some of my last presentation.
The most entertaining book readings are those that combine the reading with another form of entertainment–an interview with the author or performances by local musicians.
May I add one more point, Sophie? I’ve been speaking before audiences for nearly 40 years, first as a college teacher, then as a consultant and now as a writer. I find an ice breaker works well for me. If the room is too hot or too cold, I mention it. After that, no one says anything about the temp. I write mysteries so I can wear something that instantly identifies me as the speaker. I stole the idea from the Castle TV show. I have a real police vest with WRITER on the back. If the audience is mostly women, which BTW is the Castle demographic, everyone can relate to the vest. For a really good, totally engaged audience, I let women put on the vest and take a selfie with me. They love it. Does it sell books? Maybe, but I’m more interested in entertaining the audience and giving them something to remember.
Ooh, I love that, Betsy! Always loved that in Castle–and isn’t that the best and funniest show generally too, for a writer!-so what a great idea to pinch it for your own presentations! I can imagine you’d win over the audience right away.
Good stuff — thanks. One thing that helps me is to always remember that even though I’m the one on stage, with the mic, and hoping to sell books, it’s really not about me. The point is to create a connection with the audience, whether it’s 5 or 150, and make sure they have a positive experience. Keeping that in mind gives me a focus and eliminates (most) nerves.
Because my book launch is coming up soon and I’ll be doing a book reading at our public library, I appreciate your tips, Sophie. Even though I’ve done a fair share of public speaking and am a professional actor, I know I’ll be nervous. It comes with the territory, and as you say, it helps energize the presentation. I like what you had to say about not pinning your material down beforehand. It could come out too rehearsed and too remote for the audience. It can create a distance, and in this age especially, readers want to connect with the writer. So, given your tips, I’ll have some anecdotal stuff on hand, as well as some prepared material and then I’ll wing it. Looking forward to the experience.
Good topic. I have done public speaking in various capacities since I was a teenager. Public speaking regardless of your profession has a lot more impact than many writers may realize. While you may get seemingly little or no reaction from an audience sometimes, like your rich-kid-school example Sophie, things do stick.
Not too long ago I had Facebook-Friended a bunch of people I’d gone to high school with 30 years ago. One guy, whose name I remembered but would never have recognized in person, when he found out I was a writer sent an IM asking if I remembered reading sections from Of Mice and Men during our sophomore year. I struggled to recall, then it came back.
The teacher had asked me to read a few paragraphs aloud one day, and then every day for a week or two I was asked to read the selection for that class. I thought she was picking on me, but I read it because it was really fun acting out the scenes for the class (I’ve never been one to just ‘read’ aloud). 30 years later the disinterested, black leather jacket, spiked wrist band head banger who’d sat next to me in that class sent a note to say how something I had entirely forgotten within a few weeks had stuck with him all this time, and had gotten him to pick up books and read. He’s a welder now, making more money than I do in my comfy government IT day job, and loves to read and listen to audiobooks.
Throw yourself out there and have fun with it, because you never know what’ll stick.
Sophie, I really enjoyed your article – so much great advice!
I remember when I started out speaking after my first novel was published – I was so concerned about being tongue-tied that I wrote every word of my talk down, with multiple red notes, so I didn’t get lost. Comes with the territory of once being an early-childhood teacher! Be one step ahead.
Seven years later, I only need an outline to make sure I can stick to the time, and I know my subject so well that I don’t need to read ‘a script’ any longer. I always remember, even if you think you don’t know much, you know more about your book, or your life as a writer than anyone in the room. Hey presto! And if you’re genuinely enthusiastic about what you’re doing, it shines through.
I still have butterflies beforehand, but once I’ve caught the attention of children (or adults), the butterflies go.
Sometimes I also use stage props as icebreakers – like doing some juggling badly (i.e. one of my chapter books), or best of all – a piece of coprolite, fossilized turtle poo from 85 million years ago (when talking about my kids’ novel set on an Aussie fossil dig.) Works every time! :)