Extroverting for Introverts
By Allie Larkin | April 8, 2016 |
The writing life can be the strangest swing from hyper-solitary to hyper-social. I’ve touched on this before in a guest post on Writer Unboxed, but it seems like a shock to the system every time I come up for air from a draft.
I spent November through the end of February knee deep in my book. In March, when I took a break and dropped a little social activity into my life, it felt weird. Vocal tics ran wild. My voice went horse quickly. I struggled to turn my thoughts into conversation. Much like trying to run after months of being couch-bound, my brain needed practice thinking and talking about things happening outside of my imagination.
I was scheduled to speak on a panel at AWP16. While promoting my last book, I’d gotten completely comfortable with public speaking, but suddenly the old nerves were back. What if I couldn’t pull myself together? What if the draft I’d just finished had broken my brain? I decided to give myself a boost by adding some new tricks to my anxiety-busting tool kit.
Both Sandra Gulland and Caroline Angell happened to mention Amy Cuddy’s TED Talk on using power posing to gain confidence, and I found it incredibly helpful! Have you seen it? Amazing!
I also read an Atlantic article highlighting a study by Alison Wood Brooks from Harvard Business School about changing inner dialogue from “I’m so nervous,” to “I’m so excited!” (but not in the Saved By the Bell kind of way). Since the wiring of both situations are similar, we can fool ourselves into turning nerves into enthusiasm. It totally works!
And then I have a trick of my own invention. It’s a little weird, but so am I. If you’ve ever studied voice, or used to sing in high school chorus, hopefully you’ll remember the technique of diaphragmatic breathing. If not, here’s a guide. Singing with proper breath control provides the exact same goodness of the deep breathing involved in many meditation practices. Using a song that requires attention to breath (I like Lesson VII from the Vaccai Practical Method of Italian Singing, because I’m a nerd), I practice singing in a calm space. Then, when I’m out in the world and start feeling nervous, I power pose and break into song, spinning like I’m Maria in The Sound of Music and then…Just kidding! I run through the words of the song silently in my head, and my body remembers the calm feeling I had when I was actually singing it.
These tricks combined with solid talking points prep time worked swimmingly, and I had a blast at my AWP panel. Plus, the experience changed the way I think about nervousness. It’s not a fatal flaw. It’s merely something to manage. I carry food in my purse if I think I’ll need a snack, and now I keep a song in my head if I suspect I’ll be jittery.
I decided to ask some friends how they handle the shift from private to public when it’s time to get out and talk about their books again. Here’s what they had to say:
Kathryn Craft – “Before being a writer I was a dancer, where nerves could literally knock you on your butt. I would stand backstage and say to myself, “Share with this audience how very much you love what you do.” The mantra never let me down (okay there was that one time I fell back on my butt, but I rolled right back up, and I do believe it improved the choreography) and it works just as well for any public appearance. People came to rub elbows with your passion. Just share it!”
Andrea Lochen – “I prepare some hand-written notes, but not an entire speech, and I practice a few times beforehand. I make eye contact with the smiling, nodding audience members and ignore the dozing old man in the front row. I pause to breathe or take a sip or water. Also, it can really help to do a joint reading with a friend or acquaintance if you’re able. This takes some of the pressure off yourself to perform and you tend to feed off each others’ positive energy. Having a “conversation with two authors” where you’re both sitting in chairs, kind of facing both each other and the audience is one of my favorite author event formats!”
Renee Rosen – “One thing that has really helped me is creating a slideshow for each of my books. Because they’re historical fiction there’s always lots of interesting images to use and it’s a great crutch—keeps me on track with my talking points”
Cassandra Dunn – “When I can, I bring someone…my sister, a reliable friend, so I have someone to talk to if no one in the audience approaches me before/after, and so I have a friendly face to search out in the audience while I’m speaking. Aside from that, I just fake it. And so far no one’s called me out on being an imposter. It’s a very strange part of this life, going from introverted writer to extroverted sales rep.”
Lynn Cullen – “It gets easier every time, but this is coming from someone who walked out onto the stage at her first author appearance with the back of her long skirt tucked into her underwear. And I wasn’t wearing tights. It could only go up from there.”
Colleen Oakley – “It gets better— with each event I do, I start to feel more comfortable and less like someone is going to stand up in the crowd, point at me, and yell “IMPOSTER!”
Julie Buxbaum – “I meditate in the morning to relax, and then caffeinate before the event to get my personality back. when the adrenaline starts pumping I always remind myself that though I don’t find it comfortable, it’s not bad, and is actually necessary for me to perform my best. I need the nerves. It’s just part of the process.”
Brunonia Barry – “I start with a reading, but a VERY short one. It seems to ground me and calms my voice. Then I try to say something funny (though not about the reading, usually about my circuitous route to becoming a writer). And, like Julie, I also meditate, but I can’t have caffeine before I speak.”
Heather Webb – “I’m an extrovert, technically, but sort of a middle of the spectrum E instead of full-on. In other words, I still get nervous before just about every session I teach or every book talk, despite 15 years of being in front of people. What works best for me is to practice a few points aloud while alone so that the material feels familiar to me when I begin. It helps calm the nerves because I feel more prepared.”
Barbara Claypole White – “I tell myself that I’m the leading authority in the world on my books. That’s an empowering thought.”
Mary Sharratt – “Rehearse your reading in front of a mirror. I rehearse at least 4 times before my first reading on tour. I write a script. I can deviate from this script, but I always have the script to fall back on. I don’t read a huge chunk of the book, but 3 or 4 shorter sections, 5 minutes long tops, and talk in between to explain the historical context of my characters. I try to interject humor. I also appear in costume so the “me” that’s up in front of the audience isn’t the Mary that’s sitting at the computer typing this. I become a different persona when I’m up there.”
Kathleen McCleary – “I second the “costume” idea. I work in yoga pants and a cashmere sweater full of moth holes. When my first book was out on submission and I was meeting lots of editors in NY, my agent made me go to a personal shopper and get an entire outfit (including shoes and handbag) so I’d look good and could convince them I’d be a great image/marketing tool for my book. Ever since, I make sure I have something to wear that makes me feel great when I do a book event. It may not be the most expensive outfit ever, but if I feel like a million bucks in it, I feel more confident. There’s a lot of power in a pair of killer shoes, too.”
Ann Mah – “Along the lines of Kathleen McCleary’s great advice: For me true confidence comes from having my hair blown out and wearing lipstick.”
What do you do to calm the jitters?
[coffee]
Allie Larkin is the internationally bestselling author of the novel Stay (2010), and Why Can’t I Be You (2013). She has never ordered a dog off the internet or assumed a new identity to attend a high school reunion.
Allie lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, Jeremy, and their German Shepherd, Stella.
Allie this turned out great! Helpful suggestions here. But OMG Lynne Cullen I can’t stop laughing! If you lived to tell the tale I’m pretty sure we can all survive public speaking!
Thank you so much for your wisdom! I love what you said about sharing what you love!
This was helpful. I’m not “there” yet–but going to save this post to refer to when the speaking engagements start knocking at my door. Thanks!
So glad it’s helpful! I’ve seen so many people come across as completely confident only to later learn they were jittery. I think it’s important to share that we’re not all at ease, and that jitters don’t mean you can’t kick butt. :)
Marvelous! Speaking as probably the most extroverted non-celebrity folks will ever meet, I struggled to understand this reluctance about public speaking. I’m a ham actor, former teacher, and survived a family of five sisters; I learned that fighting for attention is fun! And thanks to introverts, it’s a ridiculously easy fight to win.
But now surrounded by adults, I always encourage them to believe the one great truth I’ve learned about an audience. They are rooting for you! If they’re in the audience they are DYING for you to do well, because that’s better for them (nobody enjoys being disappointed or bored). That buzz you’re feeling in your spine only turns to fear if you let it. You need to be assured that the optimum level of stress is not zero- seize that energy and use it, you can’t speak or present well without it. The audience is feeding you their attention, and that energy is vital to your success. They are completely on your side hoping you will use it for their edification and amusement.
After that, whatever works. Outfit, rehearsal, breathing, visualization, eye contact, anecdotes, absolutely. Just realize you’re not trying to duck or avoid this energy, but looking for a way to grab and exploit it.
It’s so interesting that people are wired so differently, isn’t it?
As long as I feel I have some amount of authority on a subject, I’m comfortable speaking on it, but I’m not great at making notes that correspond to an actual speech or talk. If I’m teaching a workshop or a class, my handout to students or my slides keep me on track, and the more I do the same class the more comfortable I am. I was a docent and animal handler at our zoo for six years, and if you can get out there in front of squirrely kids and their disengaged, smartphone-hypnotized parents, you can talk to almost anyone. Also, props help! I never had anyone’s undivided attention as much as when I had an enormous owl on my arm or a porcupine on the table in front of me.
Love it! Maybe we all need owls. :)
Hi Allie–
Like so many posts at Writer Unboxed, yours today offers solid information on a topic of real-world importance to writers. Unless a writer is born with gabby-class genes, the idea of being vulnerable before a crowd of strangers is the stuff of sleepless nights. I think all writers are closet thespians. We get to take all the parts, but without the risks involved in treading the boards. That is, until we have to.
But posts sometimes raise interesting questions beyond the ones taken up directly. Here’s what I couldn’t help noticing in yours:
Sandra, Caroline, Amy, Alison, Kathryn, Andrea, Renee, Cassandra, Lynn, Colleen, Julie, Brunonia, Heather, Barbara, Mary, Kathleen, Ann.
Please understand, this is NOT a criticism. But as a man who writes, and who has known the special agonies of public speaking, I can’t help wondering why it is that all the sources for your post are women. I promise you, men are every bit as uptight in front of an audience. Maybe, though, there’s something about male writers that causes them to avoid talking or writing about their fear. But it would be interesting to learn why all those referenced in your piece (excepting your husband Jeremy) are women.
Again, you’ve written a fine post, and I thank you for it.
It’s just who answered in the forums where I asked. One is a group of women, but the other includes men. There wasn’t any specific exclusion, it’s just the way it shook out.
omgoodness! I need this post so desperately. I was just thinking the other day that I’ve completely lost all my social skills — and there weren’t many to begin with.
I haven’t even read the post thoroughly. I will find some quiet time to digest every word. Because I have a few social/author situations coming up that I am very nervous (I mean, excited) about.
Thank you, Allie!
I’m so glad it’s helpful, Carmel (and thanks for the coffee – so sweet of you)! What I’m starting to focus on is that being nervous is a sign you care about doing a good job, and that’s actually a very positive thing! Because you care, you’re so ready to completely rock it!
That’s a positive thought! Instead of feeling bad about yourself and your nerves.
I’m a solid introvert. However, I’ve never worried about public speaking and always look forward to a book launch or a reading.
I don’t need any tricks. Way back when I was in my twenties I was trained for public speaking at the RCAF Officer’s Training School. Stand straight, point the top of your head at the ceiling, shoulders drawn back and down, spine relaxed, weight on both feet. Don’t shout, just aim your voice at the back of the room.
That’s about it.
Never had a problem.
Here’s my problem. I live alone these days, and when I’m out in the grocery store or in the mall, I’ll talk to anybody about anything. You have to shut me up !!!
Lyn, it depends on where a person lives, here in Oklahoma everyone talks to everyone else. I am sure it is that way from this state to North Dakota it is the same, although I learned not to try that in LA, San Francisco, Philadelphia, New York City or Boston, there people in those cities love such a fast life style that talking to a stranger went out the window long ago. I do not have any trouble speaking to a group, I have found that I can disconnect from the feelings most people feel.
Ooh! That’s fantastic! It’s great that you know what to do and have confidence.
I am an introvert to the max. But I love an audience. I’ll give speeches, I’ll do booktalks (my major success when I was a librarian, I prepared by putting a stack of books on a table), and if this were thirty years ago, I would sing Italian art songs. No jitters. But I don’t do small talk. I’m incapable of making friends at conventions, and the idea of schmoozing in the bar isn’t just something I’m uncomfortable with–it’s a mystery. A handicap for a writer. (If I’d appeared with skirt tucked into underwear, I would probably have jitters.)
There’s totally something to be said for purpose. It changes everything a bit, doesn’t it?
I’m nowhere near reading from a finished piece in public, but these tips are AWESOME! I have bookmarked this page and plan on calling on it when the time comes. Each of the women who shared here just rock!
So glad it’s helpful! Those ladies do rock! I’m so thankful they shared their advice!
Thanks to my day job I have done a fair amount of public speaking. I don’t get the jitters. Maybe it’s look-at-me narcissism, or that I love to talk about my topic, but I enjoy being in front of an audience. No tricks needed.
But…dress up, dress the part, put on a persona that’s contrary to the college sweatshirt and jeans at the keyboard? I dress okay in public but do I dress not to conform but to create an image?
I have always admired guys with a signature look but haven’t had the nerve to wear Tom Wolfe’s white suit. Nor am I a Twitter fashion influencer. But dang, do I have to look forgettable? No!
So, what shall I wear the next time I have an opportunity to do a bookstore reading? A priest’s robes? Alligator hunter gear? Ziggy Stardust spacesuit? Oh, the possibilities!
Whatever I chose it means shopping. Thanks! Such a useful post, Allie.
I don’t think you can ever go wrong with a spacesuit.
Nervousness is a human experience. I agree with many actors before me, the day you stop feeling nervous before going on, well, it’s time to move on to another profession. That said, one of the most powerful bits of advice from actor’s training is the element of Listening.
It’s not enough to memorize your lines and hear what the other character is saying to you, so you can respond on cue. The real power of listening comes when you are listening to yourself and connecting with the importance of what you are saying. This happens naturally when we are in the throes of an argument, or imparting advice to someone we love. What we are sharing with the person we’re in conversation with is vital to them, and what you are saying is something you deeply believe—it comes from the roots of who you are. In these moments we embrace every word we utter 100% and nervousness never enters the picture.
Embrace the love you have for what you do as you share it by listening with your heart and it will register with others, and no one will suspect your nerves are ricocheting like pinballs.
Yes! I do think nerves are sign that you care, and that’s actually a wonderful thing.
Fascinating stuff, and I LOVE this: “I tell myself that I’m the leading authority in the world on my books. That’s an empowering thought.”
I’m an odd mix: an introvert who enjoys public speaking. I’m not shy onstage, but if you take that barrier away, I’m far less comfortable.
For example, I totally clam up in a store if a salesperson approaches me. And I think there would have to be a live ferret crawling around in my salad before I’d dare to send a meal back at a restaurant. But put me onstage, and I feel set free. No clue why that is.
Oh my gosh! I totally understand this! I think there’s something to be said (and remembered to quiet pre-performance nerves) about having a purpose. I will avoid phone calls all costs, two of my past jobs required a lot of phone time, and I was particularly good on the phone – and then I’d get home and not answer my own phone. :)
Great suggestions here. I like Kathryn’s reminder to stay mindful of your intent to share. Think about the process of speaking as a gift exchange; an assembled audience is a gift for the writer, and the author reciprocates by giving voice to their written words. I don’t know if there is any scientific proof to this, but I think nerves create static in the body that can be discharged by going barefoot; getting grounded before you speak. To clear the scratchiness from your voice, take a few bites of a green apple. A wonderful song to calm the jitters yet maintain enthusiasm is “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” from Oklahoma.
I’ve never heard the green apple trick! Interesting!
Great stuff — many thanks! I call myself an ambivert, someone who can get energy from the event if I approach it right. In the car on the way, I set my intentions, including being calm and kind, connecting, making sure everyone enjoys the event — whether 50 people attend or 5, and sharing my love of books and writing. This shifts the focus from ourselves, or from selling, which is part of what makes so many writers nervous.
Love this, Leslie!
Allie, my belly produces jarring kangaroo hops at the prospect of public speaking, but I occasionally do it. Not long ago, I had an upcoming essay reading at a bookstore which was torquing my guts, but I had the fortune of reading a Michael Hyatt post the day before that helped.
His message was simplicity itself: instead of saying (with furrowed brow, sweating hands and clenched parts) “I HAVE to do something,” say, “I GET to do something.” In other words, recognize the unique opportunity in such occasions, and court its favor rather than its foulness. My reading went well.
Here’s that post: https://michaelhyatt.com/how-a-shift-in-your-vocabulary-can-instantly-change-your-attitude.html
This is great, Tom! Thank you so much for sharing it!
All of these suggestions are good, but very individual. I was a teacher in my first life and standing in front of questioning teenagers can make your knees knock. I did that for five years–and loved it. Now I have little to fear. Last Friday I read from my WIP at a meeting associated with the Los Angeles AWP. There were 7 of us reading and it was lots of fun. Believing in your work is the most positive advice I can give. Thanks for your post.
Although I’m a proud introvert who feels dogs and most other animals are better companions than people, I no longer feel uncomfortable in public settings. I can still communicate with my fellow humanoids – depending on the situation. A close friend once expressed his concern that I was becoming a hermit, to which I replied, “So?” I’ve always been a longer, and writing has always been my avenue to sanity. It really used to upset me that I couldn’t make friends easily. Now I don’t care. If I ever do feel uncomfortable amongst others, I just think of my dog – a vicious, 22-pound miniature schnauzer who I believe is actually a rare miniature wolf – and I’m okay. Distracting myself from some situations is therapeutic and (in most cases) necessary.
I rarely get nervous before presentations these days, but when I do, I imagine my old gran giving me her disappointed look and saying: ‘Go ahead, cancel. Now you’re ancestors are ashamed of you . . . again.’
It always works :)