Public Speaking: Nothing to say

Sometimes, the most important thing is to keep going. To get through the dip, as Seth Godin would say. I’ve recently struggled writing speeches for my Toastmasters Club. But what the heck, I thought at one point: The most important thing is to keep going. Accepting the dip was the first step to what in the end was a pretty good speech:

Fellow Toastmasters,

For about a year now, I’ve struggled to write good speeches. That was fine for one or two speeches where I could use other people’s material, or do a badly researched one on a topic that only marginally interested me. But then: Nothing.

It wasn’t that I had run out of ideas. I had about a million for this speech, but all faltered after a second look or the attempt to grasp them.

At first, I wanted to speak about Clowns, and how they perfect the art of failure, but found it too difficult to get hold of suitable material. I found it too embarrassing to think of me desperately trying to be funny in front of my audience. It felt like a million years ago that I had donned that red nose, played with my character. A speech about failure that ends in failure? Rather not.

The second attempt came this summer at the speech writing workshop of the Brussels Club. At the end of the evening, I had a beautiful outline for a speech about this year’s adventures with Swedish furniture. But how trivial it looked on second examination: Surely just about everyone must have had a bad day at IKEA? And just about everyone must have moved house and realized that not everything goes on plan? And just because the whole story had its fair share of absurdities didn’t mean that there was something for you to take away from it.

And so time went: I travelled to London, to Barcelona, to Vienna and back to London, changed jobs, and missed a couple of meetings in the process. Another speech came along: This time about rail travel in Europe. I’ve done a lot of it, and I love it, and I’d love to get you to do more of it as well. But the stories I could tell: Of the evening after my job interview the fire in the Eurotunnel, and I couldn’t get to work the next morning. Trying to take the nighttrain in Barcelona, and realizing 20 mins before departure that I’m at the wrong railway station. Or the endless hours in the ICE to Frankfurt, running into delay after delay, finally having to stay over for the night and missing the first half of my meeting in Vienna. Nice stories, but not the most encouraging ones. Rather of the kind that will make you go “Well, I’d rather fly” – and that’s really not my intention. So I put this speech away as well.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I want you to know that the blank page is part of the creative process. Not every first draft is meant to become your bestseller novel.

I’m also telling you this because I’ve decided to overcome my inability to write speeches. I’ve set myself a schedule for the next speeches. And I need your help to get there. When you are taking your white feedback slips at the end of this speech, not only write down feedback on this speech, but write a question that you would like me to answer next time you see me speak. And I’ll see where your challenges can take me.

I also want you to know that you’re not alone when you are struggling with your speeches. That’s completely normal, and part of the process. But only if you keep working on them, if you keep writing, keep speaking, you can achieve your goals.

Do you have a project you’re struggling with? Keep going!