In a previous post, I described in painful detail why, exactly, I was scared of giving my presentation at the Evernote Trunk Conference a couple of weeks ago. This post will resemble what project management professionals would refer to as a “post-mortem”; that is, a look back at how things went and how founded or unfounded my fears turned out to be.
Let me begin by saying that I did practice my talk several times before giving it. Both in front of various people (friends, coworkers) and alone in my hotel room during the evenings leading up to the event. This was easily the most common piece of advice I was given when I asked my seasoned speaker friends. I eschewed a fully scripted presentation in favor of a somewhat lengthy list of small prompts that I would review while speaking in order to keep myself on track, but giving me enough room to “be myself” while speaking.
I won’t lie — as I was practicing, I felt pretty damn good about how this was going to go. I spoke slowly (which, as I said, is a bit of a challenge for me) and, near as I could tell, I sounded confident and communicated my ideas clearly. Things went a little differently when I stepped onto the stage.
[Sidebar] Lots of very nice people complimented me on my presentation afterward and, of course, I’m going to be my own worst critic here. As the amount of time since the event has grown longer, my memory of my performance has become less pleasant. Anyway, the point is that I fully understand that what I’m writing and what you’re about to read will seem a rather harsh criticism.
For the ten or so minutes before it was time for me to speak, I stood nervously at a nearby table reviewing my notes distractedly, watching the throngs of people milling around and such. The bar was unfortunately set to open at the same time as my presentation was going to begin, so I wouldn’t be able to procure a glass of “liquid courage” like I’d hoped (and, yes, I asked the kid behind the bar to make an exception, which he didn’t). The few minutes before I went onstage was agonizing; I felt good about what I was going to do, but I wanted to get it over with and have a freaking burrito because, frankly, I like burritos more than I like speaking in public.
My name was called and I walked up to the podium carrying my iPad (which displayed an Evernote note containing the prompts I mentioned before). I shit you not — the second I looked up and stared into the bright lights and saw the room full of people looking at me, I froze. It felt like a full minute of me just standing there, unable to find my voice. All of my confidence had slid out through my ears during first nanosecond I was up there.
I stuttered, trying desperately to find a way to just start talking.
After a few seconds, a very nice man named Michael Hyatt (who was to present immediately after me) called out from the audience,
“You’re among friends, Brett.”
I don’t think he fully realizes how much that helped.
So, I started talking. I had previously planned on telling some kind of self-deprecating joke that would both lighten my mood and subtly inform the audience that this wasn’t exactly my forte. I summarily skipped over that and started talking.
I won’t belabor each and every little tiny disaster that I remember, but suffice it to say that there was lots of me forgetting to advance my slides, issuing nervous apologies and more than a little disjointedness to the whole thing.
Truth is, it wasn’t nearly the disaster I’m making it out to be. Hell, from what I understand, the talk was videotaped and will appear on the Internet at some point, so you can judge for yourself when that happens.
My biggest takeaway’s from the whole experience:
- I was absolutely right to be afraid; many of the specific things I was afraid would happen, did.
- I did it. It wasn’t sexy and it took me a good long time to relax when it was over, but I did it.
As I said in that earlier post, I’m not so naïve as to think that I could prance on up to the microphone and completely nail it on the first try. But, I really do want to get better at this stuff, so I’m going to keep accepting invitations to do it (infrequent as they may be).
Thanks for reading. And to everybody who said such kind and encouraging things to me when it was over, you’re the reason I’m going to do it again.
Photo by jessi.bryan
The most important part is that you did it, and that it gets easier the more you do it. Can’t wait to see the video!
Congrats on having the courage to tackle your fear head on, and coming out on top. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s overcoming it to do what you have to (or want to).
Two things to think about:
1) Your audience generally doesn’t have a copy of your speech. So if you flub your opening or skip a section, most of the time you’re the only one who knows. And while you can beat yourself over little mistakes you made, the only really things that matter is did you hit the major points you wanted to, and did you keep the audience engaged. I’m sure you know your stuff and it sounded like a great audience, so I bet when you get a chance to see yourself on video the answer to both will be yes.
2) Remember everyone in the audience you talk to also struggles with some kind of challenge themselves. I guess this is why they suggest imagining your audience in their underwear, to humanize them and reduce some of the stress on yourself to be perfect.
I’m not particularly afraid of speaking in public, but I’m not a fan of heights. Ladders and trees I’m fine with, but I went to the Grand Canyon this year and was crazy uncomfortable anywhere near the unbarricaded drop-offs that are everywhere there. Meanwhile people all around blithely walked right out on precipices or climbed the occasional barrier walls to pose for photos (hard to believe that *only* a couple people actually fall every year!). I ended up tackling my own fear by going on a ranger-led hike down into the canyon with my son. I never forgot I was hiking along a narrow trail with a cliff wall on one side and a huge drop-off on the other (the trail drops 1,100 ft in the first mile), but we actually had a great time and I’m so glad I pushed a bit out of my comfort zone to have that special experience with my son.
Keep on pushing, it’s worth the effort :)
I was one of the Developer Competition finalists at the conference, and you can rest assured that you were not the only one nervous about speaking in front of hundreds of people.
I started with the “self-deprecating joke” that you said you skipped. The audience may have been more forgiving after that, but it didn’t help my nerves at all.
At one point I actually had a bit of an out-of-body experience on stage, where my mouth was saying words and I have no idea what they were. I was terrified of accidentally swearing or something, so I watched people’s faces to see if they were reacting (which is actually pretty funny to me now). I also stopped talking at one point for what seemed like an eternity. Nobody noticed as far as I can tell.
People aren’t going to look back on the conference and think about how somebody was nervous or misspoke. We all went there to learn and have a good time, and that’s what people will remember.
Unfortunately I missed your talk (I had to run back to the hotel), but I’m sure you did just fine. You’ve got the right attitude – don’t give up.
“many of the specific things I was afraid would happen, did.”
I’d be more interested to know those specifics.
In a previous life I was a semi-professional flutist. I did several recitals in college, which has made it immensely easier to perform/speak in college. The best advice I could give you going forward is “fake it til you make it.” And eventually it’ll be easy.
Or not.
I don’t perform anymore. LOL
I’m sure, as the attendees said, you did a great job.
I was a long-time member of Toastmasters, and I remember my first few speeches as complete disasters. (I’m a total introvert, so it was *painful* for me). After several weeks, though, the fear disappeared, and I was able to start focusing on improving my technique.
If you plan to do lots more public speaking, you might want to check out a local Toastmasters group. They force you to give impromptu speeches every week, which is terrifying for the first few speeches, but then becomes a walk in the park. I credit that alone with making me comfortable giving talks, even with only 5 minutes notice.
In a former stage of life (oh, like, for my first 15 years of talking), I was training to be an Opera singer. I never really got stage-fright (watch “Toddlers and Tiaras” sometime to get an idea how stage-kids react, especially as they get older), but I do remember one particular instance where I was performing in a cathedral, as part of a chorale, with a fever of over 101 degrees, and a rather nasty stomach bug. I got sick – on the altar!
Thankfully – I was in the back row, and I had a good 15 minutes break in the middle of the piece we were performing. But, thanks to the quick work of the people in my section, no one noticed (excepting, of course, the rather large “Savior” above) and we finished out the night to great applause.
I was never so mortified as that night. And I’ll never forget it as an example of what you can hide from your audience.
I’m glad you’re going to continue speaking. You’ve got lots to contribute and I look forward to see what lies ahead.
Michael Hyatt is such an awesome guy. I used to work with him at Thomas Nelson Publishers. I’m glad he gave you the encouragement you needed!