Storytelling

I have noticed a significant increase in the focus and importance placed on the act and art of storytelling as an indispensable part of public speaking and presenting over the last few years. Actually, this might not actually be true; it could just be that the algorithms applied to me by social media platforms have shaped my echo chamber to suggest this, but nonetheless not a day goes by without seeing an article about how using a particular story structure is almost guaranteed to elevate your presentational ability and enhance the impact you have on your audience. If it’s not an exhortation to do exactly what Steve Jobs did during his presentations, it’s an insider’s memo sharing insights on how to structure meetings just like Jeff Bezos apparently does. Zooming in to a more detailed level, sometimes I find tips and tricks that describe how confident speakers will take particularly prolonged pause to make their audience teeter on the edge of their seats or am offered proof that certain gestures create the kind of gravitas that we should all aspire to.

For the avoidance of doubt, I’m not remotely against any of these ideas and frequently champion many of them in my workshops. With a background in drama, I am no stranger to the spellbinding qualities of a good story and am convinced of the value they can bring to a presentation. But these offerings are all formulas to be followed that require variables to be identified, collated and personalised. The word storytelling itself suggests that a story must be told if it is not to remain a structure, just as any gesture without intention remains a hollow performative indication. History is littered with great speeches rendered good through adequate delivery because its performance lacked the inner motivation to give it depth. As Adlai Stevenson once noted, it’s hard to lead a cavalry charge if you think you look silly on a horse.

So how do you create better stories? Well, on the Internet you’ll find plenty of storytelling advice to help you craft your message in the best possible way, and you would be well advised to spend time looking through and taking inspiration from this. But when it comes to telling your story, remember that even though there are a multitude of sites offering many good suggestions for how to tell them, those suggestions won’t be personalised for you because they can’t be. No one else ever has or ever will present like you. No one else has your physicality, your timing, your curiosity, your sense of urgency, your passion, your sense of humour, your quirks, your foibles and your personality – and these are what will help lift your story from the drawing board and give it a life of its own.

So how do you get better at telling your stories? Well, what works for you might not work for me, and so having a step-by-step guide to follow might not be the most effective way. The only thing of which I am sure is that at some point you are going to have to put your pen down and stand up. You’re going to have to stop writing and start speaking. You’re going to have to take a risk and give your words away – let them cross from the space where you can still edit them into the space where your audience can decide for themselves what they mean.

Presenting is doing. It’s practical and not theoretical, so one of the best ways to improve is to film yourself giving a presentation or rehearsal and then review your performance with a critical eye – perhaps using one of the many websites offering presentation tips for guidance – so that you can choose which aspects of your performance work well and which things you want to change. If you combine this with feedback and suggestions from colleagues and friends, this will help you get the best out of the exercise.

If you don’t have a colleague or friend willing to help, get in touch with me – or someone like me – who has the expertise, experience and vocabulary to lead you to water and let you find the best way for you yourself.

Either way, you’ll have to stop caring about whether or not you look silly on a horse.