I recently came across Lillipip, a company that creates animated videos about your product, service, or concept.  Check them out. 

They have a simple storyboarding template of four blank squares.  In the first, you draw or paste a picture of your client in pain, along with the exclamation that’s coming out of your customer’s mouth.  Nice and simple.

Then, you draw or paste a picture of the visual metaphor for your product, service, or concept.  For example, a health club might visualize itself as being able to turn a couch potato into an Adonis.

In the third panel, you draw or paste a picture of your client– happy after you’ve removed the pain.  Again, you also draw the exclamation that comes out of the client’s mouth.

Finally, in the fourth panel, you draw or paste a picture of you, your logo, or your product, and write one thing you want the client to do or remember.

This is good stuff for presenters too.  It helps us think visually.  It keeps our presentations focused on our listeners’ problems, and forces us to present solutions.   It makes us think about emotions in addition to information.  It encourages us to use metaphor, which is the ability to link what is new to something familiar. And finally, it demands that we have a call to action at the end of our presentation.

Plus, it helps those of us who are word people speak the language of picture people, which gives us stereophonic input into the brains of both tribes.

Sims Wyeth is an executive speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

It begins with an agonizing silence–The Duke of York standing at a microphone in Wembley Stadium trying to bring the world’s greatest exposition to a dignified conclusion for the entire British Empire listening on the radio.  His stammering and stage fright make him unable to speak.

In the historical moment, when the new medium of radio is the new global technology for the dissemination of the English language, this is a crisis both personal and institutional. 

The institution of the monarchy is shaken by the death of George V, the Duke’s father, and the abdication of Edward VII, the Duke’s brother, leaving the stammering Duke (and future king) to be regent of  the Empire as Hitler sets war in motion. 

The country needs a king it can stand behind in its darkest hour.   The Duke and his wife search for a speech teacher, and after engaging a few quacks, find a keeper in Geoffrey Rush playing Lionel Logue, the Australian son of a brewer smitten by Shakespeare yet lacking in the peculiar talents required for the thespian art.

Nevertheless, Lionel is a fine teacher, and pulls the King out of his tailspin to stir the nation with his radio addresses to the Empire.

If you’ve ever had stage fright; if you’ve ever stuttered; if you like anything English; if you like eavesdropping on Royals; if you are fascinated by history; if you love Shakespeare and “sad tales of the death of kings”; and if you want to see two or three extraordinary performances in one movie, go see this film.

I particularly liked it because it casts a speech teacher in a heroic light.   There is in the film acknowledgement that through his speech, the King confers an identity on his people, that through his personal courage in overcoming his affliction, he communicates courage to the nation.

As the new King is left alone and ill-equipped to lead by the death of his father and the abdication of his brother, so is England left alone in Europe to confront the German war machine.  The king rises to his challenge, and in so doing, embodies the story of his people.

Sims Wyeth is an executive speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.

Suppose you went to a workshop and the leader threw a balled-up sock on the floor about eight feet in front of you.

“Visualize the path to the sock, then close your eyes, walk to the sock and put your hand on it,” you are told.

Your fellow work-shoppers watch in silence as you move toward the sock, and miss it completely.  You hear them laughing and open your eyes.  It’s there by your left foot.  And then it’s their turn, while you watch them.

At the end, only two people out of ten succeed in doing it. 

The instructor asks, “Who really wanted to touch the sock?”  Six hands go up.  “Pathetic,” says the instructor.

“When you’re too goal-oriented, focused on succeeding, you’re preoccupied with being perfect. Perfect is boring,” says the instructor.

He goes on.  “There’s no story in perfect.  ‘She walked across the floor and touched the sock.  The end.’”

“But if you walk right past it and bump into the wall, then turn back and search the carpet with your feet, give up and get down on your hands and knees to sweep your arms in front of you, or roll across the floor to maximize your sensory exposure to the bump of the sock against your skin, that would be a story we’d all be telling when we get home tonight.”

Actors do this for each other.  They change their reading of their lines depending on how their scene partners deliver theirs. 

Cabaret singers look for accidents so they can humanize themselves, and break through the imaginary wall that exists between performer and audience.  For instance, a man spills a drink during one of her songs, and she pulls her handkerchief out of her bra and mops up the martini with it. 

Performers are always looking for happy accidents like that.  Your listeners will remember how you responded to the accident better than they’ll remember all your well-rehearsed and well-chosen words.

I just saw a client giving a live demonstration of web-based software to about 100 people when she lost her internet connection.  She called up the technical people to the stage and kept right on going, even while we could see all the screens the techies were trying to fix the problem.

She got credit, not just for the content, but for the qualities of character she displayed in coping with the technical failure.

The lesson?  Don’t be so afraid of problems or accidents on the presentation platform.  Problems can bring out the best in you.

As Al Gore said, “…defeat might serve as well as victory to shape the soul and let the glory out.”

Sims Wyeth is an executive speech coach in Montclair, NJ specializing in presentation skills and public speaking training in order to give accomplished people the knowledge and skill they need to become accomplished speakers. Learn more public speaking tips at www.SimsWyeth.com.