Part of the reason I was slow to buy it was because I think I ingest all the speaking advice I can already.
Turns out, this book is mostly not advice – it’s a collection of stories about his own experiences. I really liked it for that, it was an insight into that kind of life. In the end the main piece of advice is to practice, with some blunt honesty on why people don’t. My favourite part were the stories of disaster, which were hilarious, (in the appendix).
Main thing that bothered me was constant use of he, including in what to wear. This happened pretty often – every chapter – and each time I felt like this wasn’t really a book for me? Most of it still applies… But not all.
On the whole whether I recommend it depends on how much that would bother you. Sometimes that really winds me up and sometimes I can deal with it, and fortunately I read it when I was in the second kind of mood.
I’m not a fan of panels because so often they are bad, so it’s great to have a resource on how to do them better.
The parts I found most useful were:
The step by step guide to preparing as a moderator – I read it contemplating my first moderator gig and having no idea what to do! (It fell through, so now I’ll have to look for another opportunity to use what I learned.)
The set of exercises and questions to make the panel less generic.
Ways to interrupt! Which let’s be honest is useful for women in meetings, too.
The book is targeted at the moderator, but could also be useful for being a good panelist because it’s packed full of tips. I highly recommend reading it if you are involved in any kind of panel.
When I decided it was time to leave my corporate tech job, I made an 18 month plan. One key item on it: speaking at conferences.
I prepped one talk (building it off some of my more popular blog posts), and submitted it to a number of places, hoping it would be accepted at one of them. Actually it was accepted everywhere I submitted it, and I got invited to give it as well.
But here’s something it wasn’t: cheap. I had pretty low expectations for myself and wasn’t sure of my value, so I submitted to places that didn’t cover travel costs and had to pay them myself. Because the company I worked for wasn’t generally supportive of giving external talks (other than Token Women talks), I took vacation days. I also got speaker coaching, which I used to improve my narrative and my confidence.
I thought this would be the kind of thing that would be interesting to track, so made a spreadsheet. As a result, I have a total cost of what I called “The Year of Being Visible”. This is travel and hotels not covered by conferences, speaker coaching, and extra haircuts.
Here it is: GBP 2528.14. USD 3767 at the current exchange rate.
What is not included: vacation days taken. Food (I figured I was going to be eating anyway). Some flights (twice I was able to get part way there on flights covered by work things). Time.
Things I Learned
The biggest thing I learned over the course of the year of being visible, was that I could totally be a public speaker. That I could give talks that people loved. That I could use this to see more of the world.
Because where I used to work was very insular, I had rarely attended conferences. I discovered that attending these conferences was one of the biggest perks of speaking – I learned so much from other talks, met so many great people and really felt a lot better about the tech community and particularly men in the tech community. In part I think this is because of the abundance mentality – if I do a great talk, it doesn’t take away from anyone else’s. Also I felt safer in conferences with Code of Conducts (especially when I had seen them be enforced) than I used to at work.
I learned how to ask for things that officially aren’t covered, and started negotiating more.
My main tip is to find your story, the one that only you can tell. Maybe something you’ve already been tweeting or writing about that is already resonating with people.
Get help. If I was to redo this on a budget, speaker coaching is the one thing I wouldn’t cut completely. There are people kind enough to offer free office hours for this, and conference organisers who are willing work with potential speakers to help them submit. I’d replace further flung trips with local meet-ups instead.
I read a lot about how important it is to get more women speakers (and PoC!) at tech conferences, and I agree it’s important. But one of the things I’ve found as a speaker, who is also a woman, is that I get invitations to fill what I refer to as “the woman speaker slot”.
The clues usually arise in the request:
It’s at an event for women.
They want me to talk about being a woman (often combined with being an event for women).
The lineup was announced already… and it’s a bunch of (white) dudes.
There is a section in the email that essentially says “if not you please help us find another woman” (optional extra: I am in no way qualified to speak on that topic).
They actually say, “I need to find a woman speaker” (optional extra: “because other speakers or sponsors are complaining”).
OK the first step to addressing a problem is to admit you have one. But it’s best not to admit it in your speaker invitation, or to leave it so late that you announced the problem on your conference website.
I used to get offended by the request to come and be a token. But I’ve decided to reframe it.
First, I feel no obligation to say yes to these invitations. I will do it if it suits me, and I won’t if it doesn’t. If I have some goodwill towards the organiser, I may help them find someone else, or I may not.
Second, I use it as an opportunity to practise negotiation. Instead of saying “no”, I say “I only speak at events where my travel costs are covered, and depending on the event I also ask for a speaker fee. Let me know what you are open to and we will go from there.”
Third, if I do agree to do it, I remind myself that the audience has no idea I was invited because I’m a woman. As far as they are concerned, I’m qualified. So if I rock it, that will be the end of my tokenisation.
I’ve not been giving many token women talks lately, which I attribute mostly to the second strategy. It is frankly amazing how many organisers think I will be willing to come and be a token women at their event for the sake of “exposure”. It is appalling how many of them think that I will cover my own travel costs to do so. It is particularly jarring when these organisers are large, profitable, tech companies.
Women events, talks about being a women in tech, and thinly-disguised recruiting events, are particularly annoying. There’s plenty to be said on fixing the problem of poor representation of women in tech, but there is one thing I am relatively certain will not fix anything, and that is asking women to do extra unpaid work. So when I am asked to do extra, unpaid work, for the sake of “women in tech” or “the community” (is this the community that harasses and doxxes my friends?) I say no.
Finally, when asked to help find other women to help with things like this, or diversity consulting etc, I ask if they will be paid, and if not, I say that I will not help. If you did the same, together we might make a difference. After-all, the data shows women get less flack for asking for others, than we do asking for ourselves.
Of course, I have been guilty of many of these things too. But now, when I look back at my time in Corporate Feminism what I feel proud of are those times when I was able to get other women recognised or rewarded.
How to Deliver a TED Talk (Amazon) is packed with some solid and fairly standard public speaking advice, which was good, but the most interesting parts for me were the deconstructions of TED talks. When prepping talks personally, I think a lot about my narrative, and taking notes during other peoples helps me see theirs better, although this guy takes it to a whole other level!
All in all I thought it was worth a read. From the perspective of a public speaking nerd and as a speaker (although less so the latter).
I’ve written before about how I prepare mentally for a talk. Most recently, I’ve started to view it as a performance and be more and more (as the fall conference season is now underway) I’ve got more comfortable with the things I need to give a good performance. This change is mental, viewing it as a performance (rather than, commonly, a terrifying obligation past-me committed to), so differences are subtle, but important. I felt really good giving my last talk, which I think is a sign it’s time to prep a new one!
Because, it is a performance. I stand up in front of people, not my natural habitat, and try to be intensively witty and insightful.
I hope I’m usually witty and insightful, but in conversations, you take turns. On stage, it’s all on me.
One of my pet peeves as an audience member is when speakers are unprepared (even, maybe especially when they apologise for it!) Not preparing is disrespectful to the audience who have given up their time, and often significant amounts of money to be there.
If I’m speaking, then everything I do is around showing up prepared and in a good place mentally. This makes the conference experience very different. I feel OK about missing talks prior to mine. Although, pro-tip, for small conferences it’s worth letting them know you are hiding prior to your talk, and when to expect you as they may worry if they don’t see you!
Now, I always ask for travel costs (most conferences give speakers a free ticket) in part because it means I don’t feel any obligation to make the cost of attending worthwhile. Any value I got (which has typically been high) is gravy. Everything comes second to the performance.
Decompression time afterwards is also important. I usually use some of this time to make a storify of tweets during my talk.
Following day – a good night’s sleep and a good breakfast!
The other thing I’ve realised is that as a speaker, you can ask for things. Like water. Or to avoid specific slots. You can also ask for specific slots, but that is much harder for the organisers. It is incredibly hard organising a conference, so I try to go along with as much as possible and only ask for the things that will genuinely make an impact on my talk.
Prepare.
Hide (mental prep / power poses).
Setup equipment, test sound etc.
Perform.
Hide.
Socialise (this is when people say nice things! Don’t want to miss that!)
This year’s talk – Distractedly Intimate – has been given in timeframes ranging from 20 minutes to 45 minutes. And though I tweak and personalise it each time (especially when it was the final talk of the conference!) it has remained substantially the same.
That is because it is built on a grid.
This means that there are different adjustments that can be made. E.g. including a section – Application is for longer talks only.
Cutting points, so if I wanted to cut to 15 minutes I might remove a point from each section.
Shortening stories. The close contains a video, which is nice because it gives me a short break and I can come back for a strong finish, but the difference between 25 and 20 minutes is removing the video, and cutting some details of the stories in sections 1, 2 and 3.
The above is the maximum time example – in this case, 40 minutes.
25 minutes is as follows:
20 minutes:
15 minutes:
One thing to keep in mind is having the right amount of content for the time. I hate those talks where I feel like someone talked for 40 minutes and only made 2 real points, and I never want to give one. But I also hate it when the presenter tries to pack too much in and loses the audience because they’ve missed out key things, or the content is too complicated for the timeframe.
I don’t think this talk is really suited for the 15 minute version, so I probably wouldn’t give it in that time. I think the base content is right for 20 minutes, and so every longer session I should increase the information content. My favourite version is the 25 minute version, because I love the video and the time frame is less tight. 40 minutes is a long time to listen to anyone, which is why I mix it up a bit and take a different approach to add that extra ~10 minutes of content and focus on application, rather than ideas (this section gets the least laughs, but I hope people find it useful!)
This approach might seem overly structured, but the purpose of each point is to have a takeaway, and weave a story around it. So, the grid is the concept which in one transformation becomes the (heavily visual) slide deck, and in another transformation it’s the structure I weave my narrative around. I don’t need a slide for each point, but I do need slides (because video!) and I think showing my twitter handle on each slide encourages the audience to tweet about it so I create one for each item in the grid, and it works for me.
There are few things more impressive to me than an excellent presentation, without slides, but often I find speakers without slides become a little unstructured and lose their way. For me the change of slide says “here is a new point” which audience member, or speaker, I appreciate, and I’ll keep them for longer talks – for now.
Preparing one talk, really well, and delivering it multiple times (being careful about not to the same people!) has been great for building my confidence, and has made the investment of time in creating the talk much more worthwhile. Now each conference is 1-2 hours of prep time, rather than 20+. This makes the 5 I will speak at between September and November much more manageable.
I read Gravitas (Amazon) really slowly, and part of the reason for that was that I wanted to take the time and process each chapter. The “gravitas” eqation of
There were a couple of tips I found particularly helpful. The first, on being present. FOFBOC, or feet on floor, bum on chair. It’s about being where you are, getting out of your head and back into you body and being where you are. With your feet on the floor, and your bum on the chair.
The other answered a question I had been asking myself. I was wondering why I wasn’t as charismatic in certain situations as I am in other areas of my life. Why is it in some areas people open up to me and tell me things, and in others… the opposite? I wondered if I less able to project warmth in those situations.
So the second thing that I found helpful was the section on gremlins. One of which is the gremlin of feeling threatened, or got at. And I realised, that my charisma was sapped, yes because I feel less warm, but really, because I feel braced for threat.
All in all, I recommend it. I think women need help walking that fine line between being a bitch, and being a pushover. This book, I think, helps us walk it.
This is the easiest bit. I can spend as much time as I want here. The goal: a strong narrative that weaves together my key points (most of the work). Attractive, minimalist slides that illustrate them (much less work). Knowing what I’m going to say, and being able to speak fluently about the sections. I wrote more about this here.
Show Up
This is logistics, what to wear, how to get there, when to arrive. But also, everything I do to keep me from panicking and makes sure I show up mentally present.
Two day conference, and I’m speaking on the second day. On the first day, there are some great talks, which I alternate between appreciating, and panicking that they are signs that I shouldn’t be there, that I have nothing to offer, that this was all a mistake. I go for a walk. I miss two talks that I would like to see, but I am dramatically calmer as a result so have no regrets.
At another event, I miss my friend’s keynote so that I don’t have to deal with rush hour traffic.
I make time to swim the night before, and to wake up naturally. I eat breakfast. I hide away for at least 30 minutes, preferably an hour, before I speak.
Start Talking
In some ways, the easiest bit. At this point, I am committed – there is no way I’m going to be this guy.
This is the point where I have to be 100% committed to what I’m saying. I can fit in contextual remarks, allude to earlier talks, but the salient points were set long ago. They are happening.
Typically, I keep a script with me, and follow it closely, but hopefully people can’t tell. It’s helpful not just from a “this is what I’m saying” perspective, but also because it forces me to pause. Look down, check, look up, speak. It’s harder to do this when I’m super nervous – pauses are a sign of confidence. Being able to take a real breath, live with the seconds of silence that seem to last forever.
Hide
I’m an ambivert, which means a lot of people think I’m extraverted, but they don’t see me when I’m hiding. After a talk? I need to hide.
This is where I high tail it to a quiet place, as soon as possible. I smile politely, thank people for kind remarks. All recent talks, I was on a panel soon after, I made time for a brief moment of mental quiet. And then when I can get away, I do. Ideally to spend the evening at home alone – I find that immediately after a talk I’m really hungry (probably related to nerves killing my appetite before one), and then really exhausted. I go with that.
I eventually try and respond to all tweets, but not necessarily immediately, I also collect them in Storify [1, 2, 3], which is really helpful to show that a talk was well received and engaging. I might want to hear the talk following mine, but I’ll invariably miss it either physically or mentally – I’m just too overwhelmed afterwards, I can tell my heart is still racing, and I’m frantically checking twitter to see what people are saying (it’s nerve wracking to do this when I’m coming on stage again, I might get some much-needed confidence, or I might be crushed. So far this year, it’s been the good result).
Being alone afterwards for me is a key part of the process. It’s how I rebase, re-equilibriate. I plan it in, in the same way that I plan how to get there.
…
I used to worry that some of these actions would make me seem stand-offish. I’ve let that go. Everyone agrees that speaking is terrifying, and yes people might want you to go to the pub afterwards, or show up to their talk. But it’s better for everyone involved if I show up ready to give a good show. The four step plan? This is what best sets me up for that.
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I kept meaning to buy Confessions of a Public Speaker (Amazon) because I read his blog, and I finally got around to it.
