It wasn’t until I understood the Gospel (that Jesus died and rose again to rescue the perishing) that I realized that in our desire for a good story, lies the elementary seedling of the Gospel.

Let me explain this in parts.

Every good story has a hero.  The Gospel shows Jesus as the God-man who is as meek and innocent as he is powerful and omniscient.  We get tingles when we see a superhero discover his/her powers.  Likewise, we get excited when we see the God-man exercise his powers over creation, healing the sick, feeding the multitude, and even giving death a much-needed holiday as He raises deceased souls back to life.

That’s a hero.  That’s someone you root for.

Every good story has conflict.  Conflict drives the plot, right?  After all, if we read about utopia and idealism, we’re on the highway to boring with no rest stops en route.  But Jesus’ life is filled with drama.  From his conception, his mother receives a reputation of a whore, he lives in poverty, he selects a diverse group of people to follow him – some of them have ill tempers and are impetuous, some of them doubt, and one of them is possessed by the devil.  On top of this, there is a meta conflict of the established religious system demanding that Jesus either be silenced or executed.

Conflict. Everywhere.  Check!

Then, there is the “All is Lost” moment.  Yes, we need that in a story.  Where you are reading and your heart aches for the characters and loses itself to that pivotal scene of discouragement.  This is the part where you almost throw the book down, and the story of Jesus is no exception.  How can the God who controls weather, sickness, wine and even the effects of death just go and die?  How?  This is such a twist.  But it lends itself to another great part of a story.

An act of sacrifice.

Yeah, you got the chill bumps when Katniss Everdeen volunteered as Tribute in The Hunger Games, or when Tom Hanks grabbed Matt Damon’s arm in Saving Private Ryan and demanded that he “earn this” with regards to the loss of life of the soldiers to save Damon’s.  Spoiler alert: even if you don’t care for the side-story, the concept of the Rogue One team in the Star Wars universe being martyred for the cause of delivering the Death Star plans was pretty gripping.

How about God Himself dying?  Giving Himself over to death as a ransom?  Pretty sure that trumps all, and that’s why when we see those scenes from our favorite movie, the Gospel echoes in the plot line.

Oh, and how about the villain.  This is of utmost importance.  This is where two paths may diverge with regards to reading the Gospel.  We want to think of the villain as the Devil, maniacal, standing there tapping his fingers on an ornate oak desk and being told by some low-level demon that the Son of God died.  We want to see him laughing and rejoicing.  We want him to be the bad guy.  And we’ll even extend that antagonist spirit to the good old Pharisees for that religious fervor of theirs that was just a little too enthusiastic to be graceful.

However, the Bible puts us often in the seat of the villain.  Us having our own desire that brings harm to the hero.  In the Gospel, it’s our desire to live for ourselves, live out of concert with the God who made us, and inevitably bring destruction that provides the need for the hero’s sacrifice.  This is what makes the Gospel uncomfortable, but if you remove us from the picture, there is enough villainy in this story to keep those parchment pages turning one after another.

Which brings me to my final and most favorite part of observation with regards to the Gospel and storytelling.  The surprise ending.  Yes.  That beautiful magic bullet which delivers to the reader a payoff that’s worth the price of the book alone and demands more work from that author.  This, my friends, is better than good.  A surprise ending that stops the heart of even the strongest supporters of the protagonist is the worth the time invested reading.

In this case, a resurrection.

Yep.  A bonafide “This hero is so strong that even death cannot touch him” moment.  The raising of Jesus from the grave is the piece de resistance of the Gospel story.

And the core foundation of the Christian faith.

And mankind’s only hope.

And the ultimate proof of victory.

I could go on, but I think you get it.

All that to say, I think that I spent years and years loving those stories, because God was preparing my heart to hear the most important story.  I also think that now, since I’m a fantasy writer, it’s my job to bring those central themes to the forefront of my storytelling.  The Gospel is the story beyond any ever written.  And it’s powerful enough to provide a backdrop for every good narrative ever.

And to save your soul.

I haven’t written about this in a while, so I figured it would be important to do.

In November of last year, I wrote a book.  I actually ended up writing two books because of the decision i made to split them at the end.  However, the pain point I’m at now is making that transition.  The transition that I believe holds up a lot of writers, and one that I’m struggling with.

How do I transition from being an artist that gets his thoughts on a page to an author that gets his words into a reader’s mind?

Shawn Coyne from the StoryGrid Podcast says that every writer wants their work to be read.  If they didn’t, they’d keep a journal and not tell anyone about it.  I would have to agree.  I have always written, but this was the first time I’ve written with the intention of getting published and getting moving.

So it’s my goal, by the end of this year, to produce the best final product of a book that I can in my own strength.

Here’s the rub: I don’t know how to produce it.  I have conscious incompetence.  I know that we are living in an age where technology affords me to hit publish on my computer and produce my first novel in 30 minutes.  But I feel like I’m missing some in-between steps.  Maybe it’s a confidence thing.

Maybe I’m rambling.

At any rate, here are the things that I’m doing in my next phase of the novel.

1) I’m hiring a developmental editor.  I’m at the place right now where I’ve invested so much of myself into this, that I must invest some money as well.  I know that someone that has done this before is going to make me aware of some elementary things that I’m doing that I simply can’t see.  The problem is the price range for editors (even through professional sites like Reedsy) vary between a couple hundred dollars and several thousand!  It’s a difficult decision to make.

2) I’m going to have a round of Beta Readers.  I have a working list of people who read a lot.  I am not picking people because they like me.  Heck, I’d have the whole world as beta readers if that was the main criteria (kidding kidding).  But I want people that enjoy reading and get the feels from a good story.  I want them to tell me why my story does or doesn’t give them said feels.

3) I’m going to work on all the auxiliary stuff.  I don’t have an author website.  I don’t have a cover designer.  I don’t have ISBN’s.  I’m not even sure how to do a pre-order.  I have to work on the business of being an author (that’s a new book by Jane Friedman, by the way) as well as the craft.  I know less about this administrative stuff than I do about editing.

4) I really am going to pray for a mentor.  Yeah, I know it sounds cheesy.  I’m looking for that older wiser author that has been through the rigors of fiction-writing that puts his arm around me and says, “I’m going to walk you down the road that I should have taken when I was your age.”  Except, it will probably be someone who is younger than me who has a little more hustle and a lot more wisdom.  He probably won’t put his arm around me, and we’ll probably just Skype.

Regardless, I want this person and I am hoping they show up.

That’s it.  That’s what I’m doing to move from the writing phase to the publication phase.  I hope you stick with me.

I need to ask you what you’re an expert in.  Please tell me about your expertise.

Oh, I’m sorry. You misunderstand me.  I didn’t ask about your mistakes, your failings or how you didn’t finish that degree.

I asked you what you’re an expert in.

I’m listening very creepily to a conversation between a woman who owns her own house cleaning business.  It sounds like she is interviewing someone who she might hire.  But listening to her describe her client list and what she does made me realize something.

We are all experts in things.  We don’t think so because we have a problem called low self-esteem.  We think so badly of ourselves constantly.  We think that we are less than those we encounter.

Do you wanna hear something mind-blowing?

Your low self-esteem doesn’t keep you from being an expert at things.

Nope, not even a little bit.

So, I’m here to tell yo that as bad as you feel about yourself right now, it means absolutely nothing with regards to your level of expertise.

However, it absolutely limits your desire and confidence to tell people of your expertise and help them find their own way.  And that, in my opinion, is robbery.

God has permitted you to experience unique things, but the healing, the hurting, and the huge pile of information you’ve accumulated in the process was never meant to be hoarded.

So, would you like me to tell you how to know your expertise?  It’s actually very simple, but you have to get out of your own head in order to realize it.

1) What is one thing that people tend to ask you a lot about?  Think this through.  What is the thing that people ask you concerning something you’ve experienced?  Is it related to your career?  Is it related to something you’ve experienced personally?

2) What is something that you could talk about forever?  What doesn’t get old to you?  It’s something that others only have a cursory knowledge of , and you have a PhD in (by PhD I mean, Passion Heart and Drive to learn more).

3) What’s something you catch yourself searching for online repeatedly?  Do you like watching people rebuild cars?  Do you like watching real estate shows?  What comes up in your browsing history and what do you love diving deeper into?

4) What have you experienced and succeeded at that others have fallen to pieces experiencing?  Public speaking?  Writing?  How about your marriage?  Did you survive an affair?  Did you survive the loss of a child and still found the strength to enjoy your life?

If you distill your experiences and filter them through the lens of expertise, you’re going to realize that there’s more value in the life you’ve lived that you can ever put a price tag on.

Now, here’s your homework:  Answer those above questions.  Then, go find someone and show off your expertise.  Yeah, it might be awkward, but so what?  Missing the opportunity to show your expertise to someone in desperate need is worse.

I’m way better at post-routines than I am at pre-routine.  If you are a speaker, an actor, or a presenter of any kind, there is so much power in the unwinding.

Yeah, I called it unwinding, because that’s what it is.  There needs to be an unwinding on your part.  When you stand before people, or you’re focusing just on them, you’re wound.  You’re not relaxed.

This is where a person says, “I’m most comfortable when I am in front of people, that’s where I feel most at home.”

I totally get that, you trail blazer, you, but you’re not in sweat pants and a hoodie.  Sure, I get energized sharing truth with people, but the feeling of goodness I have there is not the same feeling I have when I’m sitting with my wife watching Gordon Ramsey swear at someone in Hell’s Kitchen.  GET OUT! (In fantastic British accent).

So, I do have somewhat of an unwind strategy at some points.  For instance, I’m a lot more comfortable preaching than I am with my corporate training.  I love both and they are both entirely different.  Preaching feels more natural to me.  The corporate training has a great energy, but it requires me to turn something different on in my brain.  And I feel spent when I get done with training.

So, on the way home after the final class, I sit in my car for two seconds, put my AirPods in, and I blast a song that I’m not going to share with you (Yeah, I’m not telling.  My stuff is sacred, plus it’s important that you find your own).

I let the class end with the beginning of that song.

It. Feels. Amazing.

I love that I do this.  I delivered several keynotes a while back to a non-profit organization.  I had a song I would listen to every day on the way home form delivering the keynotes.  I would blast the song and sing as loud as I could.

It was cathartic.  And if you heard it, I would hope and expect you would say it sounded beautiful!

Here are some routines you could try before a presentation or after.

Before:

Solitude – Get alone with yourself and silence your phone.

Mantra – Have a phrase that pumps you up or relieves your mind.  This is great to relieve anxiety.

Food – Something specific you want to eat or drink.  Be cautious of this.  If you’re doing a three-hour training, you might not want to do the Man vs Food hot wing challenge.  But, maybe something that you like that’s a treat wouldn’t hurt to indulge.

Music – Same deal, something that you want to do to pump you up.

After:

Collapse – I slump into my chair in my office after every sermon I preach.

Music – Make this different than you’re music you get pumped up to.  This should be celebratory and decompressing.

Outing – What do you like to do?  Bookstore to read some fiction?  Maybe a trip in nature.

Show – Some planned entertainment is good.  A treat would be something you’re not doing during prep time.

Food – I get fat after I speak.  I can’t even lie to you about it.  Since I typically don’t like to eat before any kind of speaking, I’m pretty ravenous on the way out of presentation land.

Those are just some ideas.  Having a routine before or after will really help to minimize the difficult waters of connecting with people through your presentation.

And we all cringe.

When someone does something to “spice up” their talk, and it has the opposite effect.

The video freezes.  The slide has a typo.  The joke bombs.  The live demonstration fails (see Steve Jobs with the Iphone).

It hurts so bad to watch.

However, in my opinion, as far as talks go, even small presentations, illustrations are a necessary evil.

Let’s talk about why.

Well, the mind can only process so much information at a time.  I don’t know the science behind it, but our attention spans are shrinking more and more with each passing – wait, hold on, I just got a ReTweet.

We have so many things competing for our attention.  Therefore, as a presenter, we must end the competition by commanding the attention of the audience.

Enter our frenemy, the illustration.

I define illustration as a mental break from the conveyance of content for the purposes of re-engaging the audience.  This has many different forms.

• Jokes
• Stories
• Videos
• Audience participation (questions)
• Powerpoint
• Demonstration
• Graphs
• Statistics
• Testimonials
• Pictures
• Dance moves (that’s just me)

The list goes on and on.  These are important tools for giving a talk.  And just like tools, they can become weapons that destroy your presentation.

So, what do we have to do in order to keep them from killing what we are trying to say?

Here are my general rules of thumb:

1) When it comes to stories, stats or jokes, either know it perfect or skip it entirely.  NYT Bestselling Author Jon Acuff just sent an email this morning about public speaking and he said the rule is

“Know or no.”

That is absolutely right.

If you don’t know the material that you’re trying to present as an illustration, it will do the opposite. It will come across as a distraction and it will make you look like a presentation poser (yeah, it’s a thing).

2) Videos, slides, powerpoint and any other media must be tested, and then tested, and then tested once more.  The only time a visual illustration fails is when you’re using it.  It looked great on your iMac in your office.  That video played fine on the iPhone.  However, if it’s going to break, it’s going to happen in front of your audience.

I delivered a keynote to a large group of non-profit workers once.  I had to do the talk three days in a row.  I was so paranoid about loading my stuff onto their computer (I had three videos and a powerpoint) that I just brought my own laptop, presentation software, and connecting cords.

And guess what. . .when they loaded my stuff into their system, it didn’t work.  My laptop came in handy and it was flawless (the presentation illustrations, anyway, not the talk!).  During testing, it took two minutes for us to hook my machine up and test it and I was rolling like a snowball in an avalanche.

I think we need to test things more.

As an aside, with video illustrations and powerpoint, and this is just me, I prefer to have someone else running them than me.  I know that I’ve seen it done a bunch of ways, and I may waver on this, but I like the idea that I’m only focusing on giving the talk, not advancing the slide.

3) If it gets messed up, move on.   I think I’ve said this before a handful of times!  But don’t try to save it.  Don’t try to redeliver the joke.  And don’t have them re-play the video.  Unless you’re Steve Jobs doing a tech presentation about the new iPhone, your illustration now has turned into a weapon.  And just like Superman and Kryptonite, it’s best that you distance yourself from it as quickly as possible.

As a side note, make a joke when something fails.  Do it.  Let it go a little bit.  I wanna write a whole section at some point on when you mess up a talk.  In the meantime, don’t pretend it was smooth. Own it and your audience will see you’ve still regained your confidence.

4) Make sure what you’re saying is true.  The internet machine has made many public speakers liars.  Don’t be afraid to say “I read this here.”  Or, “In an article I was reading on Time, it said…” or, “I don’t know if this is true, but I read…”

When your transparency about how you came to your information goes up, so does your audience’s connection with you and their trust in you.  Huge deal if you wanna ever deliver more than one talk.

5) Don’t you dare turn around and read those slides.  I told you before about this.  Don’t turn your back to the audience.  I was filming a presentation once for a company and the businessman doing the talk did a total “about face” and turned and faced his powerpoint, as though he was singing it a love song and the audience had the privilege of peeking in on this sacred exchange.

Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.

Those slides aren’t for you.  They’re for your audience.  Use notes if you need to, but if you’re so dependent on the slides that you need them every moment, you are not ready to give that talk.  No way, Jose.

6) Don’t forget illustrations are to enhance your content, not to become it.  I have been guilty of spending so much time on an illustration that I neglected the content.  That’s a crime.  If your content isn’t solid, the illustrations are going to make what you are saying look like marshmallow fluff.  And that may be appetizing to eat, but it ain’t pretty to watch.

7) Connect or reject.  This is just a final thought.  If you can’t tie in your illustration to the content of your talk, it’s not appropriate.  You have to be able to transition into what you’re talking about.

Again, I am chief of sinners on this.  I’ve used awesome illustrations.  But when you are doing this during a presentation and it doesn’t connect, you end up coming across like the little boy on Jerry McGuire that keeps giving random facts from the back seat that have nothing to do with the adult talk going on in front.  “Jerry, did you know the human head weighs eight pounds?  Did you know bees and dogs can smell fear?”

Yeah, that’s you.  That’s how you sound when you use an unconnected illustration.  Except you’re not cute.  And I’m bored and confused.

So, that’s how to keep your illustration from turning into a devastation to your presentation (that’s the best line I’ve written all year).

Unfortunately, the hotel I was staying at was just outside of the on-ramp for the highway that I needed to be on en route to my business destination.

Long story a little longer, I had to get on the main road next to the hotel, then I immediately had to get three lines over to an exit.

Both the sign and the GPS didn’t prepare me well by giving an indication of the level of aggression needed to complete this merge.  In fact, it seemed so easy.

But it wasn’t.

One morning, I drove onto the main road and then I tried to get over to the melody of angry beeps of the natives around me heading to work.  I don’t know about you, but when that happens, I always want to roll the window down and tell them my whole story.

“Hey, you don’t realize this is a rental and I don’t feel comfortable flooring it and my hotel is right there and they were late checking me out this morning because there was a soccer team checking in at the same time and they all had special dietary needs for the day of room service and. . . Hey why are you still giving me the finger?”

But of course, those angry exchanges with travelers don’t allow you to tell them your story.  And confusing road signs with little or no warning of upcoming change only adds to the drama.

This is the case for your audience and where you’re going with your talk.

As someone coming to your presentation, I want to know several things?

What do I need to get out of this?

What’s in it for me?

What do I have to do?

How long is this going to take?

Where is the closest McDonald’s or Burger King (okay maybe this one is just mine)?

Again, I’m going to throw pastors up front on this.  I’ve been under some teaching where the pastor is pretty directionless (please don’t take me wrong, I’ve done this before and I know how easy it can be).  They wonder from fact to fact, throw in an observation, but it’s pretty clear that the plane is in the air and we are running out of fuel; however, there is no landing in sight.

Danger.  We are going to end up on the island from LOST quickly.

I believe in being yourself with a talk.  I believe in leaving room for instant inspiration as the Spirit moves, but I also believe that as a presenter, you should have a certain level of direction you’re setting for the audience.

This can be obtained from any one of these ways:

1) Have a hand out.  We can cover this in a discussion of illustrations.  But a hand out is a good way to let the crowd know that they are in for in terms of your content and timing.

2) Have a set time of ending. If you are speaking at an event with other speakers, this is a non-negotiable.  If you’re speaking just you, this is a difficult task.  You have to be willing to be ruthless about your own timing.

3) Give them an overview toward the beginning.  I like doing this when I speak.  “We are going to be examining four ingredients of a good marriage.”  Or, “These are five things you should avoid when giving a talk.”  Or, “Anxiety comes in many forms, we are going to look at eight of the most common ones during our time together.”

4) Let them know when you’re concluding and mean it.  I’ve violated this piece of advice more than I’d care to admit.  I will say something along the lines of “in conclusion,” or “in closing” and then I speak for another 15 minutes.  That’s bad.  If you’re going to conclude, make it close to the last thing you talk about.  Telling the audience you’re closing gives a mental break for them to prepare to pay attention one final time.

So, don’t get lost in your talk.  If you know where you’re going, share it with the crowd.  They’ll offer you more engagement as a gesture of gratitude.

She swiped left right up and down and nothing.

The Ipad was restarted, shaken, and even sinked.

Nothing.

Not one saved note.

My wife was panic-stricken.  It was about eight minutes before we were to teach about 11 couples in our marriage group.  Speaking was second-nature to me, but this was a real courageous step in leadership for her.

And she was devastated.  She had no idea where her notes were and she was about to cry when I grabbed her hands, looked deep into her eyes, and said to her, “Sweetie, this is all in your heart.  It’s going to be okay.  This is going to be the best group you’ve ever taught, and God ordained those notes to go missing.”

With one solitary tear cascading down her cheek, she replied, “You’re right.”  Then she kissed me as we embraced.

No, that part didn’t happen at all.  She was pretty inconsolable when I told her it would be okay.  So I callously said, “Well, we just gotta roll!  Notes or no notes.  Too bad.”

I’m kind and sympathetic like that.

We rolled.

And surprise.  The world didn’t end.  We still had a great group, and my wife had a great discussion with the ladies of the group.

This whole situation taught me something about notes that I try to use when it comes to presentations.

I think their usefulness is more psychological than it is educational.  I realize that more and more when I prepare my presentations.

I can’t say I am cemented to this idea.  I’ve talked to pastors that manuscript their entire talks (meaning, they write them out word-for-word and revise them and everything) and I have met pastors that don’t use notes.  I’ve seen pastors take 10 hours to prepare a talk, and some take 30 hours.  I’ve also heard one pastor say it took him about 45 minutes to prepare a 90-minute message.

So, I can’t tell you that notes in your talk need to go.  But I will tell you a couple things that I do, you can take it or leave it.

I have a consistent system that doesn’t change.

I try to get all my notes for a talk down to one page. I print it in landscape form with .05 margins, and I put it in two columns.  At the end, my notes look like a book.  I cut them down the center, and tape them into my Bible (unless your a pastor, this wouldn’t really be necessary for you to bring a Bible up to do a talk).  I’m really into the one-page part of this.  My goal is to not have to turn anything.

I do not write whole sentences unless it is a direct quote.  For instance, if I’m using an illustration about the Super Bowl, it may look something like this:

(ILL) Super Bowl – coaching – cooperation – victory

This sentence most likely means nothing to you, but if you know the story I’m telling, it would.  It just reminds me of key components of the story.

I don’t write a sentence at all.

You might wonder what that little ILL is at the beginning. Can you guess?  Yep, that’s right.  It means ILLUSTRATION.

I have labels for each elements I use in a talk.

(Joke) – joke

(P.ill) – personal illustration

(Ex) – exposition of data (or in my case, Biblical text)

(Intro) – introduction

(Quest) – question I am going to ask the audience

(Conc) – Conclusion

(Vid) – video

(Pic) – picture (in powerpoint)

(Rep) – make them repeat this out loud

(BIG) – huge important thing I might want to emphasize

(APP) – application to the audience’s life

Now, if you happen to be a pastor, I don’t label Scripture nor do I label my points, and that’s because of the next part of my system for notes.

I color-code everything, with highlighters.  Yes, every line of my talk is highlighted in some color.  The highlights provide me a mental signal of the direction I’m going.  It really helps.

Purple – main point – need to say it, pic, vid

Pink – Scripture (only applies to sermons)

Blue/Yellow – exposition ( I have two colors for this because often these lines appear one after the other in my notes.  I like that I can alternate between blue and yellow so it’s not all blue or all yellow.  I also use this for intro.

Orange – joke, illustration

Green – application, BIG, Rep, Conc, Quest

I know, it’s my system, but it works for me.  It may seem odd to you.  You have to know yourself.  You really do.

Also, I should tell you that I don’t use an Ipad or phone to do my notes.  I know that may make me seem like a dinosaur.  However, hear me out.  I find that it may be distracting for me to do that.  I use technology more than just about any person in my sphere of influence, but I can’t bring myself to throw the paper away when it comes to notes.  Call me Shakespeare, but I am not ready to make that jump.

Another reason is because I am always adding and crossing things out of my talks (I give the same talk four times each weekend and trust me, it’s rare that Talk 1 and Talk 4 sound identical).

Now, let me give you some universals.  I don’t care if you use 16 pages of manuscript notes.  I don’t care if you have a three-hour speech written on your thumb.  These are my non-negotiables.

1) Never read unless it’s a quote.  This is a huge pet peeve of mine. I don’t let anyone read anything to me.  I don’t know why but it makes me nuts.  It especially absolutely makes me lose my marbles when I see a public speaker doing it.

Don’t take me wrong, I don’t think it shows a lack of preparation at all.  I think it shows a lack of confidence.

I think people would rather watch someone be confidently incompetent than someone who is unconfidently competent.

2) Have at least the main points memorized.  I don’t believe in memorizing your talk completely.  I think if you get up and regurgitate a memorized talk, you run the risk of mental constipation if you miss a line.  Then, you’ll crumble like a house of cards.  Plus, this leaves no room for, as pastors say, how the Spirit may move you.

Being in the moment means you have to sometimes let go of the plan, and see where that experience is taking you.

3) Have the intro and the conclusion memorized.  You don’t want to come out with your face in your notes immediately.  You want that to be down pretty cold.

Likewise, you don’t want to end your talk with your audience being captivated by the view of the top of your head as you look at your notes.

4) If you skip something in your notes, unless it’s a MAIN point,  Fahgettaboudit.  Just move on.  Don’t look down at your notes when you’re on the third point, and say, oh, I should have mentioned this from Point 2 because it’s interesting.

Caruso, the ship has sailed.  It’s over.  Let it rest.  Pastors are famous for this (I’ve done it myself, too, I must admit).  When we go to close in prayer, we start to pray parts of the message we didn’t speak about in some redemptive campaign to have our words heard.

It’s over like a fight with Mayweather.  Just let it go.

5) Keep your notes in one place.  Don’t take them with you.  They aren’t a pet or a child that needs nursing.  You have to move your body (we talked about that in a previous post).  You have to move and if you’re holding onto your word document with white knuckles and sweat dripping off the page, you’re not going to be able to confidently walk over to the center of the stage and describe how BIG the Grand Canyon is.

We will not be convinced.

This is more of a “security blanket fortifying confidence” thing than it is a “necessity to deliver this presentatioin” thing.

Let me close out with this.  Notes are more about confidence.  And you have to draw your confidence elsewhere.  Giving a talk is freaking nerve-racking.  You’re going to mess up, but I promise you it’s going to be okay.  The world will still spin.  I’ve delivered tons of mediocre talks where I’ve done everything from read, to carry the notes, to have next to nothing memorized.

And guess what the common thread is through all of those experiences.

I didn’t die. And neither did anyone in my family, as a result of my bad habits with notes.

I have a feeling that the same will be true for you.  Give yourself a break, and use notes as a tool, not as a tether.

I have a serious job.  Seriously.

I am a pastor, which means that I bear the weight of eternal truth and bring it to the people in the church.  I spend time with people in their most intimate moments (birth, marriage, sickness, troubles, death).

It’s easy to get discouraged at points.  But I do consider myself to be typically positive in all areas.

And the source of my ability to stay light-hearted during hard times comes down to one trait.

It’s Humor.  Yep.  Yuck yucks.

I love laughter and I love making people laugh. And to tell you the truth, it transfers into my talks.

I’ve seen this done wrong, so I implore you not to be funny for the sake of being funny.  I think you have to know yourself.  But I think if there is any way you can do it, it pays major connection dividends in your talk.

So, let’s lay some ground work.

There are several ways you can be funny, and several ways to NOT be funny.  Let’s hit the dont’s first.

1. Never degrade anyone.  You might see comedians that pick on people from the crowd, but to me, that always looked irrational and risky.  You might select the one person who has broad shoulders and a healthy sense of humor, but you’re alienating and terrifying others who may fall into your wake of insult.

2. Never try to be funny if it’s unnatural.  Give your audience a little more credit.  They can feel fake.  They might not be able to put their finger on it, but it’ll come across odd and you’ll notice it in the delivery.  I can’t tell you how many times it’s happened to me when I’ve given a sermon.  I tried to plan funny and funny planned my comedic funeral instead.

3.  Never violate the threshold of propriety of your audience for funny.  I am very aware that you may be in a context where propriety is not a priority, but you have to know what your audience views as inappropriate.  Since I’m a pastor, my appropriate-meter is set pretty high.  I’ve made inappropriate jokes before (nothing that would be deemed as classless, or filthy) and I’ve disconnected the audience.  It’s not worth it.

Now, here’s what you want to do to make humor work for you.  This goes beyond the typical “knock-knock” or “punchline” joke. Those may be good for you, but I’ve found that when I incorporate those, it doesn’t go over well.

1. Use self-effacing humor.  This requires you to be comfortable being you.  When you call attention to something that you’ve made a mistake about and make a funny situation out of it, your audience will appreciate it.  Keep in mind, it will make them laugh, but it will also allow them to see how human you are.  And human is good.  Pastor Craig Groeschel, the senior and founding pastor of Life Church, says people admire your strength, but they identify with your weaknesses.

You can’t go wrong making a joke about when you make a mistake. Providing you’re following the top rules about things to avoid, of course.

2. Capitalize on one of your own mistakes.  Tonight, I spoke to about 120 people.  I just randomly made up a word.  It was a mixture of respectful and respectable.  I think it was “respect-a-ful.”  I noticed it happen when I said it.  And I noticed some people smirking when I did.  I used it as an opportunity to make a joke.  And it went over well.

I’ve said really odd things before.  It’s important to not let your mistake go unacknowledged.  You’ll assert confidence and show the audience that you’re not taking yourself too seriously.

3.  Utilize a real-life funny story that circulating in the news.  Last week I had a great joke about Tide Pods.  People picked it up quickly because it’s been circulating.  It went well.  During the election, the harvest was ripe for humor, but you have to tread lightly.  Politics typically polarizes.  So you have to be very careful not to alienate you’re audience.

At any rate, finding ways to be funny pays off.  Your audience will focus more, and when you decide to get serious, you’ll already have their attention.

*** Bonus tip: go on Netflix and check out some comedians.  I’ve picked up a lot of presentation skills by watching stand up because they literally have to make people laugh for over an hour.  I learned about body language, tone, and even how to make a mistake from watching comedians.  Just a thought. ***

What I’ve learned about every talk I’ve given is there is something essential that I have to forget about in order for the talk to go well.

Unfortunately, it’s something that almost every presenter only thinks about.

But it’s very important to know that your audience doesn’t think about this, and therefore you shouldn’t either.

Are you ready for the secret sauce of every single great presentation?  Seriously, I am not fooling.  If you have no idea what makes a presentation great, this will take you from novice to Jedi.  Ironically, it’s not something you remember.

It’s something you forget.

Here goes:

Forget. Yourself.

Yes, that’s it.  I’m not trying to be spiritual or transcendental.  This is probably the most practical thing that I could share with you about public speaking.

If you can get to a place where the focus shifts completely from yourself, to the audience, you won.

The craziest thing is that most of us typically only think about ourselves when we are speaking.  We worry how we are going to come across, cover all the notes, make the right impression, illicit laughs with our jokes – all of that.

And at the end of the day, we only focus on ourselves when we get up to do that presentation (whether it be an informal meeting or a keynote).

The key to effective communication is connection.  When we spend our time during the presentation trying to connect only to ourselves, we have produced isolation and invited others to sit and watch us focus on ourselves.  That’s it.

And we are all alone.

I’ve been there more times than I care to admit, and when I find myself going there, I feel it after.  I know I didn’t make the connection, and I lost the point along the way.

Now, let me tell you another crazy aspect of this.  The audience doesn’t care about you.

Period.

I know, if you’re a pastor you’re gong to say they love you.  Sure they do.  And yes, they might pray for you.  But here is a cold fact:  When they walk through the doors of the  church, the board room, the auditorium, whatever,  they’re not wondering how your prep time went.  They aren’t contemplating on your physical health that day.  They aren’t focusing on whether or not you’re going to be satisfied with those bold new glasses you’re sporting.

They simply don’t care.

When I started to recognize that fact, I was completely and totally liberated.

I felt that if these people weren’t coming to hear me based on how I feel, then maybe I don’t have to feel perfect giving a talk.  Maybe, just maybe. . .I can forget myself all together and focus on. . .

Them.

Yep, just focus on them.

So from one presenter to another, you have to get out of your head.  If you stay up there, thinking of you, and worrying about you, you’ll never enter the place you’re speaking.  And when it comes to presentations, one is really the loneliest number.

So, of course, you ask, how do you do this.

I wish I knew.  I don’t know you.  I don’t know what motivates the people who are coming to hear you or meet with you.  But here are some quick guidelines.

1) Realize that every single person you’re speaking to has something going on in their lives that has nothing to do with what you’re doing – and it most likely is overshadowing and competing for their attention.  You either have to accept this, and learn how to utilize it, or you have to pretend that you are the center of the universe.

Think about them, and what they are about to experience.  Is there something you’re going to say that’s going to encourage them, motivate them, heaven forbid, IMPROVE them?  If not, maybe you’re thinking of yourself too much.

2) Understand that no mistake up there shatters the earth the way you think it does.  Let me get real personal.  I learned this the hard way.  In 2016, I spoke publicly over 120 times to hundreds of people.  Almost every single time I got up to speak, I had a massive panic attack (I will write about anxiety at some other point).  The first time it happened, it happened behind the scenes with some of my staff and key leaders.

For a year, I thought that most people who knew I struggled with this were constantly thinking about it.

Nope.  That wasn’t even close to true.

The majority of the people who witnessed the panic attack didn’t even think of it more that a couple times after the incident, and as for the other people who heard my talks, not one person recognized how tense I’d become during speaking.

Now, you can choose to frame this in a way that makes it feel as though nothing you do matters, but not me.  This made me feel absolutely liberated from the fear of speaking.  I realized that I was not everyone’s dinner conversation or a guinea pig standing on stage for scientific analysis.

I could be me.  And I could forget myself, and focus on them.

3) The energy you invest on thinking of yourself could be better spent trying to connect to the audience.  Thinking of yourself is draining.  It really is.  It requires effort.  But if you take that effort, and focus on being entirely present, and being entirely for the people you’re speaking to, they’ll notice.

I promise you.

Getting out of your head and into that crowd will be the most beautiful and difficult journey you make, but when you invest that travel time into the people you’re serving by giving a talk, they feel it.  And they’ll want more of you.

The most rewarding thing that happens when I give a talk, be it a sermon, or a presentation, is when someone comes to me and repeats something back that I said that connected with them.  I’ll laugh because I truly don’t remember saying it.  It’s at that point I realize it happened not because I’m senile and forget where I am and to wear pants sometimes.  It happened because my chief aim was connection over anything. And if you have something important to say, it’s selfish to not attempt to connect those listening to you with that content.

So, do us all a favor as a communicator: forget yourself.

In the 90s, there was a male R&B group called Tony! Toni! Tone!  I don’t remember their hits, but I remember their name, because it was easy to recall.

However, it wasn’t until I went to the record store (can you imagine how difficult it was to have to go to a store to buy music, like a freaking caveman?) that I realized that each Tony was spelled differently.

But it sounded the same.

How clever AND confusing.

As a presenter, tone is so important that I’m giving it its own article.  There is so much danger in being Monotone.

Now, when you think of mono

tone, I know you think of Ben Stein (do you have dry eyes?).  However, monotone is a little more subtle than just being soft-spoken or without fluctuation.

Billy Mays, a former infomercial TV star who has passed away, had an incredibly explosive tone with every single infomercial.  KABOOM!

But here’s the problem.  It was all the same.  He was great at expression, but he slipped dangerously into the monotone category sometimes.  (RIP Billy Mays).

My point is this, louder is not key; dynamic is.

Let’s talk this out.

If you are consistently loud or consistently soft, the audience is going to get lost at one point or another.  This

is why we fall asleep in the back of airplane.  That loud engine that made your head want to explode eventually turns into background noise after consistently listening to it.

So, what do we do?

The key is to vary how you say what you say.  This is what makes a good presenter a great presenter.  They control their tone of voice, and captivate the audience along the way.

Here are some quick tips.

1.  Look for natural places to vary your tone.  If you’re describing something “small,” for instance, use a softer tone than in a different part of your talk that would be comparing it to something “big.”

If you are telling a story about someone whispering, then you should whisper.

If you are telling a story that switches scenes, switch your tone of voice to accommodate the change.  Your audience will stay on board with you.

As a presenter, you have to look for these natural opportunities to reengage.  They pay huge attention dividends in the end.

2.  Try speaking in a sliding scale.  Start really big in the beginning of a point, then gradually quiet down as you get to the end of it.  This technique forces your audience to lean in as you approach the climax of that segment of your talk.

Remember, being quiet isn’t bad, as long as it’s not constant.

3. Don’t be afraid of impressions.  Every now and again, I get the opportunity to do an impression when giving a talk.  I’ve found that even when I do a bad impression, it goes over better than doing no impression at all.  Why?  Well, because it breaks up monotony.  It also gives the audience an opportunity to laugh at your sucky impression (we’ll talk about humor in another post).

So, take it away Tony! Toni! Tone!  But just make sure it doesn’t sound the same.