At its’ best, speechwriting is fine art – not paint-by-numbers.
But here are some of the elements common to many great speeches:
- True and Best. You want your speech to reflect what is true and best about you. In other words, your brand attributes.
- Your voice. If your speech writer can only write in his own voice and in his words, fire him. A good writer captures your voice and the way you talk.
- Your message. A good speechwriter should interview you about what you want to convey – and why – before the typing begins.
- Tell me a story. A speech tells a story. It should have a clear beginning, middle and conclusion. And it should feature actual stories, anecdotes that will be remembered long after the details are forgotten.
- It’s not a list. A speech is certainly not a list of facts, program names or numbers. No child ever climbed into a parent’s lap and said: “Mommy, tell me a… list”
- NO Space Invaders. I used to work in a newspaper bureau with two reporters whose favourite arcade game was named Space Invaders. They thought it was about their daily struggle to get their stories into print. If you’re working on a speech on behalf of a large organization, you will encounter all sorts of space invaders: well-meaning folk who urge you to include something they love in your talk. Best to ignore them.
- Killer facts. There is space for facts and figures, but for only a few, and only the most impactful ones. You want to support your message, not smother it.
- Make ‘em laugh. Experienced speakers sometimes obsess over an opening joke. They know a good one will relax everyone. They also know the joke must be true to themselves. The work of the finest joke writer will flop if it’s not authentic to you.
- Practice. If someone speaking at your wedding reception tells you he is just going to “wing it”, hide his tuxedo. The more you rehearse a speech – on your feet and out loud – the more it becomes second nature, and the more you will know what “feels right” and what should be deleted.
- Smile, dammit. A speech is a performance, in the best sense of the word. A lot goes into a great delivery – from how you mark up the text to how you seize the podium. But the most important thing – if the topic isn’t a sad one – is to smile. Look like you’re enjoying yourself and the odds are the audience will have fun, too. I once knew a political staffer in Boston whose job/honour it was to retrieve Nelson Mandella’s text the day he addressed the Massachusetts state legislature. “In giant letters at the top of the page,” he told me, “Mandella had written one word: SMILE.”