Forbes Contributor Joshua Steimle writes about presenting his first TEDx talk and mentions Carmine’s book, Talk Like TED

Article transcript:

I had never spoken in front of more than 200 people, but on May 31st, 2014 I walked out on a stage in Hong Kong, stood in a red circle of carpet in front of 1,000 people, and delivered my first talk at a TEDx event. I couldn’t see the crowd due to the lights in my eyes, but I knew they were there. Worse, untold thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, would view my talk online. I didn’t think I was scared, but my subconscious knew better than I did, and it was terrified.

Just a few months earlier I sat talking with Jong Lee, serial entrepreneur, angel investor, and co-curator of TEDxHongKong and TEDxHongKongED. We were talking business, and we got on the topic of the upcoming May TEDx event, which would focus on education. “Could I give a talk at that?” I asked. “I’m passionate about education and think I could come up with something interesting.” “Sure!” Lee replied. I’m sure most TEDx speakers go through something of a more thorough application process, but in my case it turned out to be based primarily on knowing the right guy.

Before I walked out of my meeting with Mr. Lee I had already decided how I would prepare. I was going to read every book and article on giving TED talks I could find. I was going to watch the top 20 TED talks and learn something from each one. I would write down my entire talk and have it done a month ahead of time. I would practice. I would practice in front of a camera and watch myself, even though I hate watching video of myself. And I would absolutely not be up late the night before my talk, scrambling to get it done.

I managed to keep some of my commitments. I read Talk Like TED by Carmine Gallo–twice. I read a few articles. I watched a handful of the top TED talks. I started writing my talk. And then I got busy. I wasn’t procrastinating, I was legitimately swamped. Every day I woke up, determined to work on it, and then something would come up with my day job and I would be busy until late at night, and then the process would repeat itself. This went on for weeks. And so it was that I found myself putting the finishing touches on my talk at 3:30 am the morning of the event, having gotten perhaps a grand total of 8 hours of sleep during the past three days.

Once my presentation was complete, I got ready to go, caught a few hours of sleep, and then woke up to work my way to the venue. Total practice time in preparation for my talk? Less than two hours. That would be fine if I were speaking for an hour, but I was limited to 14 minutes, and that meant I had to memorize my talk or risk getting cut off. My talk was not memorized, and worse, because I had written and rewritten my talk several times over, rearranging parts of it along the way, the sections of my talk were mixed up in my mind.

And there I stood, staring into the stage lights, struggling to remember what the public speaking consultant I had met at a dinner party the day before had told me. What was it? Oh yes, take three deep breaths. I took a breath, and my right leg started shaking. I took another breath and the right side of my lower lip started to quiver. Had this been a colossal mistake? Some part of me seemed to think so. Was it too late to run offstage? Another quick breath, and I started to speak.

What happened next was a bit of a blur. I remember wondering if everyone could hear how my throat was tensing up. There were several moments when I was completing a sentence and I had no idea what I was supposed to say next. Thank goodness I was able to rely on my presentation slides as notes. Halfway through my talk I realized I had forgotten to deliver a significant chunk of my talk earlier on. Could I still stick it in? No, it wouldn’t fit with what I was talking about at the moment. Best to move on.

I felt like a miniature man, observing events from inside my skull. I was controlling a giant’s mouth and his hand gestures, but I was only partially in control, working unwieldy levers to try and get the giant to not make a fool of himself. Somehow, I remembered most of my key points. I delivered them as best I could, and I finished. I was exhausted, yet high on adrenaline. It took the better part of an hour for my body to return to what could be considered a normal state.

Afterward, attendees complimented me, but it was difficult to know whether they were merely being polite. I couldn’t know until I saw the video. But that would only happen after all the videos were edited and placed online. The videos were placed online three weeks ago. But I haven’t watched my performance yet. I’ve been a bit busy. Or maybe this time I’m just procrastinating.