A few weeks ago, I spent a rainy evening talking about Finding The Heart of Hound. The event, hosted by Bourne Community Sailing, also celebrated a personal milestone: the first time all six of my books came together on the same table!
Afterward, one complimentary book-buyer remarked, “You must’ve done thousands of presentations.” I knew that estimate was way too high, but I couldn’t provide an accurate number. So, the next day, I counted up the talks I’ve done since my first Olympic fundraising attempts 20-plus years ago. Even including radio and newspaper interviews, the total is only around 50.
Despite (or because of) that low number, almost all of those presentations have been very well-received. I’m sure that’s because I’m usually the most passionate person in the room about my chosen subject—whether it’s the challenges and rewards of Olympic sailing, the different paths to publishing, or the original inspiration for each of my books.
But passion is not all that’s required for speechifying success. It’s equally important to customize each delivery for its audience; what’s called “reading the room.”
Learning from my mistakes
In September 2022, I was invited to speak at the Star World Championship gala dinner—along with several class luminaries. 100 Years of Gold Stars was hot off the press, and the evening would commemorate a century of competition and camaraderie. Desperate to live up to such an honor, I agonized over and practiced what I would say even more than usual. I prefer to illustrate my talks with what we used to call a slideshow, but this time there would be no pictures up on a screen as the primary focus: just me, a microphone, and a shiny trophy, standing before an audience of larger-than-life sailors.
I prepared as best I could. But once the evening got underway, watching the other speakers nail their remarks—especially 1945 World champion Malin Burnham—made it clear that my prepared speech was way too “deep in the weeds” for the increasingly boisterous celebration.
I’m not great at improvisation, and I was still searching for some sort of “executive summary” when, minutes before I was due to take over the microphone, the evening’s host asked me to “keep it really short, because we’re running behind.”
The combination of my own last-minute mental gymnastics and the stress of that offhand request shortened my talk to about . . . thirty seconds. I can’t even remember what I said, and I’m sure that it satisfied no one—except perhaps the harried host. The next day, several people remarked that “I wish you’d talked longer.” (Probably the only kind comment they could think of.)
After I slunk back to my table and attempted to drown my mortification in another glass of wine, a friend belatedly suggested what would’ve been the perfect focus: Share how much fun I’d had writing the book. Damn! And driving home that night, still cringing, I of course hit on a pitch-perfect opener. Double damn!
So, if I ever get another chance to speak to such an impressive roomful of well-lubricated champions, I’ll begin with a remark that anyone who’s been to a regatta trophy presentation will recognize as hilariously out of place: “I’d like to thank the Race Committee . . . .”
In hindsight, it’s quite obvious that passion alone didn’t make me worth listening to on that special evening—because that tent was full of even more passionate world-class sailors. What would’ve been far more memorable was to explain how lucky I felt to be the one to wrestle all of their stories into one share-worthy book. Lesson learned: bring your passion, but also read the room!
(If you’re curious about that abandoned speech, I adapted it into a blog post.)
My best presentation? Perhaps predictably, I name the most recent. I could talk into next week about Finding The Heart of Hound (what to leave in, what we had to take out). So if you need a passionate presenter for your yacht club or book club or any group interested in Where Books Meet Boats, drop me an email. I promise to show up with all six books, share some of the excellent photos we included—AND read the room.
Thanks for reading, and see you next Thursday.