Made My Day...

I received one of the best compliments today that I've ever been given. It absolutely made my day.

I went to a Toastmasters meeting. I used to belong, years ago, and decided with my teaching and writing on public speaking, it would be a good time to re-immerse myself.

The meeting was at noon. The second speaker was a young man named Kevin. When he began his speech, my thought was he was new to speaking. Then I didn't have another thought until the end of his speech. I was too busy being memorized and astounded by the speech this man delivered.

His topic was "Sincerity" and Kevin delivered a speech called "I was afraid," in which he proceeded to list all the things he (and all of us) are afraid of: measuring up, making our families proud of us, being accepted, hoping we fit in at work, making good choices, managing money, driving away our personal demons.

I wish I could have taped Kevin's speech to show to my public speaking classes because it was the perfect example of what I tell them over and over: You don't have to be a "perfect" speaker. You just have to connect with your audience and be real with us.

Kevin was real. His eye contact could have been better and he swayed a little too much but it didn't matter. He riveted every audience member with his depth and openness. He was himself during his speech, through and through, and that is what any audience member is seeking. A real person talking about things that matter to them.

Once the meeting ended I approached Kevin. "I loved your speech," I said. "It was fantastic."

He thanked me then said, "Do you write articles for the News & Record?" (our local paper)

"Yes," I replied.

He smiled. "You're the reason I'm here! I read one of your articles on public speaking and Toastmasters and that's why I decided to check it out and join."

Hel-lo! How awesome was it to hear that? As writers we so rarely get feedback or hear anything about our work once it's published. I cherish the fact that this man who gave this wonderful speech that spoke to me said I was the one who got him there.

It was a a very, very good day.

Excellence On Demand

Here's my favorite part of being a writer: having to be creative on demand.

I'm writing a speech for a company and have been staring at my computer like a dullard for the last two hours. I'm trying to come up with a genius way of explaining a SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats) analysis that will both engage and amaze an audience.

So far, nothing.

I've learned not to panic. It will come, usually at some inopportune time like when I'm in the shower far away from pen and paper or when I'm half asleep. I'd rather have the shower. When I'm half asleep I always manage to convince myself I'll remember the solution I thought of and then I wake up the next morning and find all I remember is that I had a great solution, but retain no clue as to what it might have been. This has happened more times than I care to recall. I've probably lost my chance at winning the Nobel prize because I didn't feel like sitting up and turning on the light.

My problem is I'm not patient. I want the answer to my problem NOW so I can finish the speech, e-mail it off, and move in a nice linear fashion to the next item on my never-ending "to do" list. (In case you can't tell, I'm a big fan of checkmarks).

It's so odd I'm a writer. I've never thought of myself as a creative person. I can't sing, draw, act, paint, sculpture, dance, or some days even walk in a straight line. Some of my writer friends are what I call the dreamy variety. That means they sit in front of me and sip coffee out of big mugs and wear far-off expressions and say things like, "If I didn't write, I'd die! It's like the words are in my blood and I just have to get them out on paper. I have no control--they just come flowing out of me."

Yes. I'd like to beat these people with a sharp stick.

I rarely have that feeling that the words must come pouring out of me. My feeling is usually more one of, "I conned my husband into letting me stay home and work as a writer so perhaps I should scribble something down to at least make it look like I'm trying."

Writing for me is like exercise. I don't enjoy doing it, but I LOVE the feeling when I'm done. I think that's why I'll make it as a writer. I have a stick-to-it-ness that I think is necessary for the craft. I enjoy the challenge.

It's like being a vegetarian. I don't eat meat because I think it's insane the cruelty we subject animals to before we eat them, and I really don't think eating semi-tortured animal meat can be good for your body. But aside from the moral issue, there is also a big ego part of me that likes being vegetarian because it's something not everyone can do. Some people just don't have the willpower for it and I do and I LIKE that feeling.

That's how it is with writing. I may not be the fastest or the most creative but I DO it, and a lot of people out there claiming they want to be writers don't have the willpower for it.

All that being said and done, if anyone out there has any good ideas on how to talk about a SWOT analysis, how about e-mailing me? If I don't get back to you right away, it's because I'm sleeping or in the shower.

A Writer Without Words?

I teach public speaking workshops. Love doing it. Love showing people that public speaking doesn't mean you have to be this robot clone who never falters or makes a mistake, but that it's more about being a real person with real ideas and just talking to people like you were having coffee with a friend.

Which is a long route to saying that I'm comfortable speaking in public, I'm pretty quick on my feet, questions don't bother me and, if I may tout my own horn, I'm a pretty funny person. Just ask my husband. (As if he'd dare to say otherwise).

When I decided to sign up for a 4-week improv comedy workshop, I thought it would be fun.  I'd step a teensy bit outside my comfort zone, learn some new skills, maybe find new material to bring to my public speaking classes. Cool.

So it was nothing short of a full-blown ego-jolt to discover that not only am I not funny at improv, I completely and totally no-holds-barred suck at it.

I am okay with the sucking and will continue the classes regardless. But get this. One of the first exercises we had to do was a simply rhyming game. Rhymes. I'm a writer. I work with words for a living. This should not present a challenge.

HA! The game was you had to sing--very fast--the da-do-run-run song. I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still. Da-do-da-run-run, da-do-run-run.

Only you inserted a one syllable name . I met him on a Monday and his name was Ted. Da-do-da-run-run, da-do-run-run. Now you kept rhyming. He had a cold so he went to bed. da-do-da-run-run, da-do-run-run.

Then, if it was your turn in line, you were screwed b/c you had to come up with 3 rhymes right in a row (again, singing at breakneck speed). So the group would say, manamana, and then you'd have to come up with the rhymes. So it looks like this:

Group: Manamana

You: His face turned red

Group: Manamana

You: And his fingers bled

Group: Manamana

You: So we left him for dead

Everyone: da-do-da-run-run, da-do-run-run

Then the next person goes and you keep going until people can't come up with any more rhymes.

I know what you're thinking. It looks easy (and very classy). IT'S NOT. But still, I can't even believe that when my turn came I blanked on any word in the English language that might rhyme with "Bill." Pill, chill, thrill, frill, dill, kill, mill, ....see, I can do it now. But apparently my brain goes into lockdown under pressure. But how heartening to see that the stoned-out druggie performing next to me can come up with eighty rhymes to go with "Ann" and I can't think of one. Makes me want to go home and fling my laptop out the window.

But first I need to get ready for next week's class. I'm looking up all words that rhyme with one syllable names - Ed, Ann, Pam, Ted, Bill, Trish...

Who said comedy was fun?

Manamana.

Happy New Year

I don't think January 1st should count as part of the new year. Here's why.

All of us sit around in the last dregs of December and vow to friends, family, and pets that this is the year we get our act together. We will lose the weight, get organized, ask for those blond highlights, work out every hour on the hour until we lose those 15 lbs, and tighten, tone, and trim every bit of unproductive behavior and negative thinking patterns from our being.

Then we wake up on January 1st.

We wake up after a night of being up way past our bedtimes and stuffing down what we swear is the last sugar-laden high-carb mouthfuls that will pass through our lips for the next 365 days. Now we're supposed to bounce out of bed after a night of revelry and start the new me program.

We're pretty much doomed from the start.

That's why January 1st doesn't count in my book. This morning I slept in, then we polished off the leftover Moravian sugar cake (worth every pound on the hips....soooo good!), then put down the Christmas decorations. I did do some yoga, which is on my list of intentions for the new year, then we ate lunch and now we're getting ready to go hike around our mountain property. I'll start all that "new me" stuff on Monday.

I'm a big fan of starting things on Monday. My husband is one of those people that if he decides he needs to watch what he eats, he sets the bowl of chips aside immediately. Me, I prefer the fresh start of a new day, a new week, a new year. There's something about that fresh start that sings out THIS time, I will win!

Thought I'd share some New Years Goals. Mine are:

• Don't offer advice unless first asked for it. (There is a good chance this goal only will put me in an early grave. And this blog doesn't count. If you're coming here, it's because you obviously crave my vast wisdom.)

• Either convince a publisher to publish or self-publish my collection of funny cat stories. Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover's Soul will be released in October 2005. 5 of my stories have made it to the finals. Only 140 stories make it to the finals out of the thousands of entries received, so I'm pretty pleased. I also think it's a good indication these stories will sell.

• Publish a book on public speaking. I love teaching my workshops and classes, and the more research I do on this topic, the more excited I am. Still considering several different ways to niche the book, but I think I'll have an e-book out by years end.

• Creative writing (novels, short stories) 2 hours each morning.

• Do not check e-mail until AFTER my morning writing is complete. I must face up to being an e-mail addict. "Hello, my name is Dena, and I abuse e-mail." "Hi, Dena."

These are not "resolutions" per se, but there are always the old standbys of workout more and eat healthier. The trick is going to be finding a new or varied workout routine. I love Billy Blanks, but I don't think I can face another Tae-bo video anytime soon. And even my old favorite the treadmill holds less appeal.

Anyway, those are things to worry about on Monday. For now, I'm going to enjoy the rest of the weekend. Happy New Year to everyone!