writing | thinkit creative

How to create a presentation that doesn’t suck

By Patrick Gant

Most presentations suck.

They go on too long. The speaker’s compelling idea gets buried in a lot of noise. They make it feel like work for the audience to follow along. And we quickly forget what was said.

And yet some presentations don’t suck. Instead, they persuade. Some do this despite the fact that they’re long and packed with details. We remember what was said.

So why does that happen?

As someone who holds a lot of workshops and teaches what I know, I spend time studying what works well, based on the research and field work of people who are masters at their craft.

There are ten take-aways I’ve learned that you can apply to any presentation to make it connect better wth your audience.

All great stories are about structure

Even when presenting an idea, you are telling a story. Writer Steven Pressfield says it best: “the arc of the hero is a structure that is at the heart of every story.” That means every story we tell needs to define a problem, show a solution and then show what we learn by applying that solution. As a speechwriter, that’s at the core of every keynote I work on. It applies just as much to how you present your work. In your introduction, show your audience what they’re going to see in your talk and refer back to it as you move from point to point. If you don’t have structure, your presentation is going to suck.

Know your goals

The goal is not to make people know things. You can’t make people do anything. All you can do is persuade. Harvard’s Stephen Kosslyn, a well known cognitive neuroscientist, wrote what I consider an essential speaker’s guide on presentation clarity. He points out every presentation has three goals: earn an audience’s attention, keep that attention, and make it easy for people to both understand and remember what you talked about. If you miss any of these goals, your presentation will suck.

Slides don’t tell your story: you do

Your slides are designed to do two things: help your audience situate themselves in your story, and hold their attention. They are not your speaking notes or your TelePrompTer. In fact, they’re not for you at all. They are for your audience. If you find yourself reading from your slides, your presentation will suck.

Busy slides defeat your purpose

Busy slides either get read at the expense of listening or they get ignored. Here’s why. People can read faster than they can listen. So if you cram all your facts on your slides (and if it’s legible), your audience will read them. And they won’t listen to you while they do this, which raises questions why they’re there in the first place. Don’t do that. Treat each slide as the bare minimum of the point you’re driving at in that segment of your talk. Busy slides are the Batman signal of a presentation that’s going to suck.

Bullets kill attention

This point is a matter of opinion, but it’s an informed one based on what I see that works in the marketplace. Don’t use bulleted lists on slides. Bullets are used in long reports and in articles to compress ideas to keep a reader reading. But presentations aren’t documents. They are talks designed to hold your audience’s attention while you communicate persuasively. Even if you do decide to use bullets, heed the advice of Garr Reynolds in Presentation Zen: “people will tire quickly…if several slides of bullets lists are shown, so use them with caution.”

Pictures do more than words

Reynolds’s book on presentation design has a terrific section that illustrates the power of visuals to complement your message. He also shows how easy it is to undermine that power by trying to convey too much information on a slide by adding text and data. He describes it as a Signal to Noise ratio. The harder it is for your audience to understand the difference between one data point and another, the greater the likelihood your presentation is going to suck.

Don’t report numbers: show meaning

Behavioural science tells us there are two kinds of learners: visual-driven and data-driven ones. Even the latter group get frustrated and bored if all you do it use the “spray and pray” approach to reporting on a series of complicated facts. Stop making it feel like work to understand the point you are driving at. If you are showing a bar chart with five data points on it, your focus should not be on reporting each of those five points. That’s self evident. Show the relationship between these numbers. Is there a 38% jump in activity from point#1 to point#5? That’s your story.

Understand cognitive load

It’s not that people have short attention spans. It’s that time is limited and people are busy. Presentations communicate a lot of information in a compressed period. And generations of cognitive research reaffirm that audiences have far less capacity to retain and makes sense of messages than we give them credit for. You’ve had weeks and months and even years to think through what you want to talk about. They have maybe 20 minutes. Even less if they’re tuning you out because your presentation is sucking.

You is a magic word

I talk about this point often in the context of writing for the web and other copywriting. It matters just as much in presentations. If you write a presentation that talks to an audience like they are a mass of people, your presentation will suck. Talk to them as individuals. It is a profound need of all human beings to feel seen and heard. The less likely it is that each audience member feels you are saying “I see you,” the more likely your presentation is going to suck.

Polish your closing

Admit it: most of us who write a presentation devote 98% of our time working on having a strong opening hook and making sense of our most salient points. Your conclusion tends to be an afterthought. Usually because you’ve run out of time. I like how Garr Reynolds explains this. He points out that Japanese culture speaks of “Hara Hachi Bu,” which is to eat until 80% full. I try to adopt that principle when writing a conclusion: polished and filling, but not too much.

Being a rule-breaker is a compliment, not a criticism

By Patrick Gant

I’ve been following Richard Florida’s work for a number of years since The Rise of the Creative Class. In this presentation (see below), he makes several excellent points about the growing role and value of creativity today.

With parallels to the 1930s and earlier eras of hardship, the rush of new ideas and finding a better way of doing things tends to come about most often when a society’s back is against the wall. It’s when rules get broken that people start doing interesting, daring things.

This isn’t just executive-level challenge. Real creativity—the kind that makes things, and makes them better than before—has to take root in every level of an organization.

Six ways to remain creative and passionate about getting things done

By Patrick Gant

In business, it can be hard at times to maintain an unwavering focus. Even the most accomplished pros will admit that at times distractions get the best of them. Let’s face it, you don’t have to look too hard in any office to find things that can pull you away from your work.

There’s this great piece by Tony Schwartz, author of The Way We’re Working Isn’t Working, that sums up how to best keep your eye on the ball and remain passionate about the work you do. I’ve included my own thoughts as a writer and business owner to accompany each of their six points:

Do the hardest work first.
This is one that took me a long time to fully appreciate, but it’s vital. It’s better to roll up your sleeves and do the hard work when your energy level is at its peak, plus it helps to give yourself an excuse to reward yourself later.

Practice intensely.
In my line of work this means write every day. Not all day (even writers need a break), but for a sustained period until the words start to flow. I’ve stuck to this principle for over 20 years and it is without a doubt the #1 thing that has helped me improve my craft so that I can do better work in less time.

Seek expert feedback, in intermittent doses.
I’ve had mentors throughout my entire career and each one has provided me with insights that have reshaped what I do and how I approach problems. Often it has been a much-needed shot in the arm, but at times the feedback has been tough to hear. You need both.

Take regular renewal breaks.
One of the most common mistakes to make is to assume that breaks are to be taken when you’re tired. The trouble with that approach is that it conditions you into thinking that problem solving only happens in the office when you’re not on break. Go for a short walk during the day, or even just put on headphones for a bit and listen to a podcast or a song or two. Some of my best ideas and most comprehensive solutions to problems have come to me while I was doing something other than work.

Ritualize practice.
This is related to the point about practicing intensely, but it deserves its own mention. As Schwartz notes: “Will and discipline are wildly overrated. As the researcher Roy Baumeister has found, none of us have very much of it.” When you make a habit of doing something, it eventually stops being a task and becomes a natural part of your day such that you don’t even have to think about why you’re doing it.

Pursue what you love.
Sounds trite, but really it isn’t. Doing what you love is really about finding something you give a damn about. That’s where your ability to gain mastery over a subject can truly take hold.

What you give away like the Elvis of Punk

By Patrick Gant

Today, the business of being creative is a lot like the way things used to be in the making of punk music.

Behind what you do, there’s that raw sense of purpose. You burn with mission and conviction. Your work comes from that same Do-It-Yourself ethos that gave early punk acts the verve to plug-in and play from the heart.

“(It) remains one of punk’s singular achievements,” writes Warren Kinsella in his excellent book Fury’s Hour: A (Sort of) Punk Manifesto “It hasn’t been co-opted or compromised. Do It Yourself and change yourself. Change everything.”

It remains a pretty great way of putting a nice big dent in the universe.

But take it from Iggy Pop, the true Elvis of Punk: you also need to pay very careful attention to what you’re giving away.

Especially to what gets done for free.

“When it comes to art,” he says, “money is an unimportant detail.” But he also cautions “it just happens to be a huge, unimportant detail.”

There are two kinds of ways that work gets done for free.

The first is when you offer people something and don’t expect something in exchange (which otherwise typically takes the form of financial compensation).

This includes pro bono work, volunteering your time for a cause, or even in generating what some like to call content (but really it’s something more meaningful…it’s your material that you use to build your platform online). It also includes this post and my newsletter (hey have you signed up yet?)

There are many reasons why you might choose to do this, just like those early-era punk rock pioneers who cut their own recordings and sometimes even gave them away.

Whether as a gift, as a donation, or to serve some strategic end to your business or your career, what matters most is that it’s your call.

You own that choice.

The second way that work gets done for free is the one you have to watch out for.

That’s where the other party–be it a client, a prospect, or someone who says they dig what you do–expects you to work for nothing.

It often includes this classic invitation: “do the work and then I’ll pay you if I decide it’s any good.” This is what’s known as working for spec.

It’s commonplace. But that doesn’t mean it’s something you should do.

Recognize what compels most people to agree to such terms: fear. For example: “If I say no, I might miss my big break.”

This is one of the great lies that gets told by talented people who frankly would know better if they paid more attention to honing their craft than to what others are prepared to pay for to own it.

In a wider sense–if you include working for next to nothing in that equation–it’s a mistake that used to be perpetuated in the record industry by a surprisingly high number of artists.

And that includes Iggy Pop: “If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets.”

That’s coming from a guy who has 20 records under his belt.

Being a professional starts by treating what you do as something of intrinsic value. Emphasis on intrinsic, as in it has a quality that is inherent, not assigned by outside forces.

Don’t ask the market “is this any good?”

Don’t ask “how much will you pay for this?”

Figure out what’s the problem the market has that you can solve with your work.

It does have real problems. You can very much solve those problems.

Be a punk with your talent but don’t let your talent get punked.

There are still many good reasons to engage that DIY spirit and to be generous with your talents and share what you know. Just make sure you do it with your eyes wide open.

Here are three tests that I use, and that you can apply to your work when deciding whether you want to give something away.

1) Whose idea is it to give it away?

Ask yourself: whose idea is it that I do this work for free (or for next-to-free)? If it’s yours, fine. But if the request originates elsewhere, proceed with caution. Yes, there are cases where this is entirely valid, particularly where volunteer work is concerned. But those are exceptions. Know the difference.

2) Who decides the value of your work?

Never make it someone else’s job to assign the value of your work. When you do this, you will wind up settling for less than your worth.

That doesn’t prevent you from negotiating on price and on what you will provide in exchange for an agreed upon price. Do not confuse that with the value of the work itself.

Even work that you choose to give away for free has an intrinsic value. But if you don’t know what that is, then how can you expect others to treat your efforts or your product the way you want it to be treated?

3) Who owns your idea?

No, I am not going to bore you here with a discussion on intellectual property rights. Instead, I invite you to think about this little anecdote about the other Elvis. The original one. Hear me out with this.

Back in the early 1970s, a young songwriter got what she thought was her big break. Elvis Presley wanted to cover one of her songs. And then came this from his manager: ‘You know, we have a rule that Elvis doesn’t record anything unless we take half the publishing.’

She refused.

She said no to Elvis.

No to the money.

And the opportunity to get that song in front of millions of listeners.

But she retained full publishing rights to her song.

Things worked out okay for her.

Okay so that’s not a punk story for a closer.
But it ought to be.

Recognize that whatever talents you have in you–whether it’s being able to paint a masterpiece or being able to mange people or to balance a budget–these are things that lead to outputs that are uniquely yours.

You are a maker of things. Protect your right to set the value and the price of your work. Own your choices.

Be ready to say no to the real Elvis if the deal is not a good one for you.

Be generous like the Elvis of Punk.

Burn with purpose.

But learn from his experience, too.

Three for Fifteen

By Patrick Gant

I don’t know about you, but I’m not a fan of new year’s resolutions.

I tell you that upfront, knowing that it may be entirely reasonable of you to conclude by midway through this post that I’ve contradicted myself.

There are two problems with the concept of making resolutions.

First, the start a new calendar year is just an arbitrary measure of change.

And not a particularly good one at that.

Other than the change of a few digits in the calendar, not a whole lot feels new on January 1st. It bookends a week-long holiday, and takes place well after the start of winter (especially here in Ottawa).

In many ways, I’ve long felt that the real new year begins in early September. Summer fades. School resumes.

There is a noticeable switching of gears at work. Having said that, I would get funny looks from people if I wished them a happy new year around Labour Day weekend. So I keep that to myself. Probably for best.

Then there is the second problem: resolutions tend to be “to do” lists: vague promises we make to ourselves to take action, and then fail on the execution of the task.

I could talk at length about that. But I’m not going to.
Sometimes you have to look at the pattern of decisions you make in life–even the ones that are rooted in deep conviction–and ask yourself if maybe it’s time to make a different choice.

So I’m going to try something different.

My good friend, Chris Brogan, started an interesting meme a few years ago in which he picks three words and works hard to make them the central focus of the calendar year ahead.

What I like about his exercise is that instead of generating yet another to do list, it’s a snapshot of ideas. In other words, it’s a to be list.

With that in mind, here are my three ideas for 2015.

1) Chatai Hatou

This is a kissaten, a traditional Japanese tearoom and coffee house located on an almost hidden side street in Tokyo’s Shibuya district. It has survived the onslaught of Western coffee chains, fast food outlets and even the grinding hardships of decades-long stagflation in the Japanese economy.

Still, it teems with customers.

The owners of this humble, enduring shop did not react to changing market conditions. They did not resort to making a cheaper product. Nor did they move to a better location.

In fact, nothing about Chatai Hatou has changed in any meaningful way in over 25 years.

Instead they remain focused on two things that matter to them and to their customers: patience and discipline.

Order a pour-over coffee here and you are treated to a 20-minute ritual that you cannot experience anywhere else. As one writer describes it: “the coffee is prepared with such intensity and grace that it feels as if time has stopped.”

The owners of this kissaten made a choice. They said no to chasing the easy money of delivering a commodity to a large audience. They are as selective as the customers they serve, and remain dedicated to creating something memorable and meaningful for that select group of people. I like that idea a lot.

Okay so you might be thinking, “Hey, Pat, that’s a swell start to your list…but it’s two words.”

Well I’m a bit of contrarian. And if you say it fast, it sounds like one fancy word.

2) Paulinus

Very few facts about Paulinus have resisted the wear of time. We know that somewhere around 50 AD, he took on responsibility for managing Rome’s grain supply, so he was a person of considerable authority in his time. He may also have been a near relative of Seneca, the great stoic thinker. And Seneca thought enough of him to write him a letter, containing advice that has survived the ages.

He says ‘Dear Paulinus’ (and I am paraphrasing) ‘there is a far worse thing we can do in life than to be bitter about how short it is. It is not that we have a short life but that we waste a lot of it.’

There are two reasons I share this.

First, I like to think that Paulinus took Seneca’s wise advice to heart. We have no way of know that for sure, of course.

But 2,000 year old advice doesn’t survive by accident.

The work we do and the choices we make: this is what gives our lives definition. It’s what survives.

Just as important, Paulinus reminds us of another smart bit of advice, that we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with. Being choosy about whom we break bread with has a way of shaping our choices, our thinking and even the opportunities we create for ourselves.

Most of us can’t be a Seneca, but we each can be a Paulinus if we want to.

3) Thompson

Beware faulty definitions of living well.

These are most often found in the assumption that we have in the need to grow larger and to accumulate material things.

Experience has taught me that those are pointless pursuits because they only measure in units of more.

Never satisficing. Only collecting.

On that point, I’m reminded that Hunter S. Thompson was just 20 years old when he wrote this deeply insightful letter to a friend who was looking for some direction.

My favourite part of Thompson’s advice: “look for a way of life. Decide how you want to live and then see what you can do to make a living within that way of life.”

It is easy to become directionless and to become a collector of things, rather than a seeker of experience and wisdom. I remind myself of this–and will do so again as often as I need to in 2015.

In finding a way, I find The Way.

I hope you do too, in the manner that means the most to you.