Presenting Is Hard.

As in, intellectually, socially and entrepreneurially difficult.

First, there’s the audience problem—who are they, really, and can you really know what they’re after in advance? Then there’s the issue of structure—how do you create an engaging narrative that educates and entertains while upholding your reputation? And then you’ve got Your Own Personality to contend with—what do you do with your lazy eye? Your habit of dropping “likes” on stage? Your shaky command of keynote?

Outlook is unclear. If you’ve not purchased special speaker training (you know who you are, shiny edu-tainers), presenting is one of those nebulous nutcrackers you’re forced to learn by trial. And I’ll tell you, learning by trial smarts something fierce.

Example: I did quite a lot of research before my most recent presentation at MIX10, but nothing was as educational as getting on stage with umpteen hours of practice and buckets of notes, only to watch my thesis slip away like so many wet sand dollars.

The real problem is, giving a presentation is like raising a child. What’s Johnny going to be like one-third of the way in? Two-thirds? Don’t fool yourself, Type A Annie—there’s only so much you can control.

Enough, though. My point here is to inspire, not terrify. Let’s look at some real-life SXSW and MIX10 case studies that illustrate what I’ve recently learned about presenting well.

Start With a Story.

Leave it to Kristina Halvorson to flawlessly content strategize a presentation. In Content Strategy FTW, she struck a perfect balance between entertainment, education and inspiration. She knew just when to pause, just when to invoke audience participation and just when to get serious.

She also started with a story (about Pixar’s WALL-E and how he cleaned up the world’s trash) that served as a grounding metaphor for content strategy. If we didn’t already, we automatically knew what content strategy is (a way of cleaning up the internet’s trash), and why we should care.

Lesson: In the able hands of an expert, a good story grounds a presentation and captivates your audience in the first two minutes.

Drive It Like You Stole It.

Nobody knows how to follow his comedic instinct quite like Kenny Meyers, Virb developer and ExpressionEngine master. Did he rehearse the call-and-response “Ryan’s….Mom” bit in ExpressionEngine 2: Total Domination, or did he wing it? It doesn’t matter. Mr. Meyers rocked the mic and let his light shine through—resulting in what was likely the only hilarious, knee-slapping discussion about creating and assigning forms to a channel to have ever been unleashed on the public.

Lesson: Don’t be afraid of your sense of humor. If things get quiet, make a your-mom joke. It helps if Ryan Irelan, Jenn Lukas, Mark Huot and Brian Warren are also on the panel.

Read Kenny’s version of the story, here.

Let Zeldman Moderate.

Probably not possible for everyone, but my point is this: Next time you present, get someone clever, undaunted by controversy and comfortable on his/her feet to moderate your discussion. Allow this person to interject, wrangle the conversation and tie loose threads together when necessary. Bonus points if said moderator is the godfather of web design and invites the brightest folks in the industry (Erin Kissane, Mandy Brown, Lisa Houlton, & Paul Ford) onto the panel.

Lesson: Fame never hurts.

Know Your Sh*t

Chris Fahey is part kindly professor, part savvy businessman-designer, and it shows. His Reinvent the Wheel, Sketching Your Own IA Process was one of the most informative and well-crafted presentations I saw at SXSW. Did I leave feeling humbled by his process and empowered to better my own? Yes indeed.

Lesson: A slice of rigorous thinking and a heaping plateful of experience will take you far on stage.

Break Up The Narrative With Dog Pictures

Nishant Kothary’s Elephant In the Room, about how to deal with humans in the design process, was one of the highest-rated panels at MIX—and not just because Nishant’s a shrewd manager and excellent speaker, of course. Surely, his strategically placed weimeraner pics had something to do with the preso’s runaway success?

Lesson: Refer to “Know Your Sh*t” and “Start With a Story.” Nishant combined the best of both. Wiggity!

More Specific Advice

Prepare. Just because you can’t guarantee your kid will be a doctor, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t help him with his homework. Same goes for panels & presos! Be sure to research your audience, create a structure and know your talking points well in advance. Those stern emails from the conference organizers, letting you know it’s very very very very important to prepare? They weren’t just marmish—they were right.

Meet Your Panelists. I got drunk with my SXSW panelists (Erin Anderson, Ian Alexander & Dan Maccarone) in a hotel lobby the night before. We talked boxing, Prince’s conversion experience, and became fast friends. Turned out my panelists were wicked smart and funny. In fact, my panelists can beat up your panelists. Knowing each other made us far more comfortable on stage the next day.

Invoke Body Language. Watching the video of my presentation for MIX, I realized I sounded far more interesting when I was lightly gesticulating. If you don’t know what I mean by lightly gesticulating, feast your eyes on Gloria Steinem’s hands. They mesmerize.

Reduce Slides. One-hundred and twenty-some-odd slides in, I was exhausted. Next time, I will use more pictures, not just sentences, and tarry over individual slides for more than 30 seconds.

Metaphor Beats Exposition. In presenting as in writing, metaphors win—they show instead of tell, and entertain without slapstick. Next time, instead of being so literal with bulleted lists and points-to-cover, I will use metaphors to explain my points.

Dive Like a Porpoise (Sting Like a Bee). In college, Matt had a professor who always said “The text is… porpoising! Porpoising in and out of ideas!” when referring to an author who could weave various narratives together in a story. When presenting, think of yourself as happy little porpoise, at once diving into an idea, then jumping up out of it and on to something lighter, then diving back down into that same idea again. Weave in and out until your thesis is a cat’s cradle.

The End.