speechwriters | Writing Boots

In my talks to speechwriters and other communicators who support leaders, I tell them there are basically two kinds of clients in any give c-suite: clients who value communication and clients who don't. "You want to work only with clients who do," I tell them, assuring them good clients are out there.

It's an oversimplification of course. So I thought I'd flesh it out a little; maybe you can help. (Pardon my use of the universal "she"; it's payback time.)

A good communication client thinks she got ahead in the world by making persuasive arguments.

A bad client thinks she got ahead by avoiding saying the stupid thing.

A good client doesn't try to be perfect, but has faith that people will get the right impression from an amalgam of a million honest words and a thousand well-intended actions.

A bad client knows that her actions speak loudly, but doesn't know what her actions say. Meanwhile, she worries that one false word in one speech will ruin her reputation forever.

A good client worries about the thrust of the message, lets others handle the details. "Tell me where you want me?"

A bad client deflates the thrust of the message by focusing on a thousand details. "You want me to do what?"

A good client is tough: "You can do better."

A bad client is tough: "It still isn't right."

A good client is experienced enough to know a sharp communicator when he or she sees one.

A bad client assumes all communicators are weak-minded space cadets, and unfortunately manages to gather plenty of evidence for her point of view.

A good client knows communication is hard, and acknowledges it.

A bad client knows communication is hard, and pretends it's easy.

A good client remembers what she wanted to know when she was a middle manager.

A bad client wonders, "If I were an employee, what would I want to hear?"

A good client assumes that her audience knows most of what she knows, and struggles to figure how she can use her unique vantage point to offer them a useful perspective.

A bad client assumes her audience doesn't know half of what she knows, and struggles to figure out what she can say that they will be able to grasp.

A good client wants to share ideas.

A bad client wants to make impressions.

If you have a bad client, look for a good client—either inside the organization or outside. And if you have a good client, serve her well and help her win.

I'll hope to regale you in other posts with yarns and insights gathered during a happy week I spent in Phoenix last week. I was there connecting with my speechwriting peeps at a conference, and also my colleagues at McMurry, the company that publishes Vital Speeches of the Day.

After the "speechwriting jam session" I delivered at the conference, a number of people came up and told me the session had given them goosebumps or made them cry. Same here, I told them. Though I'd seen or read these speech excerpts dozens of times before, being able to share them with other communicators was emotional for me too.

Many of the discussions with the speechwriters and with my McMurry mates centered on the new community that's growing around the old magazine, Vital Speeches.

I thought of that group of speech geeks, and my happy position as a facilitator and sometime sparker of these conversations, as I read another anachronistic magazine on the flight home.

Ring Magazine was one thing half a century ago, when boxing was still a major American sport. Now that boxing is despised in many quarters and ignored in most others, it may come as a surprise that Ring still comes out every month. What surprised me, a fight fan but not a fight man, was how wonderful a read Ring still is.

In fact, it prompted me to ask and answer a pretty old question:

What is a great read?

A great read is when you intend to flip through something but find yourself frustrated by frequent stops, because you never see an article that you ought to be interested in. Quite the opposite: You notice the woman in the seat next to you is looking scornfully at the gruesome knockout photo you've been staring at for a minute, like it's pornography.

"I know," you want to hasten to tell her. "It's really awful, isn't it?"

I guess it's natural to feel a little embarrassed when we find ourselves following our real fascinations, rather than studying the things we really ought to care about.

That's the feeling I want my Vital Speeches pals to have when they go to VSOTD.com and its various social media forums. And it's the feeling I want Writing Boots readers to have when they're here.

The world tells communicators they have to think like business people, that the results are all that matters, that strategy trumps tactics, that language is less important than money.

We accept what we have to of all that, in order to get along out there.

But it's not how we feel.

And fresh off this good trip, I'm feeling privileged to make my living and spend my time creating places for us communication tramps to talk about what is important to us—human beings, and how they talk to each other—no matter what anyone else thinks.

Good client, bad client: How to know the difference

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