When I wrote that I’ve been immersed in the public speaking world lately, I wasn’t kidding. I’ll say it again- I love me a great talk! So you can imagine my surprise and delight upon discovering I was one of the lucky few to score a ticket to hear bestselling author, Seth Godin speak for FREE at this month’s Creative Morning at NYU last week.

(In case you don’t know who Seth Godin is… google him. He’s, like Zeus from which all marketers were spawned. He also has a reputation for being one of the nicest guys in town)

At the venue, Creative Mornings founder and mastermind, Tina Roth Eisenberg (an accomplished public speaker herself) introduced Seth as “one of the best speakers I’ve ever seen.”

No pressure.

Fortunately, Seth delivered the goods.

If you ever have the opportunity to hear Seth speak, do it! But just in case that’s down the road a ways, I’ve compiled a few take-aways from watching the man, the myth, the legend…

12 Steps To Becoming A Great Public Speaker A La Seth Godin:

Lead with something relatable and or laughable. Seth started off by asking the audience to sing the Alphabet song and tying that in with his overall theme of the talk. This helps everyone relax and immediately connect.

Thank your host. Treat them like you’re guest in their house. Gratitude is a mark of awareness, not weakness.

Know your audience. You can reuse your talk over and over, but substitute your examples and stories to relate to the interests of your audience.

Make eye contact. Important! Eye contact keeps the audience engaged and the speaker present.

Tell Stories/Offer Specific Examples. As Seth later pointed out during a Q&A:  ”Stories work when they resonate with what we believe/know/understand.”

Avoid pitching. Seth never once told us to buy anything. He didn’t have to. Because when you give a great speech the audience will practically beg you for more.

Mention other people/companies/businesses in your field. This has two benefits: 1. Further establishes you as an expert in your field. 2. Displays confidence and that aren’t afraid of competition. NOTE: Only mention others in a positive light.

“Own” the stage. Seth looked comfortable on stage because he moved around, like, you know, people do in real life. In the photo above you’ll notice he isn’t standing parallel to the audience (creating a speaker vs audience mentality) but turned slightly as a way of inviting the audience in.

Have a definite point of view. Seth did not mince words. And he avoided sentences that started with “I think” or “I feel.” If you’re saying it on stage, the audience already knows what you’re saying matters to you. (The goal is to make it matter to them.)

Throw in a good quote. Preferably not one that’s been used to death. Seth used this one from Leonard Bernstein: “I’m no longer quite sure what the question is, but I do know that the answer is YES.” Insightful, funny, memorable.

Offer practical/immediate/actionable advice. If you only leave your audience with platitudes, they’ll quickly forget everything you said. Seth asked specific questions (How do you want your customers to change?), recommended specific books/companies/websites to check out, and presented each idea as actions (ie Demand responsibility… Reflect credit but embrace blame… Tell stories that… etc).

Of course, this is just a start when it comes to becoming “one of the best public speakers” around, but it doesn’t hurt to learn from the top!

A huge thank you to Tina and her crew for bringing insightful and inspiring speakers to Creative Mornings.

Have you seen Seth or another great speaker? What did you love about his/her talk? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!

P.S. Due to travels, I now have only have 2 DAYS in NYC for in-person clients until mid-June(!)Mark your calendars for May 20th and 21st if you want one-on-one, in-person coaching to get your next talk up to speed. Sessions last an hour (unless you request more) and you are guaranteed to leave feeling more confident and prepared for your next public speaking engagement, or I’ll refund your money. Seriously.

Contact me

Public Speaking…

I’ve been both doing and watching a lot more of it lately.

And it’s fascinating.

And it reminds me a a lot of auditioning.

Which is funny considering once you’re speaking to an audience you already have the gig. You’re not vying for it. You don’t actually have to prove anything.

And yet it sure feels like you’re under the microscope when you’re up on that stage. It’s so easy to feel judged when a sea of faces is staring up at you, waiting for you to say something that will enlighten or at least entertain.

As an actor, you walk into the audition room and there’s a casting director behind the desk, with your headshot and resume in his/her hand, and the pressure to perform is ON. Your mind races. Your palms sweat. Your knees shake. A thousand thoughts flood your brain at once.

In fact, the inner monologue looks a lot like this moment as performed by the uber-talented Sheree Renee Scott from the off-Broadway show, Last Five Years (Watch through 3:18):

So you perform your scene or your monologue or your song, all the while convinced that you don’t belong there, and wishing more than anything that your two-minutes of torture would conclude so you don’t take up any more of the casting director’s time.

But there’s a fault in that logic.

The truth is the casting director is actually on your side. He/she wants, sometimes desperately so (depending on how the casting process is going thus far), for you to be the one. At the very least, they want valid candidates to show the director and producers who will also be praying to the thespian gods for you to be what they’re looking for.

The same goes for speaking in public.

The audience is rooting for you.

Aha!

Imagine what would the experience be like and how your performance would be altered if you truly believed that you belonged on that stage? What if you could be more in the moment because you were confident that you’ve done your homework, you’ve fully shown up, and that everything else was actually out of your control?

I recently spoke at event led by NY Times best seller and business strategist, Michael Port. A former actor, Port totally understands the plight of the public speaker. As I soon discovered, he instructs his course participants to give the speaker a standing ovation upon being introduced to the stage! I won’t lie- that made me feel like a million bucks! Wow! They like me, just because I’ve shown up! They trust that I belong on that stage- and hey- they’re right!

Michael Port, Me, Derek Halpern, Matthew Kimberly on stage in Philadelphia

If you have an opportunity to have yourself or your work seen by an audience, it can be tempting to go to the dark side and convince yourself of all the reasons you shouldn’t be there. It’s easy to assume the people in the seats are wishing you ill. Fight the urge to go down the rabbit hole of me vs them mentality. You don’t need to picture them in their underwear (Such terrible advice! Who wants yet another thing to think about?).  You just need to truly believe the audience is on your side.

Because they are.

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I’ve been receiving an influx of requests from people who have public speaking gigs coming up and want to polish their presentation.

Yay for better public speaking gigs!

My team and I are working on updating the Services page to better explain the consulting options available, but in the meantime I’m thrilled to announce a day of one-on-one in-person public speaking sessions. Most of my public speaking services require 3-4 sessions to get you prepared, but I know that we can often benefit from a tune-up!

This Public Speaking One-On-One Intensive is for you if you:

Are in NYC on Tuesday, May 21st

Have a talk prepared (or will have one by then)

Want to polish your presentation skills

Can take direction be open to adjustments

By the end of our time together you will:

Gain confidence delivering your message

Combat nervous habits

Be more “in the moment” during your talk

Bring your own personality to your presentation

Your 60-minute one-on-one coaching session:

Value: $499

Investment: $349

Savings: $150

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There are only five sessions available! If you’re interested or have any questions please shoot me an email.

I look forward to hearing from you!

You may notice things look  a bit different around here….

That’s because Show & Tell is growing up! In less than a year she’s changed from a seed of an idea into a blossoming business.

She’s being transplanted from her place on the windowsill to the great outdoors, her roots needing more room to expand.

::

There are plenty of video production companies, on-camera coaches and bloggers who can do what I do. I’m not here to one up them  (whatever that would mean), I’m simply here to join them and the bigger conversation of helping people share their stories.

My hope is that you see something here that creates a connection, whether that connection is from my own story or a video my team and I have created for someone else… because when there is a connection between people and ideas, the possibilities expand exponentially.

An example of such a connection is that of  the masterminds behind the Show & Tell website make-over, Hannah Loaring and her boyfriend Lee. I was initially introduced to Hannah because I connected with the writing and design of her own website, Further Bound. That online connection led to a real-life friendship. Now, I truly don’t know where I (or Show & Tell) would be without her!

We’re often told not to mix business with pleasure, but working with Hannah and Lee on the design of my online home has been a pleasure, to say the least. The excitement that comes when someone intrinsically understands you and can help you better express your story is electric! Hannah and Lee have lit the fuse for Show & Tell.

Wherever you are, I wish you a story that outgrows your wildest dreams, and is fueled by the best and brightest along the way.

Thank you for sharing this dream with me.

Almost two years ago I attended a conference that included a talk wherein the audience was asked to think about a time when they felt truly alive. To my shock, one of the first images that flashed into my mind was a mini adventure from my time in Japan.

As I mentioned last week, my cast-mates and I worked six days a week for nine months, but on the seventh day we got to rest. For many, this meant going to the water park or to nearby Sasebo or Fukuoka to go shopping.  Not one for R&R, I’d coerce anyone who’d listen to hop on a bullet train with me to a far flung city or town for an exploratory expedition.

While I greatly enjoyed those excursions, it was the journey to the sleepy island of Miyajima, off the coast of Hiroshima, that etched its way into my heart.

Ironically, the details of the adventure are fuzzy, due to the fact that my camera broke five minutes upon arrival. I found a shop that sold me an overpriced disposable camera which I used begrudgingly. (And as luck would have it, a recent search through my box of photos only turned up one photo from that day. (Pictured above).

Though the image is grainy, the feeling it conjures for me is crystal clear. 

Alone Together

I’m a rather anxious person by nature, and given the circumstances of my time in Japan, that anxiety multiplied exponentially. Riding the ferry to the island and smelling the salt water and feeling the wind in my hair I was struck with the notion, that for the first time in as long as I could remember, I was alone. No one even knows I’m here, I recall muttering to myself.

Despite (or maybe because of?) being an only child, I was terrified at the thought of being alone. I lived in dorms all four years of college. I studied abroad and traveled in packs on the weekends.  I had three roommates when I moved from my dorm room to the Santa Monica apartment on the day I graduated college. The cast in Japan lived in tight-knit quarters.

But here I was.

Being alone means hearing our own thoughts.

Listening to our inner voice feels dangerous.

When we’re alone there are fewer distractions, and depending on the time and place in our lives this can feel like blessing or a curse.

Yet on that day, when the famous floating orange torii gate first came into view and my feet stepped onto the sandy shore, instead of feeling alone, I felt inexplicably connected.

I spent the day in silence, wandering around the island, through dense forests, admiring the many ancient shrines and temples, languishing along with the roaming deer and fluttering butterflies, humming to myself like Snow White.

Stranger In A Strange Land

Miyajima has long been considered a Holy place for the Japanese.  In fact, it is extremely frowned upon to be born or die on the island. (Pregnant women are encouraged to leave the island close to their due date and the elderly are sent… elsewhere).

We come and go but the world still spins.

Though I didn’t venture to the island to worship a deity, I was struck by how profoundly spiritual the place seemed to be. A sense of peace and fluidity flooded the air.

Writing this post, brings to mind this time last year when I was alone, and exploring a temple in Chiang Mai and I came upon a sign that stated:

Time and tide wait for no man.

In Miyajima that expression is literal as the setting sun brings the tide rolling in as the last ferry of the day rolls out, leaving the torii gate to appear to be floating in the velvet ripples of the sea. For a brief moment the sky and water melt together just before sprinkles of stars begin to fill the night, as I make the journey back to the mainland.

The Word

At the conference which awakened the memory of Miyajima, the audience was then instructed to choose a word that symbolized that memory and to then write that word as a temporary tattoo on our body. I hemmed and hawed over choosing my word and was disappointed in the word I finally chose: magical. It was too woo-woo for me but I couldn’t think of anything better. Some things escape our ability to define them.

Looking back, Miyajima symbolizes the space between. The space we fill between birth and death; The choices we make; The feeling of being alone and never really alone; That everything and everyone is somehow connected; That the waiting and the doing can be one in the same.

In Greek mythology, Iris is the goddess of the sea and sky, traveling on the speed of the wind, and providing the link from the gods to humanity.

The case could be made that her home was not on Mount Olympus with the other gods, but on a small island off the coast of Japan.

Where I learned to be

alone.

The setting

FADE IN:

Tulips, canals, windmills, and cobblestone streets.

But something is amiss.

Upon closer inspection, we discover our location is not a quaint Dutch village, but somewhere in Nagasaki, Japan.

A sign emerges on our screen: Welcome to Huis Ten Bosch (Translation: House In The Forest), a brick-for-brick replica of Utrecht in the the Netherlands.

FLASHBACK:

When the Japanese economy collapsed in the late 1990s, the people could no longer afford to travel abroad. So the government brought the world to the people. Replicas of foreign cities began to spring throughout the island.

FAST FORWARD:

The hero of our story didn’t know anything about Japanese economic history in February of 2003 when she auditioned to be a singer for a “new show” conceived by the creative minds behind several Tokyo Disney productions. Truth be told, she only knew of the auditions because they were being held down the street from her call-back for a touring production of Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. That was a Friday. On Sunday while working her shift at the local bar she receives the call that she’s been cast in the touring production. Elation! An hour later, the phone rings again. She’s offered the gig in Japan. The contracts overlap.

Our hero is forced to choose.

For resume purposes, it would make more sense to take the touring production. The director/choreographer of the production is relatively well known and every casting director is familiar with the show. But our hero’s pulse races when she thinks about spending nine-months in Japan, having never been to Asia.

Always do what you’re afraid to do. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

CUT TO:

March 5th of 2003.  Our hero watches her new cast-mates sleeping on the 18-hour Japan Airlines flight while she fidgets in her seat and wonders if she made the right decision. The wheels of the plane touch down in Narita on March 7th, notably skipping an important date.

::

Finally writing this post now, almost nine years later, feels like I’m viewing the whole experience of my time in Huis Ten Bosch as one continuous wide shot. Zooming in I notice the funny details that combine to make the whole story: The Japanese businessmen who would bring me Hello Kitty shaped biscuits after each performance. The glory of the sweet ambrosia of canned Chu-Hi (a Japanese sparkling cocktail) that fueled our late night antics. The day trips to Fukuoka to go shopping at the Gap and eat at Hard Rock Cafe when we got home-sick. The weekly Japanese lessons led by our fellow cast-mate, Keiko. The feuds among cast members that come with spending every living waking hour together in close quarters.

Then of course, was the 6 days a week, 5 shows a day schedule including a unbearably corny Beatles Medley tribute, a fantastically boring acapella madrigal set, a Jump Jive extravaganza, and a nightly Big Band show.

Our Beatles Medley Tribute complete with Sgt. Pepper Ensemble

Our nightly outdoor Big Band Show

Oh, and how could I forget the parade?! Yes, I, along with my cast-mates dressed as various European townspeople (and a juggler or two),  rode floats into town every morning waving to the wide eyed and very confused Japanese guests.

Post parade shenanigans

I can laugh at it all now, but at the time, it felt like some bizarre David Lynch film.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

 To blow off steam, we did what every cast of restless thespians does: We threw themed costume parties. There was the Superhero party, the Rockstar party, the Christmas in July party, the Pimp and Ho Party… you get the idea. Thankfully digital cameras and social media hadn’t taken off then, or no one in the cast would have any hopes of running for political office based on those nights of total debauchery.

Moriah singing her face off as Janis Joplin at the Rockstar Party

An irreverent performance at the Christmas in July Party (bonus points for the use of Beatles Medley costume)

At the end of the contract my fellow cast-mate Moriah (nicknamed Momo, meaning “thigh” in Japanese) and I took a few days to travel around Tokyo. I vividly recall arriving in our hotel room with a view of the famed Tokyo Tower and jumping onto the beds with the excitement that comes with the taste of a renewed sense of freedom. A new story was just around the corner.

::

During times of intense shared experiences, we are often so in the moment that it’s only afterwards, once all the footage has been gathered and organized and the extraneous bits have been edited out, that we see how the story came together.

Now, when I find myself in moments of murkiness, without a clear vision of the next scene in the plot, I think about the times when I couldn’t find the forest through the trees and I’m comforted knowing that at some point I’ll be able to watch the ending credits and maybe, just maybe, see the whole picture, and smile.

The grand finale

If you’ve ever owned a cat you’re probably familiar with her way of showing she cares: A dead lizard or rodent left on your doorstep. As unwanted and repelling as the gift may be, there is little to be done about it. Your favorite feline is displaying her love and devotion with her sacrificial offering. There is no need to get angry with the cat. She won’t understand. She’s doing what cats do.

Unfortunately you don’t possess super human powers so you can’t return the offering because, as much as you wish you could, you can’t transform the dead to the living.

The only thing you can do is accept the circle of life and move on.

And that my friends, is how I feel about birthdays.

Well, my birthday anyway. Which, despite my best efforts, has shown up on my doorstep today.

I know I should feel grateful. I mean, of course I’m thrilled to be here. You know, on earth. And I do hope to stick around for awhile.

And I know I have much to be grateful for. The year of 32 brought plenty of new lessons. I’m so fortunate to have met incredible people and to see new places and have new experiences. A year ago I had this blog but no business to speak of and right at this moment I’m in the middle of three projects for Show & Tell Stories Productions. I give talks and lead workshops. I didn’t do that a year ago. Not to mention I have a wonderful support system of people (and a dog) in my life.

(I’ve also made plenty of of mistakes but as I’m already a bit down in the dumps about the whole birthday thing, if it’s alright with you, I’d prefer to skip that part for now.)

So what’s my problem?

After much thought, I believe it comes down to my lack of control over the inevitable. Even the actual date is frustrating. March in the northern hemisphere isn’t exactly the nicest time of year. As my grandmother was fond of reminding me every birthday: “The day you was born it rained like cats and dogs.” Looking outside my window here in Brooklyn I see grey skies and the weather calls for a wintry rain/snow mix starting this afternoon. But it’s not really winter and definitely not quite spring. March, despite it’s verbal definition, feels like limbo instead of forward progression.

Then there’s the actual age: I’m 33.

And the only association I could make with that number was that’s how old Jesus was when he died.

Great.

Nothing will make you feel like an underachiever like comparing yourself to that guy. (For the record, in addition to the whole Son-of-God thing, he is also reported as having performed 33 miracles. I would settle for performing one.)

So I did what any desperately neurotic woman in her mid(!)-30s would do.

I looked on Wikipedia.

Here are some not-so-fascinating-facts about 33:

33 is, according to the Newton scale, the temperature at which water boils.

A normal humane spine has 33 vertebrae when the bones that form the coccyx are counted individually.

33 is the atomic number of arsenic.

… Snooze.

But then I found something that resonated:

33 is the numerical equivalent of AMEN: 1+13+5+14=33

More googling brought this discovery:

AMEN means “so be it.”

I had always believed AMEN to mean something more affirming like “Hallelujah! Preach it sister!”

But the actual definition is based in acceptance, not approval.

This is an important distinction.

Thus came the aha! moment of my birthday begrudging:

Generally speaking, I don’t believe in a life of passive acceptance; at least not when we have the choice to change.

But (fortunately for the world), I’m not in charge of everything. I don’t get to call all the shots. There are some (many) things I can’t control.

Like, say, my birthday.

If the axiom is true that with age comes wisdom, then today I’ve come to the realization that a part of that wisdom stems from our ability to discern when to accept and when to fight, and the strength of character required to march on in the face of either circumstance.

Oh, and the reminder that you never know what gift might be waiting for you when you step out the door.

::

Another perk of birthdays? I get to ask for stuff like this: What words of wisdom would you offer? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below! 

Context: I took photo last year in Chiang Mai, at the Thai Freedom House, a not-for-profit community center that assists refugees from Burma and Indigenous peoples of Thailand.

Last week I celebrated President’s Day with a blog post about Lincoln, both the man and the movie. The post took a bit longer to write than anticipated, due to a slight mix-up. I love a good quote and I planned to wrap up the post with this sentiment, which, according to Google, was uttered by President Lincoln himself:

“In the end it’s not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years.”

Inspiring, no?

There was only one problem- according to my Google search Lincoln never said it. In fact, it seems unclear who did (though one popular theory is that it first appeared in an advertisement in 1947 for a book about aging by Edward J. Stieglitz.)

Even more disappointing was that Honest Abe didn’t say the next five quotes I researched that are frequently attributed to him. While I’m happy with the quote I did choose to conclude my post with, it took a solid 40 minutes of skimming through his archived speeches and letters to find something that fit the idea I was trying to convey.

I’m grateful I caught the mistake in time before posting the article, since I assume no one likes to be misquoted, alive or dead. But several months ago I erroneously attributed a quote to a life coach of sorts when the actual source was none other than Mark Twain. This was not only embarrassing once a reader kindly pointed out the error, but also made me feel like a fraud. I was angry with Goodreads for allowing the egregious mistake and at myself for not bothering to check the source. And the irony was the quote has more of an impact when we know it comes from one of the most prolific thinkers and writers of our time.

Context supports content.

Quick example:

“Words build bridges into unexplored regions.”

This quote could be written on a post-it and placed next to my computer, motivating me to write my blog post for the day.

That is, until I consider the source of the quote was Adolf Hitler.

Context matters not just in words but in life. If, for example, you dispense financial advice for a living, it matters to me not just that I’m inspired by your rhetoric, but that your actions and your experiences support, if not enhance, the message.

In this day and age when just about anyone can create a website and hang their “Open For Business” sign, its even more critical we take the responsibility to research where the advice or knowledge or know-how is coming from. Snake oil, no matter how pretty the packaging or clever the marketing is still snake oil, well intended or no.

The upside of doing our homework and of taking that extra step towards truth (or Truth as the case may be) is that what we uncover is often more powerful than the findings of our initial search.

Perhaps my favorite quote on the subject of context is this one:

“The trouble with quotes on the Internet is that you never know if they are genuine.”
~ Abraham Lincoln

“Those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.” ~ Edmund Burke

Every history teacher I had in school ominously hung a poster with that quote above the chalkboard.

While I appreciate the reminder that we can, indeed, learn from the mistakes made by those who came before us, I also believe that history provides a mirror which reflects the human condition in the present.

I wasn’t a huge fan of U.S. history in school (I circumnavigated this by participating in Model United Nations instead), but I did love watching the History Channel. Looking back, the reason is clear: I can’t remember dates to save my life. Not just historical dates, but what-I-was-doing-this-time-last-year dates. How did I ever manage before Facebook notified me of friends’ birthdays?

I digress.

The point is, in school, much of history was about memorizing facts instead of studying their significance.

Whether teaching a history lesson or selling a product for our business, if we want people to listen, we first have to offer something worth remembering. And while we typically don’t remember dates and statistics, we do remember stories.

Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I was so touched by Lincoln, the recent and much acclaimed film by Steven Spielberg.

The film is an account of a nation struggling to come together with a changing of events, but more than that, it is the story of a man. By now we’ve all learned about honest Abe, sixteenth President of the United States of America. We know he was tall. That he helped abolish slavery. That he united a nation.

In school we studied Lincoln’s accomplishments, but we didn’t really learn his story. And we certainly didn’t discover how his story could inspire our own.

Fortunately, Spielberg is a master at bringing history into the present. He shapes stories so they feel personal and relatable:

Of course, we are thrilled out of our minds by the success of Lincoln. But the truly honest response is that as a director, I always hope that an audience will find a place for themselves in our story.

A good movie sticks with us long after the credits roll. When we do like Spielberg says and “find a place” for ourselves in the story, we marinate over the characters and their struggles and triumphs.

On a personal level, Lincoln’s story inspired me with three lessons:

1. Know yourself.

Abraham Lincoln stuck with convictions even though few agreed with him. He took into account the opinions of others but he stood by his own beliefs.

2. Understand the motivation of others and react accordingly.

Abraham Lincoln couldn’t abolish slavery and unite a nation alone. Throughout entire film, Lincoln had to rally the support of others. Even better, he did so with the best tool he had- the ability to tell a good story.

3. Keep your eyes on the goal.

Abraham Lincoln had a specific cause to rally behind. This last condition is something I envy in others and struggle with finding for myself. There are lots of issues I care about, but none that feel like my life’s work. Yet when we study the people who have had the greatest impact on society and the world at large, we see the most successful have a clear mission: Mahatma Gandhi and Indian independence, Martin Luther King, Jr. and the civil rights movement, Al Gore and climate change. Obviously that’s an exceedingly abridged list. The point is, the best stories are often the ones with a focused plot.

And though we know how Lincoln’s story concludes on that fateful day in Ford’s Theater (on April 14^th, 1865 to be exact… I Googled it), perhaps the greatest lesson he left behind is that the actions we take today become tomorrow’s history:

Determine the thing that can and shall be done, and then we shall find the way.Speech in the House of Representatives (June 20th, 1848)

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What lessons have you learned from a person or time in history? Is there a favorite quote that inspires your story? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!

Next to my bed: My grandmother’s copy of “Pride & Prejudice”

Ahh Valentine’s Day. Love it or hate it, single or coupled, it’s hard to avoid the scent of amor in the air.

I’m personally rather ambivalent about the holiday. That’s not to say I’m ambivalent about love. On the contrary, love is… how to express it? A big deal. So big, that I’m not sure how we’re supposed to summarize our feelings for one another in a Hallmark card or box of chocolates or over-priced dinner.

And since love is the star attraction for books and movies and, well, storytelling in general, it seems inherent we honor mighty Aphrodite for her bountiful gifts as a muse.

So what, exactly, makes a love story a love story?

Hmmmm…

My confusion as to the answer for such a seemingly basic question sent me scampering to Google.

Let’s start with a simple definition. According to dictionary.com, a love story is:

A story dealing with love.

Noted.

I should have guessed that such a complex emotion like love would be difficult to pin down as a genre.

What about examples of love stories? Perhaps there’s a common thread by looking at the books that pull at our heart strings.

According to a poll taken on Goodreads, The Ten Most Popular Love Stories are:

1. Pride and Prejudice 
by Jane Austen

2. Jane Eyre 
by Charlotte Brontë

3. Twilight (Twilight, #1) 
by Stephenie Meyer

4. The Time Traveler’s Wife 
by Audrey Niffenegger

5. The Notebook 
by Nicholas Sparks

6. Romeo and Juliet 
by William Shakespeare

7. Gone with the Wind 
by Margaret Mitchell

8. Wuthering Heights 
by Emily Brontë

9. The Princess Bride 
by William Goldman

10. Persuasion 
by Jane Austen

Clearly the criteria for what makes a great love story is highly subjective. What makes Twilight better than Romeo and Juliet, I’m not quite sure. Preferences aside, I myself have read eight of the ten titles (sorry aforementioned Twilight and the The Time Traveler’s Wife) and find it fascinating that there is no hard and fast rule for whether or not the couples in question actually end up together. Some of them are fated to live happily every after while others are clearly doomed from the start. (Though I suppose those are the only two options in love stories, right? To be or not to be?)

And as with most engaging books, most of the titles listed make the reader both cry and smile at some point throughout the pages.

But still, I’m no expert.

Thankfully Nicholas Sparks (author of The Notebook, Message In A Bottle, Dear John, The Last Song and The Lucky One) is. And I adore his Do’s and Don’ts For Writing A Love Story.

Here’s the Cliff-Notes version:

DO create ordinary characters that do extraordinary things.

DON’T make it easy on your characters.

DO explore the full range of human emotions.

DON’T make love a small affair.

DO create bittersweet endings.

DON’T write one-dimensional women.

DO create internal conflict to parallel external conflict.

DON’T use excessive profanity.

DO give fate a role to play.

DON’T write simple villains.

Sounds good to me. What about movies? Is there anything more cathartic than a love story and a bucket of popcorn?

According to AFI (American Film Institute), The Ten Most Romantic Movies of All Time are:

1. Casablanca
2. Gone With The Wind
3. West Side Story
4. Roman Holiday
5. An Affair To Remember
6. The Way We Were
7. Doctor Zhivago
8. It’s A Wonderful Life
9. Love Story
10. City Lights

Most of these films are heavy on the waterworks side, and notably none of them were produced after the 1970s (the oldest being City Lights, a charming Chaplin film). Love, it seems, has an affinity for the classics.

In case you have aspirations of writing a writing a romantic story fit for the big screen, first consider why the genre is so difficult to execute well. In summarizing Hollywood story consultant John Truby’s analysis of the love story structure, we must bear in mind:

1. Twice the character development. (And you thought writing one main character was tough!)

With two, you not only have to detail their weaknesses and needs, you have to track a goal for each character that won’t kill the story drive.

2. Subtly and intimacy vs big reveal. 

Big reveals are easy. But with love, you don’t get that luxury. You have to dig deep into the psyches of both characters and find the subtle differences and hidden agendas that even the closest couple will keep from each other.

3. Where’s the plot?

Love is a story form that should naturally take ten minutes. Boy and girl meet, they feel a spark, the rest is negotiation. But you have to fill two hours, which is why most love stories don’t have enough plot.

4. The audience as the third wheel.

You have to make the audience not only see the love but feel it, want it, even demand that it happen. If that isn’t hard enough, your characters must want it, but fear it and avoid it as well. It’s not easy.

In the article, Mr. Truby also touches on our universal fear of love. Not just from past hurts, as this feels contrite, and takes the audience backwards and thus out of the story, but from our fear of love in the present tense. I’d argue this goes one step further still, that our fear of love comes from our fear of being not just truly seen, but accepted, for who we are today and tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrows.

“If you believe love is the most important thing in life, if you believe that learning to love is how we live a good life, then you should write this form. But, make it a real love story.
Use the love story structure steps to show how love can deepen. A good love story is among the most powerful of all genres because it shows the audience what love could mean in their own lives.”

On that note- I leave you with a montage of some of Hollywood’s most iconic romantic moments (tissue not included)…

Wherever you are and whomever you’re with (or without), I wish you much love today and always.

Happy’s Valentine’s Day.

There are so many stories yet to be unpacked from my trip to India. While I continue to search for the right words, I’ll leave you with some images of a few friends we met along the way…

Taking flight in the Amber Fort

Camel crossing in Rajasthan

Braking for cows in Jaipur

Entrance to the Monkey Temple

Who’s in charge here?

Goats galore

Keeper of the mountain

The look-outs

The family that grooms together…

Snack time

Catching up on the headlines

I need some alone time

Guard dogs of Goa

The King of the sandcastle

Beach bum

While not exactly the Big Five of an African safari, the wildlife of India proved to be captivating in their own right.

Or at least, willing participants for the tourist paparazzi!

One of the last photos I took, this graffiti was on the wall of the exterior of our hotel in Mumbai

India was not what we imagined her to be.

Instead, India was her own: Independent, mysterious, mischievous, and strangely intoxicating.

Though I have often arrived in a new place without fixed plans, India was not amused. She laughed in our faces upon arrival in Delhi at 2am without having booked any hotels or transportation. She showed no remorse when we got lured by a tout into a travel package that cost about five times what it should, with little to show for it. She offered no apologies for the grit or the grime or the bold-faced lies.

She didn’t get dolled up or put on a show. What did she care that National Geographic and Pinterest displayed her wares as a cacophony of jewel colored cloth bathed in liquid sunlight, when the reality was grit and grime and far, far more complicated than a simple image could hope to depict?

One of countless beggar children on the side of India’s insanely busy roads.

India didn’t smell of cardamon and exotic spices. She didn’t offer herself with open arms.

Not in the beginning anyway. No.

India insisted we must first earn her trust.

But once we did, once we gave in and agreed to play by her rules, she lifted her veil and rewarded us tenfold.

That reward came only after a 40-hour train-ride with innumerable cockroaches and cramped quarters. After a fever that sent me to the doctor that left me with antibiotics that gave me hives and further fueled my disappointment for a land I had so long yearned to meet. After being bombarded by hecklers and other tourists at the major sights of Amber Fort and Fatehpur Sikri, and even, yes even letting us down somewhat at the iconic Taj Mahal for being, after all, just a building (albeit a photogenic one)… What did we expect? I’m not sure, but the let down was our own doing, our own manifestation of expectations.

India was not to blame.

The  Taj Mahal descending through the morning mist – beautiful in photos but oddly unsatiating in person

The tides finally started to turn in Fort Kochi, with a restaurant we returned to three times in two days. With a man named Augustin who sorted out the rest of the trip and booked our backwater boat and told us stories about flowers and the nature of good versus evil.

Mouthwatering breakfast at Kashi in Kochi

Once on the boat, as if to reward our good behavior, India allowed us time to relax and reflect in the Kerala backwaters with delicious food and a wonderful crew. She began healing our wounds and soothing our fears with slow sunsets and views of rice-paddies and the intrinsic powers of lapping water and pools of floating water lilies.

Reflections in Kerala

Back on land, India offered us her greatest gift: her people. Our driver to and from the backwaters was a man named Das. He mentioned he knew a guesthouse we would like. We were skeptical, to say the least, having been swindled several times before on the trip. But we too were learning to trust again, to open ourselves to possibilities. So we agreed.

It was the best decision of the trip.

The guesthouse was the newly opened Sea Hut Homestay, a kilometer outside the center of town. We had the place entirely to ourselves and complete with private beach access, hammocks, and most importantly, the Joseph family who owned and operated the oasis. This chapter of the story deserves (and shall receive) it’s own post, but for now I’ll bookmark it as the highlight and true turning point of the trip. While the bohemeth fortresses failed to impress, the people of India rose to win our hearts.

Dance off! More of this story soon…

For the first time, we didn’t want to leave.

But India knows well the secret to desire: always leave them wanting more.

So onwards to Goa we went. Other than the glorious beaches, there was little sightseeing to be done. We were there to visit my friend, Hannah and her boyfriend, Lee, who have called India home since September. This was not their first trip to India. Hannah has been to India on seven different occasions. It was also where she first met Lee, years ago.

They too had heard the siren song of India. And it was a comfort to learn they also had to gain her trust before being permitted to fall for her charms.

Soon we met travelers Candace, fresh off her job behind the scenes of the Rickshaw Run, and Kim and Brian from Portland. There was instant camaraderie and and kinship. At breakfast we pondered where to eat lunch. At lunch we consulted about where to eat dinner. And of course there were the in-between servings of chai, Turborg, and tantalizingly garlicky bruschetta.

Beach bums! (a.k.a Hannah, Candace and my ginormous hair)

Our days were filled with conversation about travel and writing and life and, of course, about India. Our bellies were full of food and beer and cappuccinos and fresh squeezed juices. Our hair was full of sand. Our hearts were full with laughter.

Life is good in Goa

Again, all too quickly, India beckoned us further. She had more to say. We still had her her beloved Mumbai to explore and savor and enjoy.

In collaboration with fate, India offered us our new friend Candace as a tour guide and travel companion. Our Colaba hotel turned out to be about 20 feet from where she was staying. We couldn’t have asked for a better experience.

Mumbai Paparazzi

From the narrow-laned markets, to Bollywood, to street food, to fancy cocktails, to cricket watching (the game, not the insect), Mumbai was, indeed, magical.

Final morning in India

Our last full day in India happened to be Republic Day, India’s 4^th of July of sorts. With flags adorning every street corner and smiles on the faces of her people, India proudly displayed her independence, as if anyone who has had the privilege of meeting her would dare question it’s existence.

“But nothing in India is identifiable, the mere asking of a question causes it to disappear or merge into something else.” ~ E.M. Forster

Even my memories of the trip don’t feel like my own.

They belong to India.

::

Have you been to India or somewhere else that defied your expectations? How do you adapt to places when they don’t fit into the mold you expected? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

Rear View Mirror In Mumbai

One of my favorite childhood books was the artistically aesthetic, I Unpacked My Grandmother’s Trunk by Susan Ramsay Hoguet. Each page depicted an item appearing from the magical trunk in alphabetical order. The book simply begins: I unpacked my grandmother’s trunk, and out of it I took an acrobat. The next page reads: An acrobat and a bear. Followed by: An acrobat, a bear, and a cloud.

You get the idea.

I’m not sure why I loved that book so much. It doesn’t exactly contain a profound lesson or exciting story arc. I suppose my five year old mind enjoyed the anticipation of discovery. I mean, who would guess a dinosaur, a fairy, and a queen could all squeeze together in one small storage unit?

Late last night I returned home from a journey in India. Upon first sight of the familiar yet still intensely dramatic NYC skyline, I felt like I’d been gone for months instead of weeks. And when I stepped through the door to my apartment, the entire experience instantly transformed into a dream, as if I had simply gone out to the grocery store instead of the other side of the world, let alone to a country I had yearned to visit for so many years.

Within minutes of being home my head hit the pillow and I dazed in and out of a jet-lag induced sleep.

In the morning the first thing I did was unpack my belongings from the trip.

Along with the clothes to be laundered, the gifts to be given, and the bevy of souvenirs to be assigned space, came the unpacking of memories:

A place. A person. An experience.

India wasn’t a dream. It really happened. 

The first question people ask whenever I’ve returned from a trip is always how was it? to which I typically reply with a generically descriptive word or sentence. “Wonderful. Hard. Relaxing. Happy to be home. Etc.”

But India was different… it was a blur.

There will be stories to share of course. But which ones?

At present they are like twisted strands of yarn in need of patient untangling.

So I unpack and clean and put away.

The stories will come.

Though perhaps not in alphabetical order.

::

How do you assimilate back into the real world after time away? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments below.

Taking flight en route to JFK

In less than twelve hours from now I’ll be on a flight to India via London from my home here in Brooklyn, NY. There is much to do between now and then, but I wanted to check in with you and see how your January is going!

Over here, the first half of the first month of the new year isn’t over yet and there are already so many stories to share. Here’s a quick update of 2013 thus far:

Beautiful Blue Hill

New Year’s Eve was celebrated in beautiful Blue Hill, Maine. The day before arrival, a bevy of snow blanketed the charming coastal town, offering an almost magical quality to the landscape. The crisp, cool (read: freezing cold) air and break from my computer was a welcomed way to start anew.

A few days later I was off to the New Media Expo (NMX for short) in Las Vegas for three days of video interviews, keynotes, sessions, and meet-ups. I was honored and thrilled to speak about getting on-camera ready to a room filled with content creators, business owners, entrepreneurs, and social media experts. The focus of the talk was on dealing with nerves, how to “acting natural”, and the Art of the Interview. Huge props to some brave audience members for volunteering for some live interaction demonstrations!

From one New York, New York to another

After arriving back in NYC on a red-eye flight just after dawn yesterday morning, it’s been a whirlwind and daze to get caught up on emails and get prepared for the next 17 days of India adventures. Strong emphasis on the adventures part since as of now, there are no hotels or domestic flights booked… one step at a time! Fortunately, as you can probably tell from last month’s international getaway, I’m becoming quite accustomed to winging it. Though, of course, India will be a much more intense experience.

So all this to say, things my be quiet for a couple of weeks here in Show & Tell land… or they may not… time and the Wi-Fi gods will tell.

If I may, I’d like to take this time to remind you of a few opportunities you won’t want to miss if you are ramping up your video content in 2013:

I’ll be leading an all-day workshop at the gorgeous Teahouse Studio in Berkeley, California about out to become BFF with video! Let’s get you and your business on-camera ready! By the end of this workshop you will be excited to:

Tell your story on camera in two minutes or less
Choose the right video format for you and your business
Determine what you need & don’t need to get started shooting videos TODAY
Gain confidence speaking on camera

BONUS: I will also be offering their professional in-studio sessions on Sunday, February 10 at Teahouse Studio. Only 6 more spots are available on a first come first serve basis at sign-up. You can register for your in-studio session here.

The workshop is only $195 and includes catered lunch! If you’re interested, please don’t delay in registering. The workshop is limited to 12 people.

Attention Everyone Everywhere!

As a thank you for purchasing Front & Center, your online multimedia experience to get you and your story in the spotlight, I’m hosting a live call on Wednesday, February 6th at 8pm EST to answer your burning questions about videos and speaking on camera! Not to worry if you can’t join us at that time as the call will be recorded.

That means that for only $97 you’ll receive the 6 Modules, 9 videos, resource guides, and homework assignments PLUS a live call to answer your specific questions.

And if you’re really in video-making mode and want my undivided attention and advice, for $294 you’ll receive everything mentioned above PLUS a 1-on-1 consultation via Skype.

To learn more, hear glowing testimonials, and register, click here.

On the fence about getting started making videos? Need some extra motivation? Watch business and lifestyle expert, Marie Forleo share her awesome story of video transformation:

Alright, that’s the news for now!

What is your next project or adventure? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below!

Auld Lang Syne

1. old times, especially times fondly remembered.

2. old or long friendship.

::

A new year means new beginnings, yet we sing about the past as the clock strikes midnight.

We move forward and onward, while honoring the path and people who led us here.

Looking back on a personal level:

2011 was about shedding, letting go in an attempt to rebuild.

2012 was about defining, trying on roles and experiences and experimenting to see what fit.

2013….

is about igniting, experiencing life deeply and fully.

The time for anxious contemplation and testing the waters is over.

Now is the time to dive in.

I’d rather end the year exhausted than bored. I’d rather look back on memories than what-ifs.

This final week of the year, I’ve journaled specific goals for the next 365 days in terms of Travel, Community, Writing, Performing, Business, and Personal Development. I’ve written out what went well and what didn’t go well in 2012. I’ve brainstormed what I’m skilled at what would be better left done by others. I’ve daydreamed my ideal day, ideal year, and ideal life.

These were helpful exercises, but they aren’t the final step.

The hard part is what comes next:

The doing.

2012 offered the match.

Ready or not, 2013 is time to ignite.

 ::

Do you have a word or resolution for the New Year?  I’d love to hear your story in the comments below!

A very Happy New Year to you and yours.

“The best thing about the future is that it comes only one day at a time.”

~ Abraham Lincoln

::

The last Friday of 2012.

WOW.

For many of us, it’s been  a wild ride these past twelve months.

And now it’s time to turn our attention forward.

The photo above is an image of some NYC street art (a.k.a. graffiti) I snapped with my iPhone a few months back.  I love the sentiment because it serves as a reminder that the choices we make today determine who we become tomorrow.

Foresight is more powerful than hindsight.

We still have a few days left to choose the direction we want to go in 2013.

Wishing you weekend of celebration for what is to come.

Cheers!