When I was a reporter, I was on task every minute of every day, and my byline appeared in print several times a week. But researching and writing a nonfiction book, my current focus, is an onerous, lonely, long-term task. So sometimes I like to exercise my writing muscles in a different way, to try and write something quick and winsome, even if only for the eyes of my friends or neighbors. And often the inspiration for these little prose poems is in the woods right outside my writing window.
Listening for the writing prompt outside my window
My friend, red-shouldered hawk, has been coming around regularly most mornings, perched high in the bare ghost-like oak branches above Klingle, loudly, pugnaciously staking his claim with a sharp “Keeyur, Keeyur.” This is his territory, and it could be so for a quarter century.
He’s handsome more than pretty, or maybe just well-dressed, with orange-brown underneath and dark brown on his back and shoulders (despite the name). But he’s a bit of a thug. Thick, stocky even, he’s a no-neck wrestler you wouldn’t want to argue with in a bar. At 17 inches he’s almost king of the roost, at least in the daytime. At night he must keep a wary ear out for Great-Horned Owl, in particular, or maybe slightly smaller Barred Owl.
But that seems not much of a threat since installation of the bike trail and its hateful urban street lamps. Barred owl, with her cute round face, a dashing brown and gray scarf thrown around her neck over a matching suit, used to come near my window almost every night and call to me “Who Cooks For You, Who Cooks For You?” Not once since the construction have I heard her alluring voice.
Nor have I heard the frightful, dire scream of red fox, who used to come so often, or the rare coyote yip and howl.
I keep my window open anyway, winter and summer, hoping.
As an actor, Kim Schraf is an authority on how to inspire change. (We watch her transform her audience every time she gets up on stage.) Kim is also a longtime teacher of storytelling; here, she shares how your story can germinate from idea to intention to actionable message.
The need that drives you
All human interaction arises out of fundamental physical and psychological needs. The pursuit of these needs is the basis for our survival, our identity and self-esteem, our instinct to negotiate, persuade, and influence others. We move through the world striving to affect those around us in order to attain what we deem necessary or desirable or beneficial. And we achieve these ends through speech that is shaped by intention.
Intention enlivens text, voice and gesture
Intention not only animates the language, it also infuses the voice with passion and the body with energy. While words on the page can be eloquent, even powerful, spoken text is charged with an immediacy that can ignite a message. The result is a resonance that lingers with the hearer. Think of the truly extraordinary speeches or presentations you’ve heard that changed you profoundly. That transformation was purposeful! The speaker’s intention travelled through the medium of the story to reach and ultimately change what you knew,how you felt, and quite possibly what you were willing to do.
Our brains are wired for story
The most intentional speakers and leaders have figured out that storytelling is a fast track toward engagement of an audience; our brains awaken and respond to a human narrative with invested characters, high stakes, and emotional reversals. The enduring power of myth and folklore is testament to the allure of a hero embarking upon a perilous journey, overcoming obstacles, and emerging triumphant. And for a listener to be a witness to such a journey is exhilarating and empowering.
Change your audience
So to change your audience, you must be as focused on your listeners as on your story. The goal is to shift or change them, to alter what theyknow, what theyfeel, and ultimately what they are willing to do. In order to create this change in your audience, you’ll need to infuse your words with a specific intention, such as:
I want to inflame my listeners’ sense of justice;
I want to forge an alliance with them;
I want to elevate their status or worth;
I want to give them permission to challenge the status quo; or,
I want to open their eyes to the potential for change.
Once you’ve identified your intention, make it as specific as possible, choosing vivid, personal language. Let it inform your words, your voice, and your body, and you will discover the direct correlation between your commitment to intention and your ability to change your audience. Quite simply, the more specific your intention, the more dynamic the possible shift in your audience.
“Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air, we wawl and cry.”
King Lear IV, v, 181-2
A baby’s first vocalization, as Shakespeare saw fit to note, is a testament to the resilience of those delicate vocal folds that vibrate in the larynx to produce the inimical sound that is a human voice — your voice. Your unique, very particular voice that makes possible not merely speech, but also whispers, hums, songs, lamentations, screams, yodels, coughs, and more.
When your voice breaks
Your voice is a marvel of bioengineering — until it isn’t. Even the sturdiest voice can fail from misuse or overuse, and repeated neglect can lead to tissue damage that may permanently alter it. Julie Andrews, Adele, Elton John, Beyoncé, Freddie Mercury, Steven Tyler, Frank Sinatra and Luciano Pavarotti, not to mention most presidential hopefuls on the campaign trail, have sustained temporary or sometimes career-ending vocal trauma.
But not even that cavalcade of luminaries was solace to me when I suffered a ruptured blood vessel on my vocal cord during the run of Oh, God at Mosaic Theater in January. I was performing seven shows a week while also rehearsing my upcoming show, The Heiress, at Arena Stage six days a week. And despite a years-long regimen of vocal warm-ups, meticulous hydration, and saltwater gargling before bed and upon rising, my “Old Faithful” voice checked out on me when I hit the wall.
Protecting your instrument
I wanted to share some tips to keep your own voice in good working order as well as some therapies that may help if you do happen to lose it. My quandary was indeed temporary, but it served as a reminder that since I’ve built a career on verbal exchange, not just on the stage, but in the classroom, recording studio, coaching suite, and more, I need to be uber-vigilant about how I treat my instrument. Embrace the following practices as part of your regimen for overall well-being, and your voice will thank you for it:
Avoid exhaustion — 7-8 hours of sleep is a good goal, but do try to avoid a pattern of shaving the hours of quality sleep that you allow your body.
Reduce stress — knowing how you best relax and recharge (yoga, exercise, meditation, cooking, gardening) will help to ensure that the voice does not respond to tension or anxiety.
Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate! The vocal folds will dry out if you don’t take in enough water, leaving them vulnerable to damage. Some experts recommend that you drink half your body weight in ounces of water each day.
Try to minimize time spent talking in extremely loud environments (restaurants, bars, concerts, construction sites, your favorite roller coaster ride) or other scenarios where you find yourself yelling or otherwise straining your voice.
Vocal rescue
And should you find yourself with a bout of laryngitis from too much vocal strain, try the following:
Vocal rest — this only works if you definitively and religiously stop making any sound whatsoever! Whispering is the worst thing you can do as it actually places more stress on the vocal folds. Get a pad and pen and commit to using it as your surrogate voice. A few days of this will probably restore most mild cases of lost or hoarse voice.
Steaming — the vocal folds love an environment of moist warmth. You can accomplish this by luxuriating in a hot shower, running a humidifier, making use of a personal steamer from the CVS, or even boiling a pot of water, removing it from the heat, and leaning over it with a towel over your head. Be careful that the air you breathe in is not uncomfortably hot. This is wonderful TLC for the voice!
Gentle gargling with salt water — this is especially therapeutic if your throat is a bit sore from vocal strain. Use 1/3 teaspoon of kosher salt in 8 ounces of water.
Castor oil throat wrap — I love this therapy! Before you go to bed, swathe your throat in castor oil and gently massage it into your skin. Then loosely wrap your throat in some soft fabric (an old cotton tee shirt or flannel cloth that you can sacrifice is good) and go to sleep.
Sip warm beverages — herbal tea that is not citrus-based with a dollop of honey is great.
Above all: listen
Finally, listen to your body. If the hoarseness or voice loss does not resolve in a week or so, seek out an ENT or otolaryngologist. Laryngoscopy, where a tiny flexible tube with a camera on the end allows a doctor to view your vocal folds in action, can record your phonation on video. You want to be sure that there are not other conditions, such as acid-reflux, thyroid malfunction, nodes or hemorrhages, responsible for your voice disorder.
A presentation or a performance begins with an idea put to words — words that are sometimes meticulously crafted and lovingly honed. Many presenters and performers make the mistake of thinking that it ends there as well. And if all you’re going to do is e-mail that text, well then, you are done. Hit send and pat yourself on the back.
Throwing body and voice behind the idea
If, however, you’re planning to share your words with an audience, you’re still missing two essential components of an authentic, dynamic presentation: body and voice. If there isn’t unity among these three aspects of your performance — idea, body, and voice — the message is incomplete. And your audience will come up short, because the whole will lack coherence and, quite possibly, credibility as well. The addition of voice and gesture makes your ideas vibrate and dance in the space; they shape, lift and land the images and thoughts; they help a listener trust the veracity and authenticity of your message.
It can be uncomfortable, disorienting, or possibly terrifying to put your words “on their feet” and to lend the music of your voice to them. But if what you’re saying doesn’t harmonize with how you’re saying it — with what an audience also hears and sees — you won’t be able to affect those listeners, to shift or change them in some way so that they leave the room in a different state. This is, after all, the measure of the success of any performance, story, speech or presentation: whether it has an impact on the audience.
Acting out the idea
Once you know the content of your presentation, try performing it silently, using only your body in space to convey the thoughts. Free your arms and hands, uproot your feet from where you’ve planted them, dare to step out from behind the podium. You’ll likely feel awkward, vulnerable, exposed. That’s good! It’s just an exercise.
Sing it to a friend
Then try singing the text, like an aria. Or speak it in an outrageous foreign accent. Have fun with your voice.
Finally, envision a very specific listener, and imagine an intimate, familiar setting. Tell your story to that one trusted, trusting friend.
Odds are that these experiments will begin to loosen you up and to free a fuller-bodied, truer-voiced iteration of your words.
Idea + body + voice = authenticity
This synthesis of idea, body and voice doesn’t come naturally to most of us, but it is possible for all of us. It requires commitment, bravery, and rehearsal! We’d love to work with you on such an endeavor. It will add immeasurably to bringing your message to your intended audience in a vibrant, memorable and authentic way.