My father would look at me; shake his head and say, “That boy’s all ‘mouth and trousers’”.
He was right. I was very small for my age. Born in Sevenoaks, England, at the wrong area of the town, and unable to hold my own with my fists, I fought with my mouth. When things turned pear-shaped, I used my long legs to run away. The strategy wasn’t always successful. The boy next door became so frustrated with my taunts that he jumped over the fence and duffed me up before I was able to escape.
My big mouth was also noticed by adults, I was selected to deliver the monologue in the Scout Gang Show and every night for a week I stood on stage and belted out.
I’m getting to an awkward age says mum just now,
Mustn’t stamp, mustn’t yell,
Can’t keep rabbit’s cause they smell,
Mustn’t bite my nails, just fancy that.
Well I think spitting’s awful fun
But it ‘absolutely isn’t done’.
Gor don’t make yer want to spit.
Don’t it make yer want to kick the cat……..
The Scout Master remembered the cheeky little pint-sized kid who could get on his feet and belt it out. I was promoted Patrol Leader then Troop Leader.
At age thirteen I was sent to ‘The Training Ship Mercury’, arguably the toughest school in England at the time. The majority of the cadets were from broken homes (I was one of the few who wasn’t). Some boys had been sent because borstal wasn’t considered tough enough for them. There were about three attempted escapes a term, those recaptured were frogmarched down to the gym, tied across the vaulting box and flogged.
I was the smallest cadet when I joined. I was the smallest cadet when I left four years later! My mouth and long legs came in handy again. This time my mouthing-off was noticed by the officers and teaching staff. I was picked for the school plays and asked to compere the school review. Being able to stand up and deliver paid off again, I was promoted through the ranks to Chief Cadet Captain (head boy).
Many years later, having transferred to NZ as the IT Manager of a large British multinational, my boss said to me. “Mike, how would you like to come along to Toastmasters with me tonight? You’ll enjoy it; it’s a great training ground. It’ll give you confidence.”
I didn’t feel I lacked confidence and toasts sounded to me like a waste of good drinking time. But I fancied a promotion, so I agreed.
I discovered Toastmasters had very little to do with delivering toasts. What it does do, is teach people how to get on their feet and make a speech, or deliver a presentation (structure, content, body language, vocal variety etc. etc.) It is a very supportive environment. I remember a particular new member delivering his first speech; he was white and shaking with fear. A few months later, with the support and help of other members of the club, he had become a very accomplished speaker. A few years later, he gave the speech at my wedding, undoubtedly one of the most humours speeches many in the audience had heard (unfortunately most of the funny stories he told about me were true).
What Toastmasters did for me was to give me the skills to construct and deliver my own material rather than simply belting out the work of others. It is a skill that I have found invaluable throughout my business life, and am now finding hugely beneficial as a full time author.
Toastmasters also run speaking competitions for those who wish to take part. I suspect the reason my boss asked me along was because he was taking part in a speaking competition that evening himself. He knew a creep like me would laugh and clap in the right places. And I did. And he won the competition.
I joined too and in the next competition (the impromptu speaking competition) I not only knocked him out of the club competition but went on to win the NZ final. Big mistake. This time I didn’t get promoted.
Realising I would never be forgiven; I left and started my own company where my Toastmaster skills were again invaluable.
It was while working as a recruitment consultant that I discovered one of the great truths of life. It isn’t the academically cleverest people who make the biggest salaries. It’s the people who can present and sell their ideas (or, as in the case of Bill Gates, present and sell other people’s ideas.)
When I wrote my first book – a humorous novel called
Big Aggie Sails the Gulf, New Zealand Publishers agreed it was very funny but told me there was no market for such a book in New Zealand. I decided to publish it myself and not only did I sell the 2000 copies I had printed, but one of the publishers who had previously told me there wasn’t a market for that type of book, approached me to print the sequel! By that time another publisher had seen one of my presentations and commissioned me to write a book on Speechmaking (Successful Speechmaking) so I had to say no.
When I retired five years ago I at last had the time to write again. Like many who retire, I also felt it was time to ‘put something back’. Having lost my son to suicide I resolved to raise $10,000 for LifeLine Auckland (an organisation that gets no direct government funding). I decided to combine my twin goals and write a novel and donate the proceeds to LifeLine.
An outbreak of SARS coincided with my retirement and I began to wonder what would happen if a pandemic got out of control. What would happen, what would I do, how would protect myself and my family? The answers to those questions became the basis of my novel
The Crucial Gene. (The sequel to
Big Aggie is on the back burner yet again!)
Having already successfully self published I decided to go down that route again. I realised that if I could use my toastmaster skills to sell 1,000 books I would raise my $10,000. By talking to Lions, Rotary and Probus Clubs I again sold the print run (including the print overrun) and was delighted to exceed my planned donation to LifeLine.
I was equally delighted, when Random House picked up the novel.
The Crucial Gene is being republished this month with a new title
Blood Line, a new jacket, and an added chapter. Harriet Allan, the fiction publisher has been a delight to work with; the result being a crisper and tighter novel. I hope those who read it will enjoy it. It does come with a health warning. Don’t start reading it after eight o’clock in the evening. A lot of people have read right through the night – I kid you not.
The moral of my story is that technical skills and academic excellence whilst helpful are not the most important attribute we can possess. The ability to get up and promote our ideas, ourselves, what we have invented, written or created is far more critical. How many great inventions have never seen the light of day because the inventor could not sell the idea? How many great books have never been published because the author did not have the ability to promote them?
Whatever your field of endeavour, let me recommend Toastmaster International to you. You will find their details
www.toastmasters.org.nz