It takes a long time to fly from Orlando to Phoenix. So long that on a recent business trip I had the time to read an entire book from beginning to end in one sitting. After seeing Bill Cosby on David Letterman, I ran out to get the book in prep for my cross-country trek. I love Bill Cosby so much that as a kid I named my dog after him. Compared to his famous Chocolate Cake and Noah’s Ark sketches, his new book, I Didn’t Ask to Be Born (but I’m Glad I Was),is a let down. And not because the stories aren’t good – they’re actually very good! – but because there are no words that can live up to his brilliant delivery that made his career. The same could be said of Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert. I like their writing, but I love their performances.
Some comedic authors can deliver on the page – the comedic siblings David Sedaris and Amy Sedaris immediately come to mind (maybe it’s all in the genes!) Tina Fey, Anne Lamott, and Bill Bryson have regularly made me laugh out loud with their honesty, wit, and turn of phrase. It’s hard enough to get the timing down in performance; getting it done on the page is even more challenging given that the reader controls the timing and cadence of the words. Nailing the delivery is almost impossible if you’re not the one delivering your own story in-person. And even for these titans of comedic writing, hearing them say their own stories out loud upped the degree of their humor. David Sedaris’s books make me laugh out loud, but seeing him on stage and then meeting him in person made me double over and laugh so hard I cried.
As a writer and serious hater of performance, I find this highly annoying. The mere thought of standing on a stage and having people stare at me causes me to break out in hives. Even as I’ve gained experience as a teacher and presenter over the years, I still feel like I’m going to be sick before each event. I continue to do it because I care a lot about the message, particularly if the message I’m delivering comes from my own experience.
I recently had lunch with my friend, Jeff, and I told him about my interest in taking a storytelling class at one of the New York improv theatres. He explained how wonderful certain storytelling classes are because they give the writers the opportunity to perform their own work. I casually glanced around the restaurant to make sure I could quickly locate the rest room in case I had a sudden case of early onset upset stomach. And by early onset I mean I haven’t even registered for the class yet much less gotten ready to perform. I dislike the stage that much.
I told Jeff I wasn’t really interested in performing my own work, and his off-the-cuff response was “Christa, no one tells the story better than the writer. There’s only so much that can be written down.” I’m sure my face dropped and I rolled my eyes, all out of fear. I knew Jeff was right and I realized in that moment that if I really want to take this class and get serious about live storytelling, then I have to face up to my battle with the stage. I hated Jeff for making that so obvious.
I hate his answer so much that for a few weeks I’ve tried to pretend he’s completely wrong and has no idea what he’s talking about. And then I read Bill Cosby’s book, which caused me to think about when I saw David Sedaris read from his books in person. And then there was no denying it – the delivery matters at least as much as the words on the page. Screw that up and even the most brilliantly funny story becomes unremarkable.
So I’ve been practicing my acting out. I read my posts aloud before I hit publish. I turn some into podcasts. And I’ll let you in on a little secret – my own stories, the ones I’ve actually lived, become more real to me when I hear them out loud in my own voice. I choke up, cry, laugh, and get angry. I feel the weight of the words in my mouth and their gravity on my shoulders. The performance of my stories, even just to myself in the mirror, has caused me to occasionally change some of the wording. Once I passed that milestone, I knew for certain that Jeff was right.
Delivery matters more than we realize. It is a high art.
Christa Avampato 
Hi Christa,
This is a wonderful article, but I disagree with one of your points;
“Christa, no one tells the story better than the writer. There’s only so much that can be written down.”
Sadly, this is not always true!
As a bookseller for 35+ years and having done hundreds (and hundreds!) of author events, I can assure you that there are a great many writers who ought never be allowed to read their own works! Performance is an art, just as much as writing is, and some really fine writers are very bad at performing their own words.
As you point out, some writers can perform their own writing brilliantly, but it is simply not true that the writer can tell the story better than anyone else. Which is a painful thing to experience.
You obviously have a pretty good idea of how your words should be spoken, and I bet you are very good a it!
~Alla
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Thanks for your thoughtful comment, Alla, and for sharing your experience. This is such an interesting perspective. (And actually makes me feel a bit better about my stage fright in performing my own work.) Funny turn of events – I just signed up for a voiceover class. Gives me the opportunity to perform without people looking at me!
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