Page 38 of Love in the Stacks
“After work is fine.” Nicole’s voice breaks through my train of thought. “But how hard would it be for us to meet here? I mean, with Joan and everything? I’m just thinking that it’ll be best to practice in a more formal environment like the classroom upstairs.”
My heart sinks. “Fair enough,” I answer. “That makes sense.” Though I’ve been accused of beingtoosensible at times, right now, I want to throw sense out the window. Who needs it? “And as far as Joan,” I continue, “if I could go home and walk her, maybe eat some dinner in between, that could work.”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod. “That works. Maybe like seven o’clock? The library should be pretty quiet then, too.”
I dip my head in agreement. “This Wednesday for our first session?”
She grins. “I’ll be here. And cheer up. It’ll be fun.”
Well, if anyone can make public speaking fun, it will be Nicole.
At the first session on Wednesday, I haven’t had time yet to draft my script, so we start with some basic techniques that are supposed to help me feel less nervous ahead of the presentation.
Nicole’s right that the library is very quiet. Midterms have just finished up, but it’s not time for finals just yet. Several students sit throughout the second floor in study carrels with laptops set up in front of them, but it’s not crowded by any means.
We’re meeting in the second-floor library classroom. It’s a small room, intended to host sessions of twenty-five or fewer, with a presentation screen in the front of the room and a projector mounted to the ceiling. A podium sits to the right of the screen, equipped with various connector cables.
I’m still dressed in my clothes from work. Nicole suggested that wearing them would help since they are the type of clothes I’ll wear during the presentation. So, when I went home to walk Joan and grab a quick dinner, I didn’t change. Nicole, however, is now in navy blue joggers and a fitted pullover hoodie that says “Antisocial Book Club” across the front.
“It will be good if you can get to the presentation room early at the conference,” Nicole is saying. “That way you can get a feel for the room and eliminate any nervousness from rushing around.”
“Okay,” I say, jotting down her words on a legal pad I brought with me for notes. “Get there early. Got it.”
“Having a specific breathing pattern helps to calm nerves, too. One example is box breathing. Have you heard of it?”
I shake my head, so she continues. “It’s where you breathe in for four counts, hold your breath for four counts, exhale for four counts, and then hold again for four more counts. Try it.”
We box breathe together for a few rounds, and I have to admit that I do feel looser when we finish.
“Another tactic to use ahead of the presentation, but which might feel a little silly, is to, like, shake out your jitters.”
I raise my eyebrows. “My jitters?”
“Yes. You know, like you could stretch your arms, roll your shoulders, even run in place. It helps loosen up the muscles that you’ve been holding your tension in.”
“Ah,” I say. “That actually makes sense.” Not sure how I’ll do that at the conference without looking ridiculous, but it does make sense.
“Of course it does,” she retorts, looking mildly offended. “One of the bigger pieces of advice I’ve seen is to be prepared. As you write your script, and we practice it—that will be our next two sessions—you’ll feel more confident. But,” she shrugs and her eyes twinkle, “that’s not necessary for everyone.”
I eye her skeptically. “You don’t need to prepare before a presentation?”
“Before a presentation like this, I definitely will,” she says. “But I could also make a short speech about something I know a lot about without any preparation at all.”
I laugh wryly. “Uh huh.” I tilt my head at her. “I don’t think so.”
She gets up and walks around to stand at the podium. “Watch,” she says. “Give me a topic. It’s got to be something I know about.”
“Hmm,” I think. “How about which potato-based side is the best?”
She grins at me and then proceeds to talk for three minutes all about tater tots and how and why they’re superior to mashed potatoes, fries, and my personal favorite, baked potatoes.
“Wow.” I applaud when she’s done. “How do you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I’ve always been good at extemporaneous speeches. I don’t get nervous when I’m speaking in front of people.” Then she adds with a sardonic smile, almost under her breath, “It’s just everything else that bothers me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, cocking my head at her.
She shakes her head. “I’m not so great with casual small talk.”
