Speech v Novel
So I have recently had the honour to act as Guest of Honour at two fantastic events at the end of the School Calendar.
Firstly, I presented the Sports Awards at Fulham School and, more recently, I was the Guest of Honour at the Senior Prize-giving at John Lyon School in Harrow.
Both opportunities allowed me to cultivate a speech to resonate with a varied audience in terms of age range, demographic and subsequent content in relation to my own experiences as a professional sportsman. In doing this, the practicalities of creating a worthwhile speech got me thinking; what are the differences and similarities to creating a fictional novel?
When I first started to narrow in on the idea, I’ll admit that there wasn’t a whole lot of similarities that jumped out. I drafted a bit of a mix of ideas and events that could neatly fit into the package that is my sporting career. However it wasn’t until I took a deep dive into the premise that I began to dissect some of the intricacies that structured both of my speeches at the aforementioned events.
First and foremost, there had to be a message. Speaking about events for the sake of speaking about events becomes, in the context of a speech about my career, an autobiography. Whilst a narcissistic approach to revelling in the excitement that accompanies professional sport would satisfy an urge for some, it was imperative to me that there was a message underpinned to my speeches.
For me, a succinct yet important message would be the pivotal aspect from which the events can grow and provide context from, not the other way around. In truth, no one in the room would really have too much in-depth understanding of, or care for, the specifics of tournaments or matches that I’ve been involved in.
There’s a relatability aspect that goes missing in that context.
What they would be able to relate to however, is a message. A principle that can be conveyed through real-life examples of my experiences. Something that could translate across professions or interests. If people were able to relate to the message within their own context, that’s where a relatability aspect can resonate.
When you surmise your favourite stories, you can neatly pack all the details and excitement into a sentence or two that perfectly depicts the plot line. The events and excitement that make a novel or storyline what it is, simply grow from that core structure.
For me, the messaging was two-fold;
Don’t put a ceiling on your dreams.
Success is anything but linear.
When structuring the speeches from a base of this message (and without wishing to sound narcissistic) the concept of speaking about my personal experiences in my sporting career means the obstacles and events included are about me; the Protagonist. Shaping the facts and events in relation to my own contextual understanding, interpretation and beliefs mirrors a similar principle in the development of characters in a novel. In many such instances, you occupy a space whereby you can create events and obstacles for your protagonist to overcome. In doing so, your understanding of their emotions and background will shape their reactions to such events, leading them on a path that ultimately extrapolates on the succinct message that your storyline is built upon.
Given these experiences were lived through and experienced firsthand, conveying them actually became a simpler process than if I were living vicariously through the eyes of a character.
When conveying this, there had to be an authenticity to my structure and delivery that was genuine. If a message was delivered without honesty, an audience would see straight through it, regardless of their age or life-experience. In a similar fashion, the most memorable and popular characters are those that a reader can resonate with. Characters that are genuine, authentic and leave you wanting to interact with more.
Balancing this in my speeches became a difficult and thought-provoking task within the over-arching challenge of the speech structure. It was important for there to be an air of vulnerability and honesty about these challenges I had faced in order for the messaging to truly hit home which, ultimately was the primary focus. Whilst a degree of this responsibility fell on the shoulders of my delivery on the day, the context of the topics and events I chose to speak about in detail were just as important.
To evoke the power of delivery required, the substance of what was being delivered had to carry weight.
My own perceptions in the moment, and with the benefit of hindsight, all had to combine into a story that traversed time, emotions and perspectives whilst fundamentally aligning with the core message; success is anything but linear.
There was a considerable amount of trial and error that went into the structure of these topics. I even chose to add in a false ending of the 2022 Commonwealth Games. From my perception of my journey, the concept of still living it and not knowing what’s coming next, leaves an unknown that can steer my future trajectory in any number of directions.
Staying true to the message I wanted to leave the audience with meant that there could be no happy ending. A story of successes and failures and how the two are never mutually exclusive meant that the highest of highs could not be utilised as a means of ending the story when the lowest of lows are just as applicable.
My hope is that incorporating a false ending gave the same measure of hope and intrigue that a message such as that deserves.
Success is never linear and a notion that rings true in all aspects of life; not just within sport.
I’m immensely grateful to all at Fulham School and John Lyon School for the opportunity to share my experiences and giving me the opportunity to delve deeper into some of the principles of structuring a story in a new context. As time progresses, I can’t wait to expand on this principle in future speeches, as well as add a few more chapters at the end of my own story!
Nick, speaking as Guest of Honour at John Lyon School Prizegiving, 2025.
