It s Not What You Say ....

It’s Not What You Say ….

Repetition builds retention, so the more you say it, the more it will stick. On the other hand, you don’t want to blurt out a rehearsed one-liner, either. Politicians say the same thing over and over, word for word, and we don’t trust them. The only other people who lock themselves into repetition are people who are uncomfortable talking outside a script—or, more likely, people who have something to hide.

Instead, what you want is to be able to say the same thing over and over, but in a different way each time. Always use a story, because stories paint pictures worth thousands of words. A good vignette makes your product relevant and brings your point home.

In February 2000, days before the e-conomy fell like a heavy stone, Seth Goldstein, late-twenty-something entrepreneur at the venture capital firm Flatiron Partners, sat across the table from Tony Guida on CNN. Seth was there to explain why he had $50 million in his pocket earmarked for “pervasive computing” and what, exactly, pervasive computing was. (In case you’re wondering, we’ll get to the definition in a moment.) Seth’s task was to explain why pervasive was so hot, and why he was the guy to fund the next big idea. But he had a big hurdle to overcome: Pervasive computing is a simple concept, but few people can explain it in simple terms.

Yet there was Seth, on TV, doing just that. He made it simple to understand for the millions watching CNN that night, because he explained it countless times, and each explanation was different from the last. He began by defining pervasive computing as the shift away from Web content on the PC and onto specific devices. The journalist asked him to explain a bit more, so Seth rephrased the definition: He said that it was a continuous experience that, with the Internet, ensured that devices other than your computer would deliver the capabilities of the Web to you. From the bathroom to the boardroom, the Web would be in your pocket, giving you the info you need exactly when and where you need it.

Seth used his confidence—artificial and otherwise—to make the concepts real with some fun examples. Tiny, pervasive computing devices could be built into your fridge, for example, that knew when you were out of milk and ordered a new carton for you. Or perhaps the pervasive device knows that you like the Knicks, not the Nets, and it has an inkling of the type of stocks you trade and gives you the information you want on the subjects that matter the most to you.

Indeed, Seth made Guida all hot and bothered with an explanation of the new, digital picture frame that displayed photos found on Web pages and an Internet radio that played music like a regular radio, except that the tunes come from the Web, not from the airwaves. At the end of those four minutes (and four minutes is a luxury on television, by the way) everyone watching CNN that night “got” what pervasive computing was. Seth put it in terms that everyone could relate to, over and over again. The conversation was about his topic, so his confidence was soaring. He owned the show, and everyone who was watching that night.

The question you may be asking yourself right about now is: What if the topic turns toward something you aren’t comfortable with? A few years back, coauthor Michael Prichinello spent some time as the communications director for New York’s Lt. Governor Betsy McCaughey Ross. His experience as the mouthpiece for a firecracker politician taught him the delicate science of directing the conversation and making it your own.

Far from the civil number two she was expected to be, Betsy was a loose cannon, challenging the old boys’ network whenever the opportunity presented itself. In the chaotic seas of New York politics, Betsy’s outlaw actions made her an island on the fringe of the map. She crossed party lines, publicly attacked party members, and even challenged her own governor in the election—sure political suicide.

During her reign, Mike had the tough job of delivering Betsy’s platform on issues such as the expansion of health care to cover procedures deemed “experimental” but necessary (like bone-marrow and stem-cell transplants) and the passage of gun control laws to reduce the number of New York toddlers involved in accidental household shootings. But all the media wanted to talk about was her public feud with Governor Pataki, the breakup of her two-year-old marriage to financier Wilbur Ross, and the $10 million missing from her campaign war chest.

So Mike quickly learned how to use two staples of public relations, bridging and flagging (discussed in more detail later in this chapter). When these two techniques are used properly, there isn’t a conversation out there you can’t master with ease. Bridging is merely using a phrase that gets you from Topic A, or one that you aren’t confident in or don’t want to discuss, to Topic B, the one you really want to discuss right now.

For example, Mike was on the phone with a venomous political journalist who asked if Betsy slept in the office to avoid seeing her husband at home. He was hot on the trail of a controversial tell-all, but all Mike wanted to talk about was health care reform! He needed to bridge to turn the conversation back to his own turf. His response was, “You should know that here in Albany, Betsy vowed not to sleep until everyone suffering from cancer got a check from their insurance company …”

Thus the stage was set to talk about health care again, and the journalist got the point: Mike wasn’t going to help with this sensationalist angle. At that moment, the pause he needed was installed, and Mike was able to continue talking about Betsy’s health care platform again, spurting facts and figures to support her position.

During Mike’s time with this colorful politico, he kept notes for phone interviews that mapped out the different paths he would take to get out of a mess—that is, back to familiar ground. As he got better at it and gained some confidence, the notes started to disappear. There is a special power in knowing how to handle yourself well in an interview, a power to which people naturally gravitate.