Before I write a speech, I collect them.

I always carry a notebook — a physical one — and I also have a designated place on my phone.
I scribble down funny incidents, moments of friction, small observations, stories with humour, or moments that carry a quiet lesson.

Not because I know exactly what speech they’ll end up in —
but because good speeches rarely start at a desk.

They start in real life.

Start with the message — or let it emerge

Often, the strongest place to begin is with the message.

One of the biggest mistakes people make when writing a speech is trying to figure out what they want to say at the very end.

A speech isn’t a performance of words.
It’s a gift to an audience.

So before you write a single line, it helps to ask two essential questions:

What do I want to give the audience?
And why now?

Relevance matters.
Timing matters.
Context matters.

If there’s nothing meaningful in it for the audience, why give the speech at all?

But — and this matters — not every speech starts this way.

Sometimes the process begins with a story.

A moment you know you want to share.
Something funny, surprising, uncomfortable, or revealing.

In those cases, the message doesn’t lead — it emerges.

The key difference is this:
you’re allowing meaning to surface through the story, not forcing it on afterwards.

What doesn’t work is trying to retrofit meaning once the speech is already written.
The audience feels that immediately.

Whether you start with the message or the story, the intention has to be alive from the start.

Gather the puzzle pieces

Once the direction is clear — whether defined or emerging — the next step is how you’re going to bring it across.

This is where the puzzle pieces come in.

Examples.
Anecdotes.
Personal experiences.
Moments that illustrate rather than explain.

At this stage, it’s always better to write more than you’ll eventually use.

Writing isn’t about getting it right the first time.
It’s a process of refining.

Or, as Michelangelo famously said:

“I remove the unnecessary from the stone.”

He believed the sculpture already existed within the marble — the artist’s job was simply to remove what didn’t belong.

Speechwriting works the same way.

Speak it sooner than you think

Once you have a rough outline, don’t stay on the page.

Speak it.
Out loud.

This is where clarity appears.

You’ll notice where you repeat yourself — and repetition usually weakens a message.
You’ll hear where transitions don’t quite land.
You’ll feel whether the speech actually builds toward the moment you want to leave behind.

Remove complicated sentence structures.
Cut words that are hard to pronounce.
Make the language yours.

A speech should sound like you, not like writing.

Stand up and embody it

The final stage isn’t about memorising words.

It’s about internalising intention.

Stand up.
Move.
Feel where emphasis belongs.
Notice where a pause is more powerful than another sentence.

This is where the speech stops being text and becomes communication.

Think of it like creating an artwork:
layers, revisions, refinement — always returning to the same question:

Why am I saying these words in the first place?

Final thought

A strong speech isn’t clever.
It’s clear.

It doesn’t try to impress.
It tries to connect.

Whether you start with a message or with a story, what matters is honesty of intention — and respect for the audience.

Get that right, and the words will follow.