By Bruce Turkel, CPAE
People often come up to me after a keynote and say, “I want to do what you do.”
Sometimes they’ve done a little public speaking themselves, and they’ll tell me how good they are.
That’s usually when I ask, “Tell me about the last time you bombed.”
They almost always smile and shake their heads and say with a chuckle: “Oh no, you don’t understand, Bruce. I’m really good. I’ve never bombed.”
And that’s usually when I tell them I don’t think I can help them. Because, in my opinion, if they haven’t bombed yet, it simply means they haven’t been on enough stages.
But first, a story:
A few weeks ago, I gave a keynote at a large industry event. I worked closely with the agent and the bureau, read the prep notes carefully, crafted the talk, flew out, and delivered what I thought was a thoughtful, high-energy presentation.
The audience laughed, nodded, and stuck around afterward to talk. One attendee said, “I can’t wait to see you speak again. You’ve got a new fan.” I took that as a small but meaningful win.
Then the letter arrived from the client.
It was critical. Blunt. One of those you-read-it-twice-to-make-sure-you’re-not-imagining-it kind of letters. They said my talk didn’t meet expectations, that it wasn’t focused on the subject they wanted, that my examples were outdated, and my personal favorite, that they were concerned about a social media post I had made (one that made no mention of their company or event, by the way).
When I could breathe again, I re-read the letter. Then I re-read it again. Then I called the agent to learn more and to apologize.
But I waited a few days to formally respond, because as my former business partner Roberto used to say, “You should write that kind of letter with your heart, not your liver.”
So, after the shock wore off, I wrote a thoughtful reply. I addressed each critique point by point. I explained why I opened the talk the way I did, why I used examples from outside their industry, why I referenced “All About Them,” and how I covered their subject.
I even backed up my viewpoint with empirical evidence, a third-party audience survey that showed 96% found the talk valuable, 95% wanted to hear me speak again, and more than 90% called it engaging, relevant, and inspiring. Plus, three glowing testimonial videos I had recorded minutes after I got off the stage.
Of course, none of that changed the outcome. They’d made up their minds.
But here’s the thing, they didn’t just cancel the next series of events I was booked for. They also asked for the fee to be refunded. Not reduced. Refunded.
Feedback, Failure, and the Fear of Not Being Good Enough
That’s when the self-doubt kicked in.
I’ve been speaking professionally for a long time. I’ve stood on stages around the world, in front of thousands of people. I’ve opened conferences, closed conferences, and sat on panels in places with names I still can’t pronounce correctly. I know how to connect with an audience. I know how to deliver value. And yet, after just one harsh email, I found myself wondering, “Was I not good enough? Did I miss something obvious?”
That’s when I remembered something my father used to say: “Almost everyone suffers from imposter syndrome. In fact, the only people who don’t have it are the imposters. Because they don’t know what they don’t know.”
As my friend Caroline de Posada reminded me, self-doubt isn’t the problem. It’s a reminder that you care. That you’re pushing yourself. That you’re taking risks and trying to deliver real value. Unfortunately, when you do that, sometimes outcomes happen you didn’t expect.
As a branding guy, I know the importance of a consistent message. But as a speaker and a human being, I’ve learned that often times resonance matters more than consistency. Sometimes you’re the right voice for the room, and sometimes you’re not. It doesn’t mean you didn’t prepare. It doesn’t mean you weren’t good. It just means there was a disconnect.
So, if you’re trying to do something great, let me say this:
Don’t judge your ability by the times you crushed it. Instead, look at what you did after the times you didn’t.
No matter what you’re doing, if you’ve never bombed, you just haven’t done it enough or you haven’t tried hard enough. Because, as my friend and great speaker Dan Thurmon, CSP, CPAE, says, “If you want to juggle, you’d better be willing to drop a lot of balls.”
Good stuff. If you can’t profit from pain, you must be dead. Every tough diagnosis is an opportunity and challenge to learn, and overcome.
Bruce you are an amazing speaker. I’m so sorry that happened to you. Possibly that client went over budget and was looking to recover. He or she might have tried to find money from various vendors? Just say’n. Curious about your response to the reimbursement request.
Thank you for your kind words, Irma, and for your thoughtful take on what might have been going on behind the scenes. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the budget shifted. Maybe someone needed a scapegoat. I’ll probably never know.
But here’s what I do know:
We find two kinds of people in business and in life. There are those who prioritize money over values. And there are those who put values first, even when it costs them.
As Adam Smith observed more than 250 years ago, “Two different roads are presented to us … one, by the study of wisdom and the practice of virtue; the other, by the acquisition of wealth and greatness… The great mob of mankind are the admirers and worshippers… of wealth and greatness.”
And then there’s the reminder I’ve always carried with me:
“A value isn’t a value unless it costs you something.”
Years ago, I walked away from a very high-profile, very lucrative on-air role at Fox Business. Not because it wasn’t a great opportunity, but because there was no alignment. I could simply not support, even tacitly, the things they were saying and purporting to be the truth. In order to sleep with myself, my values had to come first. That decision wasn’t easy. But it was simple.
I can’t say what motivated that client’s request. I can only say this: In any business built on trust, respect, and long-term relationships, money is important. But it’s not the most important thing. Reputation, empathy, integrity, those are the currencies that matter most.
Because to me, richness isn’t measured by what you have. It’s measured by who you are.
Whew! Love the candor here, Bruce, and it’s so timely for me as I’ve recently had one of these experiences. You’re so right that it’s super-unsettling, but ultimately, as you say, it’s a bit of a numbers game: if it hasn’t happened to you it’s probably because you haven’t been on enough stages. Or you are a mind reader and miracle worker. Either or.
But such an important point that it’s how we respond to these instances that determine the next steps along our speaking journey, right? Humility goes a long way, I have found, but so does going back to basics and reminding yourself why and how you do what you do best.
Thanks for the honest and helpful share.
Oof!! Bruce, this was brutal! Thank you for sharing this story.
Yes, I’ve experienced the same reaction as you from a few clients. The audiences loved me and I ‘assumed’ my speech would lead to more engagements and hopefully deeper work with them. But then…crickets. When this has happened, it’s tough and causes me, like you, to doubt myself.
But I’ve come to accept: If I wasn’t right for ONE KEY decision maker even though 95% of everyone else thought I was great, additional work isn’t going to happen. And, most of the time, that ONE decision maker doesn’t communicate their rationale to me, the bureau, or the event planner. Nada. So, we keep learning, improving, and moving on.
Thanks again Bruce. Bombing builds resilience.
Thank you LIz.
Believe it or not, this is the SECOND time you’ve come to my emotional rescue after an unpleasant experience. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Thank you.
Bruce, I love your honesty and willingness to share. We can’t please everyone. Your audience loved you, which matters most, unfortunately the client didn’t. It’s human nature to dwell on the negative remarks and play them over and over again in our heads. You can get 99 glowing remarks and one bad, and that’s the one you remember most. I’ve learned from being in this business for 30 years that you need to develop a tough hide.
Mixed messages are so hard to understand. I’ve had that happen and I, too, start questioning myself whether I should look for a different profession. But we get over it and move on. It is a lesson learned. Thanks for being so vulnerable and sharing your story. You are good stuff and getting better and better each day!
I guess it depends how you define “bombing on stage.” From the sounds of it, the audience loved you and the client didn’t. Sounds like a mixed bag. It could be they didn’t clearly communicate what they wanted either. But to your point, one takeaway might be to be super clear about expectations at the start to minimize the damage afterwards. I love that you are using this opportunity to reflect and share with other speakers – making this a learning opportunity.
Bruce- great job at being vulnerable by sharing your story. It exemplifies the strength you have as a leader and thought leader. It has happened to me before and in one case I even offered the fee back to the bureau when the client didn’t even ask for it. Reason being was to protect my brand promise of satisfaction guaranteed. Why or how the speech missed the mark was not the only issue for me. I felt the need to pro-actively take action to back up my brand promise.
Bruce, we all know you are an amazing speaker. Thank you for sharing this experience.
Oh my gosh! I had an experience where the meeting planner called me one week prior to the event. The CEO wanted me to change my subject to the sales reps from “you can do this, here’s how” to “it’s your fault.” I protested, but they said, We’ve already paid you. So I changed the presentation. At a break, the meeting planner was pleased. Afterwards, the CEO was pleased. Three weeks later, the email arrived. They had received their surveys back – everyone hated me it seemed, from the way I asked someone to turn off the lights, it was a fail. I called Patricia Fripp to get some condolences and next steps. She said simply, “Why are you calling me?” Call your client. I did and he admitted it was a crappy thing to do to me but he was just relaying the message. Message to me: walk away if anything like this shows up – I know better to be genuine.
Thank you for your transparency. There’s so much truth in what you said, especially if they haven’t bombed they haven’t been in enough stages and/or there’s a disconnect.
This is a great insight. Although I am not that big of a speaker, I have admitted to myself that “I have crushed it” a few times, even though I received good audience feedback. It’s great to know that the-best-of-the-best speakers have experiences with crushing a talk. Thank you for sharing.