The First Step to Effective Hosting
I’ve always thought that being a radio or podcast host is a bit like getting up on a stage and explaining your passion while the audience critiques your outfit. You want people listening to share your enthusiasm, to learn something, to laugh with you about a joke or to just enjoy your company. Instead, you often get unsolicited feedback about your vocal delivery or the way you pronounced “mayonnaise.” Did they even hear what you were saying? That kind of feedback exacerbates self doubt for work that already requires a difficult combination of confidence and emotional openness. Not surprisingly, the first thing audio professionals ask us is, “how can I be a better host?”
There are strategies that can improve your delivery, but before we get to the first step, I think it’s important to take a step back for a minute to talk about mental preparation. Everyone’s voice is listenable in its own right, no matter the regional accent, the pitch of the voice or the delivery style. Each person has an idea of merit. I have no doubt you’ve said these things to someone you were interviewing who was a bit nervous. Now remind yourself. Some people carry this knowledge confidently day to day and don’t need reminders. Most people, myself included, are not like that. Every time you step up to the microphone, take a few slow breaths to prepare and remember that your voice is listenable and that you have a story worth sharing. Tactical tips to improve your radio and podcast hosting skills won’t make any difference unless you’ve done this mental preparation.
Once you’ve mentally prepared to speak in front of a microphone, there’s one step that has a better return on investment than any other tactical strategy for improving hosting skills than any other I’ve coached: speak to an audience of one.
When we’re in front of a radio or podcast microphone, I think we often confuse it for a public address microphone. We imagine the total number of people who may be listening to us and we speak to them as if they’re all in a room together. We project our voice loudly so that the last seat in the imaginary theater can hear us, even though that’s unnecessary because that’s the job of the microphone fader or level. We ask rhetorical questions of a group. We imagine a faceless mob. The experience of a radio or podcast listener is the exact opposite. Usually it’s a solitary activity: one person speaking to you in your earbuds, headphones or speaker. So, hosts, talk to just one person.
Here’s an example from a NPR’s Morning Edition from Aug. 31, 2022:
HOST: “What does summer taste like around the world? For a lot of us, it's watermelon. And in the Gaza Strip, there's a watermelon delicacy that NPR's Daniel Estrin wanted to try. He sent us this postcard…”
What followed was a terrific story full of juicy details and memorable sounds. Honestly, the sound of grilling food has to be one of the most sensory-rich experiences you can offer in audio. But the intro? Totally forgettable. It actually undersold an outstanding story. Did you answer the rhetorical question in your head about what summer tastes like? Did you have time to think about it? No and no. Who is “a lot of us?” Isn’t it just you and me? Also, why should we care about this story? A successful radio show or podcast keeps people listening. They listen when they care because there’s a promise that this information is important to them in particular. Not just important, like it’s important (for all U.S. taxpayers) to know the IRS tax filing deadline. Important to YOU in particular.
Imagine if the producer had written this story intro for an audience of one. I find it helpful to imagine a very specific listener, based on what you know of your subscriber or audience data. Here’s a rewrite where I imagined the listener being the driver of the car I saw ahead of me as they headed to work on one of the last days of North American summer.
HOST: “Outdoor grilling has to be one of the very best sounds and smells of summer, right? Burgers caramelizing or a juicy vegetable kabob searing. I love sweet peaches on the grill. In the Gaza Strip, the best thing on the grill is watermelon. Here’s NPR’s Daniel Estrin with the story…”
If this wasn’t an audio story, I could imagine saying these very words to the guy in the car ahead of me (up until “Here’s NPR’s Daniel Estrin with the story”). His interest in the story would be piqued because the language is more vivid and uses his other, non-hearing senses. He would care about this story because he likes grilling and might like to try grilling watermelon, plus he’s curious to learn more about the Gaza Strip. Finally, this guy would want to keep listening because he’s feeling the one-to-one companionship of audio. The host offered that they like to grill peaches while the listener thinks about what he likes to grill. Sharing information in both directions is an act of friendship.
Here’s the takeaway: To level up your hosting, take time for mental preparation. Then rewrite your script or show notes as if you were talking to just one, specific person.
