ABSTRACT
For every broadcaster who has made it to the top of the profession in television or radio, there are hundreds – no, thousands – of hopefuls who would like to be in their shoes. Presenting is often seen from the outside as the top job in broadcasting. It isn’t, of course – the real power lies in the hands of a few men or women who have realized that clawing your way up through the management structure gives you far more control over what actually hits the airwaves. Nonetheless, presenting is where the glamour lies. It can also, at the very top, be where the money lies. But I wouldn’t advise you to go into presenting if you want to get rich. Only a very few reach that level. All the same, whatever kind of presenter you are there is nothing like that heady, if illusory, feeling of being the one who matters. It is your show, and that feels very different from being one of the backroom staff or a reporter or contributor. So what is it that separates the few who actually become presenters from the thousands of wannabes? Is it a matter of looks, talent, personality, being in the right place at the right time, who you know, or even – since this is a book about vocal performance – your voice? Any or all of those things can be helpful. But after watching and listening to and working with a whole variety of presenters, my belief is that in the end it comes down to Ingredient X: something that is
almost impossible to define, but whose presence we can all recognize when we come across it. Presenters often have good voices. But what makes them great presenters is more importantly distinctive voices. We’re really looking at a different kind of voice here, the kind of ‘voice’ people describe writers as eventually finding – the inner voice which is about who you are and what you have to say to the world. Unless you can find that, you will never become more than one of the also-rans.
