Member stories

As a solopreneur, I live in my head. Everything makes perfect sense in the internal conversations I have with myself.

In September, I launched a content solutions company. Beyond larger projects like operations manuals and audit templates, I developed a new offering: collaborative writing sessions for individuals who don’t have the bandwidth to write themselves but still want to share their authentic knowledge. It was brilliant, at least in my head. I knew exactly how it worked, why clients needed it, and what made it different from traditional writing services.

Then I tried to explain it at a regional networking event. I meandered through AI assistance, then circled back to client expertise, mentioned Google Meet somewhere in the middle, and somehow landed on interview questions. It was a messy outpouring of tangled ideas. I couldn't articulate it clearly enough for anyone else to understand why it mattered. And if I couldn't explain it in a casual conversation, how would I ever pitch it to a potential client?

The Seven-Minute Forcing Function

This scenario speaks to one of my favorite benefits of Toastmasters: the forcing function of the seven-minute speech.

Toastmasters is an international organization that helps members improve their speaking skills, meeting them at whatever level they're at. But it's also a laboratory for clarity. The format forces you to think clearly because you must speak clearly — and you can't speak clearly about fuzzy ideas.

Before you give a presentation, you should set aside time and attention to map out how you’ll guide your audience through your message. Skipping this step risks a rambling show-and-tell of scattered ideas and ums and ahs (the dreaded "filler words").

The speeches often follow the familiar structure of introduction, two or three main points, and a conclusion. It’s the time limit that forces clarity. You're fitting those concepts into a five- to seven-minute presentation. If the intro and conclusion each take about 30 seconds, that leaves four to six minutes to express the main ideas.

The umpire in this format is the timing light and its green-yellow-red signals. The “light” manifests as cards, a Zoom background, or literally a portable traffic light, depending upon the meeting format and the club’s equipment. Green means you’ve reached the minimum speaking time, yellow says you’re nearing the max, and red yells, “Time’s up! Wrap it up in 30 seconds or you’re disqualified.”

Clarity Through Constraints

When I tried to compress my new service into a structured, seven-minute presentation, I discovered I was assuming people understood things I'd never actually explained. My presentation was a draft of a pitch I might give to professional organizations, asking them to share my service with their members.

Designing a pitch for a time limit involves choosing the right quantity of words. Cramming in more words faster doesn’t count. I’ve rushed through speeches before, trying to fit in all the words before the light turns red, like a legalese disclaimer at the end of a commercial. The feedback was, “Whoa! Slow down! You speak really quickly. I couldn’t process everything you said.”

With the constraints of the timer and that looming, red light, I can’t both slow down AND use more words. I had to make choices. Which details were essential? Which were just interesting to me but didn't help someone understand the value? What was the actual problem I was solving, and could I state it in one sentence?

The time limit also meant I had to know my topic well enough to not completely rely on my slides; otherwise I risked bumbling through a point, dropping in filler words, and using up valuable minutes.

Articulation Precedes Execution

You can't build what you can't clearly say.

This seems obvious when stated plainly, but we often jump from idea to execution, assuming we'll figure out how to explain it along the way. We build the website, create the service packages, maybe even line up our first clients, all while still fumbling through our explanation of what we actually do.

Harnessing the Toastmasters program and its timer's constraint distilled my writing service into a clear seven-minute pitch. I chose essential details over interesting tangents and articulated what I was solving in ways a stranger could understand. That has allowed me to recruit several associates to pilot the service, moving me a step toward selling the service. It all came from being able to articulate the offer.

About the Toastmaster: Michelle Haynes

Michelle Haynes operates Michelle Haynes Content Solutions, a consultancy specializing in AI-augmented workflows that transform institutional knowledge into structured documentation. She has been a member of Toastmasters since the early 2000s and joined Startup Speakers Toastmasters in February, 2025. She currently serves as vice president of public relations. Learn more at michellehaynes.com.