Think of cartoons as storytelling, and you probably think of animation or graphic novels. (You won’t get much argument here: my kids and I spent months enraptured by Noelle Stevenson’s “Nimona,” and we’ve probably watched every episode of “Shaun the Sheep” a dozen times.)

But single-panel cartoons are stories, too: just really distilled ones. And drawing them for eight years has taught me a ton about storytelling — which in turn has taught me a lot about speechwriting, helping me connect with audiences whenever I put down the stylus and put on my communicator’s hat.

Here are six of the key lessons I’ve learned along the way, and the cartoons that helped to teach me:

1. Surprise me.

Confounding expectations is a big part of a cartoon. You think an idea is going one direction, and discover it was headed somewhere else entirely. Here, you think at first this is someone in awe of nature… and then realize nope, they’re in awe of its financial potential.


That works with speeches, too. We love the twist that recasts everything before it in a whole new light: think back to “The Sixth Sense” or “The Usual Suspects.” We love to be surprised. If your speech unfolds exactly as expected, you’ve missed a chance to enthrall your audience. Worse, you’ll probably bore them.

2. The reader’s the hero.

The cartoons I hear the most about are the ones where people identified with the characters’ situations. For instance, if the thought of your inbox fills you with anxiety, maybe you’ll relate to this:

(woman on ledge) I have 175,682 unread emails. You tell me what I have to live for.

Your audience should see themselves in your speech. And if you want to lead them to action (and not just a rueful smile) then make them active protagonists, not passive victims; show them how taking that action resolves a conflict and gives them a happy ending.

3. Cut.

Nearly every caption that fills me with regret is a long one that I wish I’d made shorter. Heck, if I could figure out a way to trim this one, I would:

(group of people holding a candlelight vigil) Twitter's down.

Everything in your speech should serve a purpose. If a detail or a moment isn’t pulling its weight (say, by helping to create a picture, by lending emotional heft or by improving retention through repetition), cut it. At best, it’s dragging you down; at worst, it’s putting you off your core narrative.

4. Don’t tell it all.

Much of what makes many cartoons funny is that they leave just a little bit missing for the audience to figure out: a small gap in the circuit. The audience fills that bit in — like the information that McCormack just always asks if what’s on offer is meat-free.

(officer briefing soldiers) Now, in case of capture, you've been issued with suicide capsules... and yes, McCormack, they're 100% vegan.

When the reader (or listener) completes the circuit, the cognitive spark of realization helps trigger or amplify laughter — or, depending on the story, a jump of surprise, gasp of horror or surge of sympathy.

The result for you is a lot more emotional impact, and an audience that’s listening that much more intently for the next spark.

5. Cop an attitude.

Nearly every cartoon takes some kind of stand. And readers want them to, especially if that stand reflects a value they share. It could be something as serious as unease over surveillance… or as trivial as being fed up with retweet contests:

(marketers brainstorming) Suppose we run a contest where people retweet our ad repeatedly, and the winner's whoever loses the most followers.

If all you’re doing is relating the facts, you’ll have a pretty bloodless speech. But when you convey your speaker’s emotion and attitude as well, and when that attitude lines up with your audience’s, you can forge a strong connection with them.

6. Create pictures.

Obvious for a cartoonist? Maybe. But I often struggle to make the images carry at least as much of the humor as the caption. The payoff when I do is a funnier cartoon. This one, for example, would still work without the over-the-top majestic scenery, but the eagle and those mountains do a lot to magnify the joke:

(woman in kayak in the middle of beautiful wilderness) Well, dammit. I feel totally blissed out over being disconnected from the Internet, and I have no way to lord it over my friends on Facebook.

Your speech may not include actual photos (although thanks to the miracle of PowerPoint, it certainly could). But adding even a little sensory detail can make it feel far more immediate and real to your audience — and much more powerful.

Adapted from my guest blog post on storytelling at Shonali Burke’s Waxing UnLyrical. Her blog is a terrific resource — geared to PR, but valuable for communicators of all stripes. Do go check it out!