Where an opening begins: with a blank page
When a client arrives with an introduction they are unhappy about, I rarely start by fixing it. I ask them to put it aside and tell me, out loud and without paper, who will be watching and what they should know by the thirty-second mark. Most people answer in two plain sentences, and those sentences are usually better than anything they wrote.
That spoken answer becomes our raw material. I write it down exactly as it was said, including the odd phrasing, because the rhythm of natural speech is what we are trying to keep. Only afterwards do we look at the script they brought and compare the two versions side by side.
The comparison is rarely harsh. It simply shows where the written draft drifted into formal wording that nobody says in conversation, and where the spoken version already carried the point more directly than the page did. Early autumn is a busy time for this, as many clients are preparing training videos and webinars for the new season.
Three drafts, each with a different job
In a workshop I ask for three short drafts of the same opening instead of one polished attempt. The first is the greeting alone. The second is the greeting followed by the single key message. The third adds a reason for the viewer to keep watching. Each is only a few lines long.
Writing three keeps people from clinging to the first thing that came to mind. It also exposes which element they struggle with most. Some find the greeting easy and stall at the key message; others pile on context before ever saying why the video exists.
We read all three aloud and listen for where the voice relaxes. That moment, usually in the second draft, tells me more than any rule about length or structure could. We keep what sounds easy to say and trim what makes the speaker reach for breath.
- Draft one: greeting only
- Draft two: greeting plus the key message
- Draft three: add a reason to keep watching
Reading it aloud, then reading it to a lens
The next step surprises people: we say the opening several times before anyone touches a camera. The first reading is quiet and slow, just to hear the words. The second is at normal speed, standing up. The third is to an imagined person sitting a few feet away.
Only then do we move to the lens. Even at that stage I keep the first recordings short, thirty seconds at most, so that a poor take costs nothing. Clients often assume a good opening comes from one brave attempt. In practice it comes from many small, forgettable ones.
After each take we watch it together with the sound low first, looking only at posture and eyeline, then again with the sound on. Separating what you see from what you hear makes the feedback easier to take in, because each pass has one question attached to it.
Edits we make again and again
Certain changes turn up in almost every session. A long preamble before the greeting is cut. A name or company description that takes ten seconds to say gets shortened to a clause. Phrases that apologise in advance, such as saying you are not used to this, are removed, since viewers rarely notice nerves until they are pointed out.
We also check the first sentence for words that are hard to say cleanly. If a client trips on a phrase twice, we replace it rather than drilling it, because the script should serve the speaker and not the other way round.
Finally, we mark the pause after the greeting. A short beat before the key message gives the viewer a moment to settle, and it gives the speaker a moment to breathe. Written into the script as a simple slash, it is one of the cheapest improvements we know.
- Cut the preamble before the greeting
- Shorten names and descriptions to a clause
- Remove advance apologies
- Mark one pause before the key message
What clients take home after the session
Every session ends with materials sent afterwards: the final version of the opening, the earlier drafts for reference, and a short note on what we changed and why. Priya's practice packs, which I put together for the workshops, include a one-page routine for rehearsing an opening in five minutes.
I want clients to be able to repeat the process without us. The routine is deliberately plain: speak it, trim it, speak it again, record a short take, watch it twice. Nothing in it requires special equipment beyond a phone or a webcam.
Many people come back a few weeks later with a new video and a new opening, and the second one is usually quicker. That is the real sign the method has worked: the drafting stops feeling like a performance and starts feeling like a habit you own.
Preparing for your own opening
Before a session on introductions, it helps to bring the script you are using now, even if you dislike it, along with a note on who the audience is. If you have an earlier recording, bring that too; seeing a real opening is more useful than describing one.
You do not need to arrive with a finished idea. Most of the useful work happens when we try versions out loud and discard the ones that do not fit your voice. Come ready to speak, to repeat yourself, and to be a little untidy at first.
Wear what you would wear on the day of recording and sit or stand as you normally would for it. Small details like these make the rehearsal closer to the real thing, and they let us catch habits early, while they are still easy to adjust.
A strong opening is rarely written in one sitting. It comes from speaking an idea plainly, drafting it a few ways, trimming what trips you up and recording short takes until it sounds like you. That is how the work is done here, session by session, and it is a process you can carry into every video or live stream you prepare in the weeks ahead.