I’ve got the SlideShare religion.

Ironically, the use of slides, so often associated with mind-numbing - if not sleep-inducing - oral presentations, makes for a terrific storytelling platform for reading.

Earlier in the year, I posted on “Telling a Story Through Visual Means” that reverse-engineered a charticle in WIRED Magazine.

In a sense, SlideShare encompasses the same concept as a charticle, bringing together visuals and words to tell a story.

But unlike a charticle, SlideShare doesn’t require pure artistry (although artistry will certainly enhance the final product).

For business, the slide platform allows you to craft a story in a form that the reader can consume in a minute or two or three. The crisp pace of a SlideShare deck often comes from the actual type serving as the visual.

I would be remiss if I didn’t also highlight the benefits that come from SlideShare fitting under the social media umbrella. 

You can’t tag or follow a charticle.  

We’re putting greater emphasis on this communications vehicle for both our clients and ourselves. In fact, you can view the Agency’s credentials story which just went live on SlideShare.

Many thanks to our Singapore office, which did the heavy lifting on creating the credentials deck.

We believe it tells our story in a fashion that brings out our unique way of thinking and personality, deploying the techniques of storytelling - conversational, fun with language, etc. - that we’ve been evangelizing for some time.

Let us know what you think.

Sidenote: While there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of outstanding stories on Slideshare, one in particular, “Shift Happens,” provided much of our inspiration. There’s a reason this deck has almost 1 million views.

Back in 2008 I wrote it’s not enough that Warren Buffet has become one of the richest men in the world. He’s also a world-class storyteller. (If it makes you feel any better, at least he’s not handsome.)

Nowhere does this gift go on public display more than in his annual letter to shareholders.

It’s worth setting aside 30 minutes to absorb the 20 pages like a novella.

But I’ve cherry-picked the slices of narrative that I found particularly amusing, starting with Buffet’s philosophy:

Long ago, Charlie laid out his strongest ambition: “All I want to know is where I’m going to die, so I’ll never go there.” That bit of wisdom was inspired by Jacobi, the great Prussian mathematician, who counseled “Invert, always invert” as an aid to solving difficult problems. (I can report as well that this inversion approach works on a less lofty level: Sing a country song in reverse, and you will quickly recover your car, house and wife.)

He’s right.

I just tried this with a Merle Haggard tune and it works, a sad reminder that no matter how many times I played the Beatles song “I Am The Walrus” backwards, I could never make out “Paul is dead.”

This next one isn’t as entertaining but shows the power of conversational language:

We tend to let our many subsidiaries operate on their own, without our supervising and monitoring them to any degree. That means we are sometimes late in spotting management problems and that both operating and capital decisions are occasionally made with which Charlie and I would have disagreed had we been consulted. Most of our managers, however, use the independence we grant them magnificently, rewarding our confidence by maintaining an owner oriented attitude that is invaluable and too seldom found in huge organizations. We would rather suffer the visible costs of a few bad decisions than incur the many invisible costs that come from decisions made too slowly – or not at all – because of a stifling bureaucracy.

There’s no double-talk.

He explains his approach to management, acknowledging the periodic downside.

BTW, I defy you to find another shareholder letter that includes the word “magnificently.”

But quintessential Buffet occurs when he turns to self-deprecation as a mechanism to disarm:

And now a painful confession: Last year your chairman closed the book on a very expensive business fiasco entirely of his own making.

For many years I had struggled to think of side products that we could offer our millions of loyal GEICO customers. Unfortunately, I finally succeeded, coming up with a brilliant insight that we should market our own credit card. I reasoned that GEICO policyholders were likely to be good credit risks and, assuming we offered an attractive card, would likely favor us with their business. We got business all right – but of the wrong type.

Our pre-tax losses from credit-card operations came to about $6.3 million before I finally woke up. We then sold our $98 million portfolio of troubled receivables for 55¢ on the dollar, losing an additional $44 million.

GEICO’s managers, it should be emphasized, were never enthusiastic about my idea. They warned me that instead of getting the cream of GEICO’s customers we would get the – – – – – well, let’s call it the non-cream. I subtly indicated that I was older and wiser.

I was just older.

Forget the shareholders.

Imagine how this mea culpa played with Geico’s executives who were originally overruled. Something about seeing the big boss fall on his sword allows everyone to move on.

And I love the pacing of this narrative.

Deeper in the letter he discusses the over supply in the housing market:

There were three ways to cure this overhang: (1) blow up a lot of houses, a tactic similar to the destruction of autos that occurred with the “cash-for-clunkers” program; (2) speed up household formations by, say, encouraging teenagers to cohabitate, a program not likely to suffer from a lack of volunteers or; (3) reduce new housing starts to a number far below the rate of household formations.

The man has a sense of humor and he’s not afraid to use it, a trait that surfaces again in this ditty:

Naturally, our fellows caved in and agreed to this value-destroying deal. “We need to show that we are in the hunt. Besides, it’s only a small deal,” they said, as if only major harm to shareholders would have been a legitimate reason for holding back. Charlie’s reaction at the time: “Are we supposed to applaud because the dog that fouls our lawn is a Chihuahua rather than a Saint Bernard?”

Of course, the letter is peppered with one-line zingers like:

Charlie and I enjoy issuing Berkshire stock about as much as we relish prepping for a colonoscopy.

Even if you’re not a middle-aged man, you get the drift.

Stepping back, what allows the storytelling to come through?

First, Buffet is true to himself. To borrow from the social media world, he’s absolutely authentic which comes through in his narrative.

Plus, he writes with a conversational tone. He’s not trying to come off as the smartest guy in the room.

And finally, he uses an element in short supply in business, humor. I’m not talking Robin Williams nanu nanu humor but the type of that makes you crack a smile.

Note: I penned a guest post on this very same topic that ran on VentureBeat yesterday. In the home-turf version, I drop in large chunks of Buffett’s narrative so you can see how the words are strung together. I suppose this version also goes for an extra-cheap smile (laugh is too strong a word).

I wrote about Warren Buffett’s gift for storytelling last year.

If executives would simply take one lesson from Buffett’s communications, be conversational, the world would be a better place (cue the Coke music).

In his most recent letter to shareholders (2008), there’s a paragraph that showcases Mr. Buffett at his best.

All of us have read countless pieces about the economic downturn. They typically consist of rhetoric from politicians and jargon-filled analysis from economists.

Now, look at how Buffett couches the situation:

This debilitating spiral has spurred our government to take massive action. In poker terms, the Treasury and the Fed have gone “all in.” Economic medicine that was previously meted out by the cupful has recently been dispensed by the barrel. These once-unthinkable dosages will almost certainly bring on unwelcome aftereffects. Their precise nature is anyone’s guess, though one likely consequence is an onslaught of inflation. Moreover, major industries have become dependent on Federal assistance, and they will be followed by cities and states bearing mind-boggling requests. Weaning these entities from the public teat will be a political challenge. They won’t leave willingly.

Love the poker metaphor which brings both color and a double entendre to the topic at hand.

Great line, “…the Fed have gone all in.” You don’t have to spend time with Norman Chad watching the World Series of Poker on ESPN to get the drift.

The man knows how to turn a phrase and build drama: “Weaning these entities from the public teat will be a political challenge. They won’t leave willingly.”

For contrast, turn to the August 25 post from the blog of Peter Orszag, the director of the Office of Management and Budget:

First, let’s consider this year’s deficit. We now expect that the policies put in place to repair the financial system are likely to cost taxpayers less than previously anticipated. In particular, we have decided to remove from the budget a placeholder for further financial stabilization efforts that seemed prudent earlier this year.

Good stage-setting and everyday language (even if the word “prudent” seems like a hangover from the Bush administration).

He goes on to say:

The net result is a $262 billion improvement in the projected 2009 deficit. The 2009 deficit is now projected to be $1.58 trillion – or 11.2 percent of GDP – down from a previously projected $1.84 trillion or 12.9 percent of GDP.

I don’t know about you, but I feel better knowing the deficit has been chiseled down to $1.58 trillion.

OK, so far so good to this point.

But all of the sudden the conversation takes a detour to Narrative Hell:

As a result of a deeper-than-expected recession, certain spending programs (such as unemployment insurance and food stamps) are projected to automatically increase and revenues are projected to automatically decline, compared to our previous projection. Although these effects help to ameliorate the economic downturn by stimulating demand, they also lead to higher medium-term deficits both directly and indirectly (through higher interest costs on a higher level of public debt). Over the next 10 years, the net impact is to add $2 trillion to the projected deficit, compared to our last projection made based on February’s economic assumptions.That brings the projected 10-year deficit for 2010-2019 to $9.05 trillion – in line with CBO’s June projection.

As my high school English teacher would say, “too many moving parts.”

And what’s with “ameliorate?” I don’t think Mr. Orszag got the memo that the administration is striving to appeal to Middle America.

Needless to say, he’s not from the Warren Buffett school of storytelling.

I stumbled across a compelling three-and-a-half-minute video with NPR’s Scott Simon sharing his perspective on how to tell a story (video below).

It’s captivating, as reflected in the 43,000+ views.

Before going further, let’s acknowledge that Scott Simon’s voice by itself is captivating. He could explain a recipe for nouveau meatloaf and I’d listen. Plus, anyone who writes about baseball and Jackie Robinson gets a good-egg vote.

With that said, I like what he had to say about storytelling:

• A story should make a point, which is different from a lesson, moral or punch line.
• The beginning should be crisp.
• Give people vivid detail. This is what enables others to repeat the story.
• Maintain a conversational tone.
• Have fun. Enjoy the sense of discovery that comes from storytelling.

The idea of crafting a story in breathable chunks also makes sense (although I can’t say the metaphor of a swim across the English Channel worked for me).

You can find his storytelling in motion on NPR at “Simon Says.”

PR consultancies are notorious for not applying their craft to building their own brands.

I’d like to think we’re an exception to the rule.

Equally important, we strive to bring the art of storytelling to our own communications as well as our clients.

As a result, we’ve enjoyed attention in publications ranging from the New York Times to CFO Magazine to USA Today and one my favorite passages (related to conducting business in China):

“It took us a good two years to get our WOFE in place in China. The twists and turns to the finish line were Kafkaesque. As part of the application, they ask for three potential names for the WOFE. Of course, the government ends up selecting a completely different name (from what we submitted) that sounds like a dim sum restaurant. Fortunately, with the right connections behind the scenes we were able to secure the right name.”

Thanks to the rise of digital media, the corresponding demand for content opens the door to more opportunities for contributed pieces.

Toward this end, today’s BusinessWeek (of the digital variety) features my op-ed entitled, “Small Biz to Washington: About Those Promises…”.

I discussed the importance of storytelling in an op-ed using AIG’s contribution to the Washington Post as an example. I’m a big believer in keeping the narrative conversational and having fun with language which hopefully comes out in the BusinessWeek op-ed with phrases such as the following:

“President Obama campaigned on an I-Will-Help-Main-Street platform”

“… to borrow from Shakespeare, here’s the rub on the $15 billion package.”

“If we learned anything from the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) last year - never a good sign when an acronym rhymes with carp - it’s that pumping large sums of money into the banks by itself is not the answer to the credit crunch.”

“If someone wants to take on the burger chains with yet another beef-between-bun venture I can appreciate taking a pass on funding.”

“… regain the black on the balance sheet.”

I wanted to work in “Brother can you spare a dime” but decided it fell under the category of “cheap parlor tricks” so took a pass.