In a palatial venue in Miami some years ago, surrounded by lush palms and creeping vines, I sat down to watch the father of the bride deliver his toast. It began uneventfully, with the usual welcomes and thank yous. And then, as so often happens, it became a trainwreck. It was clear, as he rambled, that he had thought through neither the content nor the specific words of his toast. And then, the coup de grâce: “I always wanted a son, but it all turned out fine because my daughter was good at sports.”
As a speechwriter, I am perhaps overly obsessed with the quality of the toasts at a wedding. I’m judging the structure, the delivery, the stories, the meaning. And each time I sit through the insults of a drunk best man or the rhyming poem by a bride’s camp friends, I wonder, “Why isn’t anyone editing this shit?”
Couples plan their weddings down to the tiniest detail. But when it comes to toasts, they usually just ask a few people to speak, put them in order, and leave it there—at the expense of their own joy and their guests’ sanity.
If you were planning a professional event, you’d probably have someone talk to the speakers about to make sure they weren’t going to (a) do a poem, (b) wing it, or (c) talk about the first time you menstruated. But at weddings, we resign ourselves to hearing at least one of the standard forms of Terrible Wedding Toast: the I Didn’t Prepare Anything Because I wanted to Speak from the Heart; the Robotic Recitation; the WTF Did You Really Just Say That.
I’m often asked by friends or family for helping with a toast or vows. And it has proven fruitful—I’ve crossed out many an insult to the bride or groom and helped steer people towards the sentimental. My friend Matt, who asked me for help with his vows, told me, “My marriage would not have been off to a good start if you hadn’t cut that line about my wife never cleaning the lint filter.” As I said to Matt—and to anyone who asks for edits—there are two big rules: Don’t insult the bride, and what makes people cry is more important than what makes them laugh.
But the individuals who have the wisdom to ask for help are not generally the people who need the most help. It’s the overconfident, the clueless, and the drunkards who actually need guidance.
We can put an end to the madness. Enter: the Wedditor.
The Wedditor isn’t there to write people’s speeches for them, or to assign topics across the lineup. The Wedditor is a sanity check and a helping hand—a person to talk to speakers and check in on them. It’s someone to bounce ideas off of, give advice, and steer speakers in the right direction—away from the meaningless or hurtful tidbits and towards the profound and loving stories.
Another cost for the wedding, you’re thinking? No. This won’t cost a thing. Couples usually have a good sense which of their speakers is going to be great—or at the very least, sane and reliable. Ask that person to do the job. The reality is that most speakers (golfing fathers aside) would be delighted to have the help. And those people who are good at speaking—those people you’d ask to help—they love doing this.
Giving a toast can be terrifying, whether because of the emotional intimacy or the fear that you’re going to disappoint your loved ones. And it is absolutely, forgivably, completely normal to be scared of telling people that you genuinely love them—especially in front of countless strangers.
And because there’s no custom around planning or thinking about the content of the speeches, speakers also tend to worry in silence—because they are embarrassed about their lack of ideas, their writing ability, or that because they abhor public speaking.
That’s where an editor—like any editor, in any writing situation—can help wedding speakers find their voice and where, needed, provide a boost of confidence.
If the whole idea sounds cynical to you, consider that we tend to conflate spontaneity with sincerity. This is the same instinct that drives people into their “speaking from the heart” nonsense. Doing a tiny bit of planning around the speeches doesn’t take any magic out of them; it creates the condition where magic happens.
Wedding toasts are special, both for the couple and the speakers. They give us a chance to break the customs of daily life, in which elaborate, composed tributes would be out of place or incredibly awkward. Toasts are a powerful and unique way to demonstrate and receive love. We owe it to each other to make those moments as powerful and memorable as we can—and to read them from an actual sheet of paper, for Pete’s sake.