A woman stands in front of her book group reading an essay about her experience as an only child. The delivery is a little rough; she mumbles in a few places, stumbles and rushes through. She doesn't connect to the listeners, doesn't notice if they're engaged, but she gets through it.

We're in the living room of an Upper West Side apartment, and David Prete, a professional writer and readings coach, has come to teach 16 widely published writers how to read-not for the sake of literacy but for the sake of their listeners, and better book sales.

"That was good," David says, "But you've got two different voices: one when you're reading your work and one when you're just talking to us."

David knows about reading in public: He's done it extensively as an author, but he's also an actor who, for the past few years, has been passing along to writers some of the skills he's spent the past fifteen years refining on the stage.

"Your talking voice is so much more captivating and expressive," he continues. "When you read, it feels like you're rattling off a list of events and we start to zone out. But when you put down the paper and tell a story, your voice is full of emotion and energy—we're sucked in." The group collectively nods. "I'd like to hear that same talking voice when you read your writing."

"So would I," the woman laughs.

"Great. Let's try an exercise to help get you there."

Her essay deals with the loneliness and disconnection of being an only child. So David tells her to put down her essay and just tell the group a story about another time she felt lonely. She tells the story of an imaginary friend she created when she was four. As she does we hear what David means. Her voice hits more notes her pacing fluctuates and our interest is held.

"Good," he says. "Can you hear the difference in the two voices?"

"Absolutely."

"Now I want you to read the essay again, but use the same voice you just told your story with."

She reads it again and even though it's the second time we've heard the story, it seems new. This time she's speaking more clearly and her pace has slowed down. But she's not there yet. In the middle of a sentence, David says, "Put down the paper and keep going with the story, just tell it to us, don't read it," and she does. Now her voice is hitting highs and lows we haven't heard before, she's delivering her words with urgency, looking us in the eye. "Now go back to the essay." She does and she's more connected to her story, we can hear glimpses of loneliness in her voice, and she's even made it funny. We feel like we're in the hands of a better story teller. There is applause.

"Much better," David says. "We're not quite there yet. There's plenty more we can do, but this is a great start."

Think you can stand to improve your public reading skills? Sign up for David's class "Conquer Your Page Fright:The Art of Reading in Public" in New York April 14!