The Egg, a fictional short story by Andy Weir, first appeared on his website, Galactanet, on August 15, 2009. It remains his most famous work, translated into over 30 languages. Its depth demands a delivery that matches its gravity.
The Egg is a popular short philosophical fiction piece by Andy Weir. It posits that every human who has ever lived or will live is a single, reincarnating entity experiencing all of time to mature into a god. The entire universe is a giant egg being used to incubate your soul.
There are two characters, and in my speech, I attempted to play both.
Imagine: you die suddenly in a car accident. Nothing dramatic. No slow-motion finale. One second, you’re here. The next, you’re gone—waking up not in a hospital or the afterlife but somewhere beyond comprehension. Standing there, calm as ever, is me. Or rather, God.
You ask questions: “What happens now? Was my life good enough?”
I look at you, amused, and say, “You’re going back.”
You’re confused. “Where?”
“Back to Earth, or what you perceive as Earth. But not as yourself.”
You don’t get it at first, so I explain. “You’ll be someone from the past or future. It doesn’t matter. Because every person who has ever lived, every person you’ve ever met, that’s you. Every king, every beggar, every villain, every hero. Every kind soul, every cruel heart. Man. Woman.”
You are not satisfied. I continue.
“This entire universe is like an egg. It exists for you to grow. Every life teaches you something: empathy, kindness, and resilience. You’ll be ready when you’ve lived them all, when you’ve been everyone and felt everything.”
You stare at me, stunned. “Ready?”
“Ready to hatch and become like me.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what you are. You aren’t merely a part of the universe—you embody every aspect. And one day, you’ll create one of your own.”
Then, I send you back. A new life begins, and the cycle continues. You can see the video here.
That’s it. That’s The Egg.
Simple, isn’t it? The core message is that harming others means harming yourself. Every act of kindness is also an act of kindness toward yourself. Every experience is ultimately one that you will experience.
So I thought I’d give a speech as both characters. Reflecting on the original message, I realized my delivery needed to mirror the narrative’s depth.
It didn’t.
Although my message was intact, my execution faltered.
First, making eye contact felt daunting, so I glanced around the room, searching for engagement. My performance anxiety and inexperience in delivering a one-person show with two characters revealed my lack of preparedness. As a result, the physical transitions between God and Man (who was who?) were clunky, trapping listeners in awkward gaps. I had planned to avoid locking eyes with anyone, yet I looked at everyone.
Second, I could have used my movement more effectively to define The Egg’s characters. Pacing back and forth at the beginning would show the narrator’s disbelief, and standing centred would embody God’s calm authority.
Third, simple props, neutral attire (such as a dark T-shirt, jeans, and shoes), or subtle changes in body language could have helped with character transitions. Pauses could amplify key moments, like in the exchange:
These adjustments would have made me more dynamic and impactful. But I didn’t do any of that.
SCOPES: The Framework for Shaping Your Storytelling
So, I developed SCOPES—scope in on your speech.
The SCOPES approach provides a straightforward framework to guide you through the process, ensuring your words have a lasting impact. This method is an effective form of communication because it requires more than just information in a world filled with distractions and noise—it demands clarity, connection, and emotion.
In my next blog, I will reveal SCOPES.
Richard Tardif is the author of six books. Born in St. John’s, Newfoundland, in 1960, he was raised in Montreal from 1964. He has worked in the military, journalism, publishing, and public speaking, including Toastmasters. His writing has appeared in literary fiction and journalistic contexts. He lives in Montreal, where he continues to write.
