transitional phrases such as, "I'd like to get back to what so-and-so said..." I think I might try those.
Yes, I've done it that way. Or "I'd like to respond to what_______ said about __________." And the way to draw out the person who is silent is to ask them a specific question. They may only stammer out a few words, or they may come out with a long and interesting answer, but at least they've had some input. And maybe their name in the program is the reason some of the people in the audience chose that panel, and they'll be disappointed if that person never gets a chance to speak after the initial introduction.
Some years ago (I apologize to those of you I may have told this story to before), I was on a panel with Evangeline Walton. For those of you who are too young or who hadn't discovered the genre yet, Evangeline Walton's retellings of four of the stories from the Mabinogion were published back in the '70s by Ballentine's adult fantasy line (which had such a big part in establishing fantasy as a marketing genre). Her books were quite popular when they first came out, at least here in the US, but more importantly they were the inspiration behind the big wave of Celtic fantasy novels that followed soon after and continued for such a long time. Writers that she did not directly inspire were inspired by writers she
had inspired, or by writers who were inspired by writers who were inspired ... and so forth. In other words, she had a huge impact on fantasy, much greater than writers who have since received more credit, and at least among American fantasy writers had an influence that was perhaps only second to Tolkien. But there was no way, in the decades that immediately followed, that a woman who was not at all aggressive in putting herself forward was going to get the same kind of credit for influencing the field that a man would, so she and her works rather lapsed into obscurity, even when the trend she had started was still very much alive. What she did, however, was inspire many other female writers to start writing fantasy. Walton and other women who don't get the kind of fanfare they deserve, like (for instance) Patricia McKillip. (My first three books were Celtic-style fantasy, so Walton was a big influence on me, and so, for that matter, was McKillip whose style I did and do greatly admire.)
At the time I met her she was quite old, but nevertheless went to conventions and SFF events all over the US, travelling on her own though she was physically quite frail. She tended to ramble in her speech. And her appearance was distinctly odd, her skin a bluish-grey as a side effect of some medical treatment she had when she was younger. (The first time I saw her—not to meet her—I thought who
is that old woman with the badly done face paint?)
So there she was with me, on a panel, about twenty years after her books had their first huge impact on the fantasy genre, and you can imagine what it thrill it was. It must have been a panel on women writing fantasy, because all the other panelists were women -- and quite a bit younger than I was. They didn't know what she had done, not only to inspire so much other fantasy, but also to pave the way for their own careers. All they saw was a strange looking little old woman they had never heard of, who rambled in her speech. But me, I was sitting there on a panel with EVANGELINE WALTON, for goodness sake, the Ancestral Mother, the woman who had inspired so many writers of my generation. What an inestimable privilege that was.
But, as I said, whenever she spoke she wandered from the topic, she digressed, she mumbled. Even I was a little impatient at first, until I realized the truth: that she didn't
really wander from the topic, because each time she came to the end of what she was saying it turned out that it had all led into something very much on topic, and interesting, funny, or wise. Mostly wise. It was
always well worth waiting for. But the other women on the panel ignored her, didn't speak to her, would sometimes cut in on what she was saying. It was very difficult for me to keep my temper, watching them show her such disrespect. But I did keep my temper and contented myself, from time to time, with turning to her and saying, "What do YOU think about that Evangeline."
I think my fellow panelists, who seemed to scarcely listen to her, missed out on what should have been a wonderful experience for them (maybe someday later they did find out and were suitably chastened). But there were plenty at the convention who were of an age and involved enough in the SFF culture to know who she was and what she had done, and some of them were in the audience, and no doubt would have been disappointed if she hadn't been given much of a chance to speak.
As I said, she was frail, and the woman who had been assigned by their mutual friends to look after her and see that she made it onto elevators, etc. ended up being busier than she intended, and asked me (and the friend who had travelled with me to the convention) to look after Evangeline some of the time. So we were able to spend a few hours with her, and eat a few dinners with her, and it was so much fun, and so enlightening. I am so
very grateful for the experience. (Which probably wouldn't have been offered to me if I hadn't stood up for her on the panel. Somebody else would have been asked.)
And all this is a very long way of saying: If you offer the panelist who is being ignored and overwhelmed by the others a chance to speak, you might elicit something that is well worth listening to, for you and the audience, if not your self-absorbed fellow panelists.