101 TIWIK #11: What the Heck is Voice?

When I started learning how to write, one word came up over and over again: voice. 

For years, I heard that word, was vaguely terrified by it, ignored it and kept writing. I didn’t really understand what it meant or what all the fuss was about. I just knew that I had to develop it or I wouldn’t really be a writer, and I had no idea how to do that when I didn’t even know what it was.

Years later, a clear understanding of voice struck me like an epiphany: It’s the sound in your head of the author telling you the story.

If that doesn’t make sense yet, imagine the voice of your favorite radio personality. (Mine is Ira Glass). Now imagine them talking to you. That voice is distinct, isn’t it? There are unmistakable mannerisms in the way they talk that sets them apart. Even if you’ve never seen their face, you’d never mistake Ira Glass for Howard Stern, or the Car Talk guys for Garrison Keillor.

The same is true for an author’s voice, but because we rarely hear them, the effect is more subtle. Perhaps that is why author readings are so popular–it’s a chance for the readers to truly hear the author’s voice. 

Here’s a couple of snippets from popular children’s books:

“Then she felt a set of long whiskers tickling her cheek and saw the cold daylight coming in through the mouth of the cave. But immediately after that she was very wide awake indeed, and so was everyone else.”

“There was no wind along the creek. The air was still and drowsy-warm. It smelled of damp roots and mud, and it was full of the sound of rustling leaves and of the water running.”

These two passages are written in a very similar style, but they do each have their own distinct voice. The sentence structures and word choices are different. The first conveys a sense of adventure, the second comfort. The first is from C.S. Lewis’  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; the second is from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prarie. 

What is the difference between voice and style? Voice is unique to an author, but style is linked to audience. The style with which you speak is determined by to whom you are speaking. C.S. Lewis and Laura Ingalls Wilder are both speaking to children; therefore their style is similar, even though their voices are distinct. Think of it like this: if you are giving a talk to a group of bankers, you’ll use a different style of speaking than if you’re talking to your best friend. It’s still you talking, and your voice will still be there, but your style will be different.

Another term that gets confused with voice is tone. Tone is more akin to the mood of a particular scene, and it can vary within a work.

Every author, and I imagine every radio personality as well, develops the voice that we know and love by writing, or talking, a lot. I recently saw Ira Glass give a talk, and he played us a clip from one of his earlier radio shows. While it was undoubtedly Ira Glass’s voice, you could tell the difference from his current voice. The young Ira was less confident, more wordy, more technical in his vocabulary. It was kind of like hearing someone new to reporting try to mimic what Ira does now. 

When I look back at my earlier writings, I hear the same thing–an immature voice, trying to sound mature, using big words and often using them wrong, too wordy, sentences not quite working in concert, ideas not quite clear. There are the seeds in those early writings of my current voice, but it’s not developed.

So how do you develop your voice as a writer?

Read and write.

When you read, really listen to the author speaking to you. Analyze different authors and compare their voices, as well as what elements comprise the differences. Is it sentence length? Word choice? Particular images? Use of exposition? Then take a paragraph of your own writing and re-write it, trying to mimic each different author’s voice. You’ll be surprised by how easy it is, and how clearly the activity reveals voice. Then you’ll start to see how subtle changes you make to your own writing affect your own voice. You’ll find places in your writing where your voice really shines through, and those patches will grow until you’re writing becomes truly yours.

Perhaps my best validation that I was a writer came when my freelance editor, herself a traditionally published fantasy author, told me this regarding my voice in Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern: “This is one area where you shine. Your writing is vivid and assured.” She had about 20 pages of comments regarding the other areas, so I was happy to shine in at least one. 

And that’s the tricky thing about voice–it’s hard to know how you sound. Remember how weird it is to hear your voice played back in a recording? Imagine if you could do that with your writing. Actually, there are a couple of tricks. You can read your writing out loud. You can even record yourself reading out loud and listen to it. This is a great way to iron out weird syntax things. If you have the time, you can set things aside for awhile and then read them again. If enough time has passed, you can truly “hear” the writing in a way you can’t when it’s too fresh. And finally, you can share it and get feedback. Ask your writing buddies to comment on your voice. If you’re lucky enough to have a few people who have watched your writing develop over the years, they’ll be able to tell you if your voice has changed. 

What is your experience with voice? Has it been a struggle to develop? Do you have any tricks you used to get your writing to sound the way you wanted it to?

Tomorrow: Things get serious with 101 TIWIK #12: The Four Elements of Storytelling: Plot, Character, Setting and Theme.

This post is part of a series of 101 Things I Wish I’d Known Before I Wrote My First Book. Start reading the series at the beginning.