A few weeks back I went to a reading where someone asked one of the big questions.
When I say “the big questions”, I mean one of the questions that get asked at a lot of readings. Go to enough author events and you’re bound to hear one, if not all, of these. Someone really should make a bingo card.
Big Question Number 1: “Who are your influences?”
This question usually isn’t as interesting as you’d think. There are a lot of authors out there, but there are also a lot of authors we all know about. When someone says “Hemingway was an influence” it’s pretty uninspiring, right?
I guess people are trying to uncover something good, something that either taught the writer something or someone the writer enjoys. That’s why I prefer the question, “What have you read lately that you think is really great?”
Big Question Number 2: “Any talk of making Book X into a movie?”
Authors almost never have a real answer. Because the answer is usually, “Yes, but also I’m not really involved in an interesting way.” Because the thorough answer is very often, “Well, I sold the rights, and now it’ll either be a huge hit with Brad Pitt, a Pitt Hitt, as they’re known, an indie of some kind that’s enjoyed by critics and people who see 800 movies every year, or it’ll never be made into a movie, ever, and I really have very little control over the outcomes here.”
And finally, Big Question Number 3: “How did you find your voice?”
It’s Number 3 that got asked at the reading a few weeks ago, and it’s one I’ve been thinking about since.
A former teacher was hosting the reading, and afterward we talked. She made a great comparison that she uses with students. Voice has to do with your life being like a map of the world, and if you think of your life as a world map, there are all these different things going all, all these landmasses and oceans, and there’s weather and maybe, if it’s an old-timey map, one of those sea dragon things. And if you think about a person as being a map, voice is what comes from all that personal geography. There’s a voice in there.
I probably butchered that a little. Or a lot.
But I agree with her answer. I think voice is something that everyone has naturally.
Think about, if you were to stand up and ask an author a question, how would you form the question in your head? Because that question was asked in your voice. It’s impossible that it wasn’t. Unless you were thinking, “I’m going to ask this question like…Michael Keaton. Or Stallone.”
By the way, stranger at the reading, if that was your Stallone impression, it was lousy. Needs work.
What I’m saying is, you have several voices already.
You have a speaking voice. How did you find that? Is it something you actively sought out, cultivated, or is it something that just sort of…happened?
Take it a little further. More elemental. When you stood to ask the question, how much did you think about how you stand up? There’s a way you do it, and it’s a way that’s individual to you. Maybe you put your hands on your knees and push with your arms. Maybe you stay bent over, the way you’ll see tall people stand, until your legs are straight, and then you stood up from the waist. Maybe you grunted or let some air out. Maybe your eyes looked toward the ceiling or the floor or straight ahead.
The point is, your body has a voice already. If you’re able to stand, you’re doing it your way. A baby’s body stands differently than a teenager’s. An old man stands differently than he did when he was young.
The point is, the way you stand up, it’s informed by countless different things. If you hurt your back, it’s different. If you’re wearing a coat, it’s different. If you’re holding in a fart, it’s different. If you’re wearing tall shoes, it’s different.
Your voice, the one that comes out when you talk, it’s the same way. It’s built of all these different pieces, and it’s always changing. It’s a structure that’s always being built. Your brain is tearing down unused portions, adding on when a phrase or a word or something comes into use for you. You get a new job and different jargon falls into place. You have in-jokes with a partner, and after you break up, you don’t use that language anymore.
There are other pieces too. Everyone has some bits left over from their parents. I say, “Shoes, socks, service” when it’s time to leave the house. In my head, even if I don’t say it out loud. It’s a thing my dad said. I have no idea what it really means, or what it meant to him, but it’s in there. It’s part of my voice now.
There are some affectations. I say, “Me and my brother” instead of “My brother and I” because I think it sounds more regular. The way normal people talk. I got a lot of grammar lectures as a kid, and what can I say, I’m a contrarian, and I don’t like walking around and sounding like someone who knows a Shakespeare sonnet by heart.
Or how about this? Everyone has been with a friend who runs into an old high school buddy, and his or her language instantly goes 15 years back in time. Or more, depending on how “seasoned” you are.
All of this is voice. Standing voice. Speaking voice. It’s all a part of you, all inside of you, and all available to you at any given time.
And for most of us, the trick is to get that in writing. To write in a voice, and to do it without thinking about it so much.
Starting out it can feel like…have you ever been on a date, and the relationship is new, and you have to cross the room to your date? And the whole time you think something like, “Okay, be cool. Walk cool and normal. How do cool people walk? Why don’t I watch how cool people walk!? We wouldn’t be in this mess if I just paid more attention to cool people.”
And a lot like it changes with dating, to the point that your natural walk across the room to someone you love is something you don’t think about, your writing voice gets to be natural and easy to jump into as well.
~
When someone says they haven’t found their voice yet, a lot of times it’s one of a couple things. They haven’t written much yet, haven’t used their voice yet, and it really IS a little shaky. Or, they’re imitating someone else and looking to start breaking free of that and sounding different. Or, they’ve been told a lot of things about what you have to do to get published or noticed or whatever.
If you haven’t written much yet, my advice is to keep writing. I know that’s not very helpful, but what did you expect? A warp zone like in Super Mario Bros. that takes you straight to Voice Land? The more you walk, the more you walk like you. The more you talk, the more you talk like you. The more you write, the more you write like you. The only kind of writing that sounds nothing like you, the only kind of writing that doesn’t get you closer to your voice, is the kind you don’t do. The kind where you never actually sit down and write.
If you’re imitating someone else, that’s fine. Relax. Everyone does that. You’ll get out of it eventually. If you want to speed things up a little, read. You have to read to write, no matter what. Read something really different. Read good stuff. Read voice-y stuff. Read stuff in a voice that you don’t feel like you could fall into. Read something you don’t like that much, but that’s still good writing.
And if you have all these voices in your head, things people have told you about your writing, try writing something pointless. Something stupid. Write something that never sees the light of day. Write about a dream. Seriously. Nobody wants to hear about a dream, so this exercise is the perfect chance to write about one. Pull the border in tight. Pull the border in so readers aren’t in the room with you. Pull the border in tight to where the only person inside your head is the person with her fingers on the keyboard. Everyone else? Fuck ‘em. You don’t need them. Not right now. Tell a story from your life. Your best story. Tell a story that your mom wouldn’t want to hear. Tell the least marketable story you’ve got in you. And never use the word “marketable” again if you can fucking help it.
~
I’m going to give you my opinion here.
When we talk about voice, it’s not about finding your voice. Your voice is already there. You’re just overthinking it. You’re looking at everything you write and getting a little micro about what does and doesn’t sound like you too early in the process.
It’s not about finding your voice and then having that voice flow out of you uninterrupted. It’s about writing something and then being able to go back over the work and hear which parts sound the way you want and which parts don’t. Which parts sound like you and which parts don’t. Or, which parts sound like your character and which parts don’t.
The only way I know how to do this is to read your own stuff out loud when you edit. I’m serious.
And I don’t mean whispering under your breath. You will never make progress that way, I promise you. I mean that you have to read it out loud, slow, like you’re on the phone with someone who is listening, and he can’t hear you all that well. You have to read it out loud the way you’d read some kind of declaration at the Washington Monument. Be passionate. Be loud. Project to the back of the room, even if it’s just your bedroom.
If you’re reading your work out loud in the library or a coffee shop, and nobody is looking at you like you’ve lost your mind, then you’re doing it wrong.
That’s what I’ve been doing, and it’s made writing a lot easier. It’s helped me put away the voice question. These days it’s a lot easier to identify when something sounds like me, or sounds the way I want, or if it sounds off.
It’s called “voice” for a reason. Use your actual voice.