Voice: The Art of Speaking

Why is it that most of us aren’t satisfied with who we are? We see ourselves as too fat, too skinny, too tall, too short. If we have long hair, we worry that it’s too long. If it’s short, we ponder whether it’s worth the price to get extensions. When we’re young, we can’t wait to be older, and somewhere around forty, we long for the footloose and fancy-free days of our youth.

Writers are no different. Many of us struggle with accepting our own voice. We want to “sound” like someone else. If we have a tendency to write long, adjective filled sentences, we decry the fact that we can’t be more like Hemingway, keeping our prose short, simple, and to the point. If our style tends more toward the straight forward, we wish we could “pretty” it up a bit.

As writers, we must learn to embrace our individual ways of speaking. While I’m enamored by the well placed turn of phrase in some of my favorite authors, the bottom line is that I am not Eudora Welty, Flannery O’Connor, or William Faulkner. I’m simply me, and I’ve been given a unique way of communicating that’s good enough.

Maybe not everyone will appreciate the way I “say” things in writing. Perhaps some will find my voice mundane, trite, or boring. That’s okay. Those people will look elsewhere for the information I’m sharing. But there are those who will find my voice refreshing and clear. That’s the audience I’m writing for.

As a mother, I can pick out my son’s voice in a crowd. I sense when his tone indicates anger, frustration, or joy. And, because I know what’s communicated in the tone, the nuances that go deeper than the words he speaks, I respond appropriately. You’ll only be able to communicate to your reader at that heart level when you’re true to the voice God has given you. Trust that you have a valuable way of communicating. Then, don’t waste your time trying to sound like the writer you admire most. Speak in your voice to the people who need to hear your words and will appreciate your unique style.

Eventually, your readers will become so sure of your voice that they, like a mother with her child, will “hear” the truth in your message that communicates at a level deeper than words.

--Cheryl

A Conundrum

I hope those reading will indulge me for one post; I will try, one day in the future, not to venture much into the murkiness of my own issues. Today is not that day.

I like to think that I have all the answers; really, I really do. My friends will tell you that pretending to be an authority on something is probably my favorite pastime. But today, November 13, 2008, I am admitting that I’ve finally been stymied.

What, you may be asking yourselves, is so far outside the bounds of reality that Mandy doesn’t know the answer? I’ll grant you, it is hard to even imagine.

But here goes.

I have been given the opportunity to finally cast off the chains of employment and work for myself instead. (And really, who could envision a better boss?). I would be able to do something I’ve been talking about for years—become a stay at home mother, and a full time writer.

But, as any writer will tell you, there are no guarantees in the business. What might win the Pulitzer one day could land in an editor’s trash heap the next.

So while, at the moment, I have the promise of steady work, I can’t be certain it will be that way next month. I might be inundated with work, making millions (I wish), or I might be selling second-hand buttons door to door.

Am I crazy to even consider leaving stable employment in this economy? Am I wanting this so badly that I’m following my own desires, rather than the ultimate Plan for my life? It's a mystery to me.

So, as one writer to another, I’m looking for advice, assistance, past tales of woe or glory. And even if you’ve never had to make this decision, even if your writing is more personal than public, humor me and let me know what you would do. I’m asking a lot, I know. And I’m certainly not promising that I’m going to take anyone’s advice (because, sometimes, I like to be contrary), but I will heed it, and consider it thoughtfully.

So leave a comment if you will, and thank you for letting me break off the beaten path for a few paragraphs.

--Mandy

Graphic from everystockphoto.com

Dispelling the Writer's Myth

First, let me apologize for the lack of posting lately. Unfortunately, with the advent of Fall comes a myriad of physical ailments that leaves me sipping Thera-flu from a thermos and shaking my fist at the elements.

And in this state of general malaise, I haven't written at all. Not even a grocery list. Which brings me to the Writer's Myth:

You have to write everyday to be, or call yourself, a writer.

Balderdash. (Such a fun and under-appreciated word).

In the many conferences I've attended, someone in the industry invariably hands down this commandment and then looks pointedly right at me (although perhaps the last is merely a figment of my paranoia). And I shift uncomfortably in my seat, ashamed that I can't always meet that requirement.

Does that mean I'm not a writer? The thought takes hold, refusing to relinquish its grip until I comfort myself with the knowledge that these people are crazy.

Okay, maybe not crazy, maybe just unnaturally optimistic.

In the real world, where I live, stuff happens. The baby gets sick; I get sick; and the laundry grows into a pile that threatens to overtake the house. And while at times I'd love nothing more than to sit down everyday and stare at my laptop while the literary goodness fills the screen, it is not always feasible, and not always the most responsible thing for me to do.

Should I then beat myself up? Should I give back my "writer" badge, believing that I just must not want it enough? Do I spend the time when I can write worrying about the times when I can't?

No. To all of the above.

I keep on, using the Writer's Myth to challenge, not shame me. I trust in my ability to do what I'm supposed to--eventually. I realize that there is a difference in being my own harshest critic and my own personal bully. And when I can't find the time or energy to write one day, I listen to the critic who tells me to try harder, and I silence the bully who tells me that my heart just must not be in it.

--Mandy