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

It's All in the Workshop

As students shuffled into the room for my life and memoir writing class earlier this semester, I didn’t have to check my course calendar to know what the day’s schedule held. While the handful who’d taken my writing classes before held an air of confidence, the majority wore their uneasiness like an ill-fitting uniform. Heads hanging low, shoulders slumped in defeat, few made eye contact with me. It was the first workshop of the semester, and dread was a palpable presence in the room.

I secretly grinned to myself and reminded the students of the ground rules: be respectful of one another, offer honest and constructive criticism, don’t malign other’s work, no disclaimers or explanations from the writer of the piece being workshopped. It was time to begin, and I was sure my excitement exceeded my students’ fear. I knew what we were about to do would be crucial to the development of these budding writers.

Workshopping, or sharing your writing with peers for their critical review, is an invaluable tool for the writer. Why? Because, while writing is intensely personal, it is also a means of connecting with others. Workshopping gives us a public forum for sharing our words in a safe, non-threatening setting. When we workshop, we open our writing to differing viewpoints that can only strengthen us as writers and people.

I encourage you if you don’t already have one to find a community of writers you feel safe with and share your writing. Be open to receiving people’s constructive criticism, knowing that ultimately you have the freedom to choose which advice to accept and which to reject.

And don’t be afraid to establish some ground rules, just as I have done with the students in my writing classes. Remember, workshopping won’t work if you fear personal attacks when others review your writing. It also won’t work if the members of your writing group are too worried about hurting one another’s feelings to be honest. And one last thing, you must park your thin skin at the door. If you’re busy defending what you’ve written and taking offense over opinions you don’t like, workshopping is a waste of time.

So make up your mind today that you won’t be overly sensitive about your writing, and don’t be afraid to share with others. You’ll grow as a writer . . . and as a person.

--Cheryl

Recognizing Your Strengths (and Weaknesses) as a Writer

I was a typical young girl, thriving on fairy tales that took me to faraway lands and soothed my desire to be something other than what I was: the very much ordinary daughter of a middle class family living in suburbia. The most exciting thing I could possibly hope for was for my sister to hide herself in the dryer (something she did rather frequently) and make my parents call the police to file a missing person's report.

So is it any wonder that with such a fascination with this idea of fantasy that I'd decide to write my own fantasy bestseller?

Yeah, that worked out real well for me.

What I found, when I sat down with my "How to Write a Bestselling Fantasy Novel" reference manual, was that I couldn't do it. When I realized that the only name I could come up with for my make believe land was Emerica, I had to face a humbling fact.

I. Have. No. Imagination. At all. Seriously.

I still don't. No matter how hard I try, I can't imagine my way out of a paper bag. It's my shameful little secret.

Why should you care, right?

All of us are like that as writers. We have to accept that certain things are beyond the scope of our ability to do them well. I'll never have a "Harry Potter" fantasy masterpiece on the shelves. But that's okay because along the way, I learned the specific things I do well.

I put my characters in situations that mirror real life so I don't have to give myself an ulcer trying to invent fantastical plot lines that no one will believe anyway. I use humor to entertain. I focus on the nuances of the turn of a phrase.

So when I write, I play to my strengths. And I quiet the nagging unease of not being perfect.

--Mandy

I am not a writer [Cheryl]

I remember the first time I read William Faulkner’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech where he expressed his passion for writing stories about “the human heart in conflict with itself.” I found I had much in common with Faulkner. Like him, I was intrigued by human behavior and had an intense desire to understand what motivates us.


This obsession with the need to know why, to understand the inner workings of the heart that compel us to great sacrifice and great selfishness, first led me to a love for literature. So I spent many years enjoying other people’s writing and even pursuing degrees that would allow me professional credibility and a means of income for doing what I loved best, discussing the human condition as it is depicted in literature.

I never saw myself as a writer; it was enough for me to simply enjoy and seek insight from the words penned by others. But something has changed over the last few years. I find growing within my own heart a passion for the art of writing.


Always the teacher, I write as an avenue to share life lessons with others. Selfishly, I also write to purge, to vent feelings I can’t otherwise cope with or understand. I write for emotional healing and well being, to clarify what God is teaching me. And ultimately, I write because I believe, as pompous as it may sound, that God has given me something that He would have me share in this most challenging and rewarding of mediums.


So while I haven’t dreamed of writing from my earliest memories, or even identified myself as a writer, I suppose I am one.

My life--or lack thereof--as a writer [Mandy]

If you ask me, I usually say I’ve been writing since I could hold a crayon. If you ask my parents, they’ll say it started long before that. Apparently, even in my toddler years, I understood the value and the lure of a finely crafted story, and while I can’t remember much of my own work back then, I’ve been told that my stuffed animals lived quite the Peyton Place-esque lives.


Unfortunately, even though I had a pretty big head start on stardom and success, I’ve found that being a writer, and growing as one, is much less glamorous than I originally planned.


Shocking, isn’t it?


To date, no one has lobbed long-stemmed roses at my car as it drives by, and I’ve yet to receive even the smallest box of chocolate in the mail. In moments of frustration, I ask myself . . .


“Didn’t they read my article on teenage abstinence? How could they and not have been completely and irrevocably changed?”


“Okay, okay, but surely that piece I did on debt reduction must have ruffled some feathers. Where’s the complaint letters?”


“What about that website I . . . no? Nobody even read that?”


Being a freelance writer is a thankless (and often, poorly paying job). So why do I do it? Because I'm a glutton for punishment? Perhaps. But even beyond that, the reality is that stream of income helps finance my other, grander writing dreams. Truthfully, it’s the only reason you’ll ever catch me writing about Network Affiliate Marketing Programs or editing tutoring policies.

But, to be philosophical, it’s all part of the journey. I’ve learned that, unfortunately, I’m not always going to get paid for writing the stuff I want to. And sometimes, my work could be posted in Times Square, and still, no one would notice. That’s the business.

But sometimes, every once in a while, the passion and the payoff converge. I guess that’s why I do it. Because even when it doesn’t work, I can’t seem to find the heart (or the talent for anything else) to change careers, and when it does . . . well, I certainly couldn't imagine wanting to do anything else.