(My darlin’ Braylie told me once that she
enjoyed reading my journals on-line, but wondered how I had “found my voice” as
a writer. This journal is my humble
attempt to explain that, and for asking, it is dedicated to her. I honestly don’t know that my writing is any
good, but I have had a lot of practice at it, and have been asked by a variety
of people to write what I would consider important items, so here goes…) [I tried to prioritize, but it proved
impossible – these are in no particular order.]
* I think
it’s really important to read a lot, and a lot of different things. As early as Elementary School, I was always
very proud of my certificates for reading the most books. If you were to stop by my house and look at
my library even now, you would find quite a wide variety of types of books in
something approaching 5000 volumes. I
have to admit to being pretty pleased with myself for organizing my books
better when I moved them to my Morgantown house. I have a Classics shelf, and ones for History
of various types, Baseball (of course), Mysteries, Science and Mathematics,
Philosophy and Religion – probably 20 different genres in all. By reading a wide variety of books, one gets
a broader view of the world. There are
many different ways to look at what happens in our universe, and the more
viewpoints you see, the more viewpoints you can see.
Among
those books are also a large number of “word” books. I have always been fascinated with the way
authors utilize the words at their disposal.
Realistically, our vocabulary is limited to a finite number of
regularly-used words, but good writers find a way to add greater meaning to the
words they use by finding unique implications in them. Willard Espy for instance, in Words At
Play, shows the kinds of gymnastics a good writer can make his words engage
in. Ogden Nash shows that it’s
acceptable to invent words when your dictionary just doesn’t seem to
have the perfect choice. I have always
said that I am a “connotation” kind of guy, not a “denotation” kind of
guy. Words are more important to me for
how they make me feel than for their exact meaning. This is a pretty important distinction when
dealing with a complex topic, and it’s the source of never-ending aggravation
for my students, when they ask me a complicated question. [e.g. ‘Do you believe in God?’… “That depends
on what you mean by ‘God’.”]
One of
the most exciting things to me about reading is seeing the way different
authors have approached the same subject.
Human beings all encounter some of the same situations throughout their
lives (love, hate, tragedy, aging etc.), but face those trials in a multitude
of different ways. Good writers show us
many possibilities for dealing with such things, and I think that is very
helpful in finding one’s own voice. “How
would I deal with that situation?” “What
would I think or feel under those circumstances?” By asking ourselves such questions, we begin
to realize that our voice is somewhat different from that of others, and we can
begin to sharpen our ability to express ourselves in our own unique way.
* Consequently,
I also think it is important to write a lot, and in wide variety. In my life, I have engaged in quite a few
different writing styles, and value what I have learned from each of them. From writing assignments in school to case
notes to evaluative reports to public speeches to lesson plans to historical
analyses to song lyrics to letters of recommendation, the types of writing I
have had to do each have their own
paradigms, language, and vocabulary, which have eventually contributed to the
amalgam that is my voice. Even years after I have written in some of
these styles, elements of them invade my work, usually in a useful way.
I think it is also useful to write
parodies of any particular style that you might have to use. Doing so helps you to see some of the
pitfalls and sillinesses that any particular style might have. Though I will admit that I would have a very
difficult time writing a parody of my own personal style, I can easily parody
song lyrics, government documents, and other items that I have had to write
frequently in my lifetime. (I will
admit, however, that most of my supervisors in State government offices didn’t
relish my parodies very much.)
* Build as
large a vocabulary as you can. The only
way to know whether certain words feel right to you is to use them enough times
to develop a sense of ownership (or rejection).
At a very early age, I enjoyed working the crossword puzzles in the
newspaper. What I found most fascinating
about them was the multitude of implications the puzzle constructors could find
in a word. The clues given for a
particular word never were the same, but always seemed to make sense once you
figured the puzzle out. Whether a word
was being used as a noun or a verb changed it completely. (The word “name” for instance, could mean any
of the following: designation, label, handle, VIP, luminary, reputation,
renown, identify, cite, christen, dub, or call among other things, and each of those
terms has a variety of applications.)
I was
fortunate to have Grace Marie Merrill as my Sophomore English teacher in high
school. She insisted that we keep a
little notebook just for the 20 words she gave us each week to learn. (“Loquacious” was one of those words, if you
get the inside joke.) Because I did what
I was supposed to, and because I wanted to please Mrs. Merrill, I learned all
those words religiously and still remember most of them today. Many of those words (like “lugubrious”) are
generally in my vocabularic dustbin, but I trot them out once in awhile when
the feeling is just right. (…as the word
“awhile” is in the previous sentence, even though Word’s squiggly blue line
tells me it’s passé now.)
In a
classroom discussion one of my students once revealed a great strategy his mom
had when reading a book. As she would
read, she would encounter words that she did not know. Rather than skim over or ignore them, she
would underline them, look them up in the dictionary, and write the definition
in the margin of her book. Slowly but
surely, she built up a useful vocabulary that was beneficial to her in many
ways. Of course, this strategy only
works if you at least occasionally read books that are challenging to
your literacy. (More related to that
anon...)
* Register
in your mind what you sound like when you are talking with others. Most of us converse with other people while
lots of nonproductive thinking is going on inside our heads. We plan out our day, consider our shopping
list, and engage in other mundane thoughts without really considering what we
are saying or how we are saying it.
(Half of you just thought, “I always do that!”, while the other half of
you thought, “I never do that!”) Next
time you are carrying on a conversation, put a little effort into listening to
how you sound to the other person. It
will have two positive results: you will have a better idea of what your true
voice sounds like, and you will stop using words and phrases that might be
perceived as offensive to other people.
(My friend Ron used to end a conversation with, “Talk at you later”,
which was intended to be a funny turn of phrase. It worked pretty well for him, but my wife
picked it up and can’t put it down. From
her it frequently sounds dismissive, though I am sure she has never considered
that.)
I also
consider it perfectly acceptable to talk to yourself. When you are driving in a car alone or on an
exercise run, try talking out important ideas.
It always seems to help me clarify my ideas and improve the way I wish to
express myself. Talking aloud is
different in some ways than writing, so you should learn to hear the
differences. I always finish a written
work by reading it aloud, often changing it to sound better in that form. I think that gives it a more personal voice. (That’s partly why I use so many commas in my
work, causing Word to give me lots of green squiggles. I frequently pause for effect when speaking,
and sometimes to allow time for thought or questions, so commas in my writing
are there for the same reason. Poo on
Word. Fortunately, it’s not programmed
to be irritated by my underlines, dashes, ellipses, or italics, though it’s very concerned about my invented words.)
Similarly,
it’s a good idea to “write” a lot in your mind before you ever put it down on
paper. For letters of recommendation
particularly, I use this strategy every time.
In free moments, I ask myself, “What do I know about this person, and
how do I want to impress on someone else the love/respect/admiration I have for
them?” By the time I get around to
actually writing the letter, it almost writes itself, because thinking about it
has assembled all the parts already.
Ironically, I use the same opening almost all the time, so every letter
feels to me as though it begins like every other letter, then transforms into a
personal essay when I begin to talk about the individual who only I know in
that way.
* Though I
have never been able to consistently follow the advice myself, keeping a
writer’s notebook is an excellent idea.
Have one section for good ideas as they come to you (including unique
descriptions or topics that interest you), and keep track of interesting
imagery, plot twists, and word usage that you encounter in your reading. I do have a notebook filled with
one-line ideas for journals, stories, and even books that I might write
someday. I don’t like to be derivative,
so I seldom write down other peoples’ clever phrasing, preferring to rely on my
creative juices to help me out at critical times. It’s very possible that critics would say
that my writing suffers from this, and though they may be right, I don’t really
care. Regardless, this is why one must
not fall into the habit of reading only certain types of books. When the only things we read fall into one
particular genre, it will be nearly impossible for us to grow the power of our
own voice.
I write mostly to express myself,
to clarify my thinking, or to leave a legacy for students and family. I would be quite happy to be considered a
good writer by some objective criteria, but it’s not essential to my personal
satisfaction, which is a characteristic that I also think helps a person find
their own voice. Most great authors (not
that I am one) wrote in their own voice, whether it was critically praised or
not. The variety of our literature would
suffer greatly if authors only wrote what critics liked. We would likely have missed out on Joyce,
Vonnegut, Thurber, Twain, and many others had they chosen to look for a common
voice rather than sticking to their own.
* One of
the oldest clichés in writing is, “Write what you know.” To me, this might be the ultimate aid to
finding your voice. Only you have
experienced certain events in life. Only
you can describe them in a personal and unique way. My Psychology students always hear my story
from my mother’s funeral about the guy who came up to me and said, “I know
exactly how you feel.” He obviously had
no clue about the absurdity of that statement, but it made me quite angry anyway. No matter what his experience was with his
mother’s passing, it really could not in any sensible way compare with what I
was experiencing, and I should have told him so, but I wouldn’t have been able
to explain it to him civilly. Once
again, that which makes for great variety in writing is, at heart, our variety
in experiencing life. Only you can know
certain things in certain ways, so express them in the way that is most
meaningful to you. That will be your
voice.
This
leads to another old cliché, “Know thyself.”
In order to speak clearly in your own voice, you must know who you truly
are. I realize that this can be
difficult for many young people. What do
you do when you are still in the middle of growing into your true self? The answer is, “Write now, read it later, and
then write again.” I usually hate to
read things that I have written long ago, but it certainly is instructive. I can see my growth in some areas, which
makes me feel good. I can also be
alerted to regression in other areas.
Most importantly, I can see change,
which occurs daily in such a subtle fashion that I might not otherwise notice
it. Many people are not comfortable
digging down deeply into their psyche, looking for motivations or flaws, but I
have learned to embrace the practice. I
am okay with being flawed, because I have earned my flaws through a
lifetime of experiences. I don’t want to
make my mistakes over again, but I have learned from most of them, and am a
better person as a result. Knowing
ourselves allows us to grow and to change, both of which are necessary to our truest
voice.
* In an old
joke, a wayward motorist driving down the streets of Manhattan leans out his
window and asks a pedestrian, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” The helpful guy replies, “Practice, practice,
practice!” The same can be said to the
aspiring writer. The more you write in
your own voice, the clearer that voice becomes to you. As I mentioned above, that voice will change
over time and depending on your purpose, but certain elements will always
remain. It only becomes stronger with
practice. Try writing a variety of
different things. This may help you find
that you have a voice that is strong in some areas while less so in other
areas. Having knowledge of this can help
you improve upon your weaknesses, and rely on your strengths when necessary.
* Always
review and edit your work with that preeminent question in mind, “Is this how I
want to sound?” If the end result
“sounds” like you, it probably is you, even if it makes you feel
uncomfortable. I will admit that some of
my writing sounds to me exactly like the me who wrote the 7th grade
essay, “Looking Out My Window”. My
mother saved that paper, which I completely forgot until well after she died
and I found it in her desk drawer. In
some ways, I wish my voice had changed more over the years, but in other ways I
am pleased to have retained some of the innocence and simplicity that are
reflected in it.
* Finally –
have patience. Voice, like wisdom, does
not manifest itself in a magical burst of insight. It is a slow-developing process that takes
plenty of time and chooses many different forms before it becomes fully
self-reflective. It is perfectly
acceptable to have one voice at 20 and a very different one at 30. In fact, I would say that your life had been
quite boring if you remained exactly the same for over a decade. Perhaps this explains the literary
disappearance of some authors, whose voice never changed until they simply didn’t
matter anymore. Your ability to portray
genuine teenage angst at 18 might actually be a powerful tool. If you are still mired in that angst 10 years
later, your voice has probably fallen silent, and no one is listening to you.
The
fact that you are curious – searching for that elusive voice, is the most
likely indication that you will eventually find it. We can only ever locate that for which
we are searching. Keep searching.