Writing with Voice
I've read a lot of comments about the writer's voice, that intangible element in a writer's work that is a unique and defining quality of that writer. Everyone seems to agree, finding one's voice is essential, and a good voice is priceless. Trouble is, voice is hard to pin down when you’re trying to explain, or talk about it. A writer’s voice can reflect his or her use of tempo, style of dialogue, or narrative description. Voice is not one thing, it’s not even a compilation of several, it’s the over-all effect of the way a writer expresses herself, or himself. And more. It even reflects subconscious aspects of the writer’s personality, mood, etc.
I like to think of voice as being similar to a person’s handwriting. Everyone’s handwriting is unique. It identifies the owner, and tells something about them. It may indicate openness or suspicion, optimism or negativity, a strong or weak ego, and so on. It can change over time. I think it’s interesting to see documents I signed years ago and how my own signature has changed. I’m sure I’m not alone.
So, what makes up this unique stamp? With handwriting, it has to do with the shape given various letters, their slant, size and even the pressure used to inscribe them. I’m not talking about the conscious formation of letters and words, but the impact of subsconscious elements on the script.
The author of the book, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain relates this phenomenon to artistic expression. We can all express ourselves, give indications of our mood, character and temperament in our handwriting. Without even trying. Even if we think we have no artistic talent. I think the same thing is at work in voice.
As writers we can, and should, make a conscious effort to craft our work. We need to be concerned with tempo, plot, description, dialogue, and all the elements of effective writing. But on top of all that we are told we need to find and develop our voice. That used to puzzle me. How can you develop something that is subconscious to begin with? Why do you need to develop something that occurs subsciously and without intent? Moreover, this so-called developmental process we were supposed to seek seemed to be largely a matter of write, write, write. It was all a big mystery.
In Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, the aspiring artist is offered various exercises which have the effect of loosening the “left-sidedness” of drawing and enabling control by the right side of the brain. Learning that made me think of things I had read regarding Zen exercises, which seemed focus on giving up conscious thought control and freeing up the flow of deeper energies. These analogies also make me think of golf. As a golfer, I know it is disasterous to focus on the pond you don’t want to hit into, or the line of trees you don’t want to claim your ball yet again. The hit ball tends to follow the flawed pattern you seek to avoid every time. Instead, one needs to feel and remember the desired golf swings. A good golfer knows when a swing feels right and is able to remember and repeat the components that produced the desired outcome.
With these analogies to drawing and asthetics and athleticism in mind, it now makes sense that ones voice is developed through mastering the craft of writing and recognizing and releasing the flow of feelings, etc. that produce one’s desired “signature” voice. The craft side of writing is a constant conscious effort. We take pains to re-read our manuscripts, fine-tune our sentences, and pick out the perfect words. We ask ourselves if the plot is moving, if the tempo flows properly, if there’s a better adjective or verb. That work is necessary. But there are also times when the dialogue flows so freely it seems like we are merely transcribing an actual conversation. There are editing instances when a needed deletion frees the action and makes the scene pop. There are times when a paragraph of description sets the pace of a scene and creates the desired mood for it. We feel it, and know that it works, and hopefully remember how to do it the next time we want to. That’s where I think the writer’s voice is at work. Not through conscious effort to produce it, but through shutting off mechanical effort and releasing one’s inner self into the writing moment.
These moments may be rare, or frequent, long or short, but when they occur everything simply flows and the experience can be a writer’s high. They are more likely to occur when the craft side has been developed to the point of not having to think about it so much. They are likely to last longer when our familiarity with the characters in our story is so deep that we simply understand how they react in the situation at hand, when we mentally experience a landscape with all our senses, when our own viscera respond to the threat, or loss, or gain in the action taking place. For the writer, I think these feelings make up much of the most treasured experience of writing. It’s what makes writing so great, so worth all the effort. But, does it make the writing better? Is there a payoff for the reader? Obviously, yes. But, not all the time.
A writer’s voice may change over time, gaining different character, becoming more, or less, pleasing to a given reader. The writer changes. The writer’s life changes. The writing cannot stay the same. It it effected by the different conscious involvements and concerns of the writer, and by the writer's altering subscious. I suspect the writer cannot remain the same over time and through many publications. Something will change. But the changes may be wonderful, too. When the craft is supurb, the writer’s interest intense, and the voice is flowing through the work like a stream of cosmic enery, the reader is treated to scenes that are transportative. The reader can become lost in the writer’s moment, the time, the place, the event. The reader doesn’t read about a conversation, or get it second hand. The reader is there, hearing it, feeling it, a part of it. A good voice is like a comfortable chair, we know we can imerse ourselves in a wonderful experience as soon as we settle in and start to read.
