There’s a
fun improv game you can play where you say the same thing in a bunch of
different ways.
For example,
try saying “I love you” in the following ways: bashfully, sarcastically, like
Captain Kirk (remember . . . to pause in
the . . . most unexpected of places), like a rock star (yeah,
baby!), like a slimy politician (don’t forget to vote for me), angrily, drunk,
like a little kid, like a parrot, and like Siri.
These are
just a few examples. Maybe you want to come up with a few on your own. Or maybe
you’d like to try different words. I used to play a similar game with my
daughter and her friends, where we would read a children’s book in different
ways. Believe me, Dr. Seuss sounds a lot funnier if you read his words furiously.
What makes
this game interesting is that you soon discover that words change their meaning
depending on how you say them. Spoken bashfully, “I love you” sounds deep, so
deep that it scares the speaker just a bit; but spoken sarcastically, it sounds
more like “I despise you.”
You might be
thinking, “What does any of this have to do with writing?”
While
different literary agents and editors are looking for different genres, one
thing that almost all of them are looking for is a unique and interesting
voice.
Written
words actually do have a “voice.” It’s the thing that differentiates one writer
from another, the way each of us can express the same thing in a different way.
Some of us
are like standup comedians. We write in our own voice. Jane Austen was like
that. Her words are uniquely hers. No one else could have written them, not
unless they were great at mimicking her voice.
Others are
more like actors. We write in the voice of a character we’re playing. Daniel
Handler wrote the Series of Unfortunate Events books like that under the name
Lemony Snicket. I’d say Louise Rennison wrote her Georgia Nicolson books like that, although
I’ve been told by people who heard her speak that Georgia’s voice was Rennison’s. They say she actually
spoke like a teenage girl “on the rack of lurrrv,” and she really was the
bestie every girl wanted to have.
Of the books
that I’ve written, Toren the Teller’s Tale is close to my
writer’s voice, although it’s heavily influenced by the voices of the various
storytellers in it, particularly Toren herself. Dan Quixote: Boy of Nuevo Jersey
has a lot of my voice in it, although a younger version of it. I think Ride of Your Life comes closest to my
true writer’s voice. Yes, it has focal characters, so the voice adjusts
depending on the point-of-view character in a scene. But I do think you get a
lot of my voice, my style, the way I put words together into sentences and
sentences into paragraphs.
On the other
hand, Why
My Love Life Sucks was written in Gilbert Garfinkle’s voice, not mine. I suppose parts of me get into his voice, just
a bit. We’re both proud geeks, after all, both love science and both want to
fix the world in our own way. He’s a lot smarter and younger than I am, though,
and male. And I’ve given him some things that are the opposite of me, just so I could try on his way of seeing things.
Gilbert loves heights, because I’m afraid of heights. Gilbert loves extreme
sports for the same reason. He’s brave where I’m scared, and sometimes he’s
scared where I’m brave.
I think I
prefer to write in someone else’s voice. I know I prefer to write in Gilbert’s.
When I write in my own voice, I feel self-conscious. What will readers think of
me? What if they don’t find me funny? What if they don’t like my writing? What
if they don’t like me at all? Gilbert, on the other hand, could hardly care
less. He just sees the world the way he sees it, and it doesn’t matter what
anyone thinks. Writing in his voice also makes me feel like I’m not doing this
alone. I have a friend in my head. I can take him anywhere I like. And he is
geeking awesome. I would listen to his
voice all day if I could.
While
different literary agents and editors are looking for different genres, one
thing that almost all of them are looking for is a unique and interesting
voice.
So how do
you, the writer, give them what they want?
That’s a
good question. After all, if there were an easy answer, everyone would be doing
it.
When it
comes to a personal voice, you probably already have one. You probably already
have a unique way of saying things that’s different from how other people say
them. You can develop that voice by reading a lot books and seeing how you
would say things differently.
Maybe you
wouldn’t say “I love you.” Maybe you would say “I hate you” in such a way that
deep down everyone reading it would know you actually mean “I love you.”
Maybe you would say, “As you wish,” like Westley in The Princess Bride.
Or maybe when told “I love you,” you’d say “I know,” like Hans Solo tells Princess Leia in The Empire Strikes Back.
Or maybe you wouldn’t say it at all. Maybe you’d show it with the things that you do, or maybe you’d think it and be too scared to say it out loud.
Maybe you would say, “As you wish,” like Westley in The Princess Bride.
Or maybe when told “I love you,” you’d say “I know,” like Hans Solo tells Princess Leia in The Empire Strikes Back.
Or maybe you wouldn’t say it at all. Maybe you’d show it with the things that you do, or maybe you’d think it and be too scared to say it out loud.
Whatever way
you have that’s unique to you, pay attention to it. Cultivate it.
Many new
writers try to write like someone else, but you need to write in the way that
only you can. That’s the only way you’ll stand out. That’s the only way your voice can be heard above the rest.
As for
writing in a character’s voice . . . This one is a bit trickier
to explain.
I think you
need to know the character inside and out. It could help to write down their
entire life’s story, all the things they like and don’t like and why, all their
greatest dreams and deepest fears. It could also help to draw them or find a
photo of someone who makes you think of them. You have to know who they truly
are, and you have to let your characters speak for themselves. You can’t try to
control their voices. If you can treat them like they’re real people—not
puppets for you to manipulate—they’ll be more likely to have their own unique
voices, the way that real people do.
Two small
technical notes: first, avoid writing things like “he saw,” “she thought,” or
“I felt.” There’s nothing between your character and the things that are affecting
them, so don’t put your character between them.
Instead of writing “He saw her as she left,” simply write “She left.” Instead
of writing “she thought it might be nice to meet him for coffee,” write
“Meeting him for coffee might be nice.” Instead of writing “I felt reassured,”
write “So it wasn’t all bad.” And second, if you’re writing in first person,
watch out for the “evil I.” You’ll probably have to sprinkle a few I’s in your
first-person manuscript, but you don’t want to overdo it. People who say “I” a
lot are usually self-absorbed, so if your character isn’t meant to be an
egomaniac, try to edit most of those out.
I’m
currently writing the end of Why It Still
Mega Bites, the sequel to Why My Love Life Sucks. It’s fun, but
also challenging, because a big part of the book is written in Amber’s voice.
Getting inside her head and seeing things through her bright blue eyes and
strange mix of hope and insecurity feels weird, I’ve really enjoyed it. I think
it helps not to judge your point of view character too harshly, to accept that
they are who they are, to see them as they see themselves. It probably helps to
view the people around you that way, too. Try to have an open mind and put
yourself in another’s shoes. Maybe it will make you a better writer. It
probably couldn’t hurt.
Whatever you
do, try to keep your voice authentic to yourself or your character. Don’t write
anything for convenience or because that’s the way you think the character is supposed to be or the way the genre is supposed to be written. An authentic
voice is rarely convenient and often breaks the rules.
And that, I
think, is the kind of voice literary agents and editors are looking for, a
voice that’s different because it breaks the rules.
