Ages ago, one of my college professors told a creative writing class, “Nothing ruins writing like going to college.” And while it’s true that the endless grind of essays and term papers can lead to a stilted, overly academic, view of the writing craft, I think there’s another thing that’s equally destructive: making writing a mysterious, mystifying thing. I bring this up because I’ve seen the topic of finding one’s voice as a writer referred to in sometimes mystical, new-agey terms. Well, enough of that.
Ever listened to a recording of yourself? It can be a bit disconcerting–Do I really sound like that?–but that’s your voice. It can also take a little while to get used to your voice on the page. Do I really write like that? If there are aspects of your writing voice you’re not crazy about (maybe your similes are nasally), you can always work on those, in much the same way you can train your speaking voice. Just be careful not to train all the life out of your writing.
Which, incidentally, brings me to another point. In much the same way that you’d talk to, say, a pastor or your grandparents or your Calc professor differently than you’d talk to your friends on a night out (especially once everybody’s had a round or two), you’ll likely end up adopting different voices within your writing, depending on the purpose of what’s being written. A term paper, a memoir, and a business email all have different purposes, and there will likely be variations as to how you express yourself depending on the occasion. You can even mine these differences for humor if you’d like; try a love letter in the style of the instruction manual for a DVD player, or an annual report as a series of haikus.
If all else fails, remember the old adage about people writing how they speak, and write that way. If you’re writing dialogue, hear it before you write it, and if you’re not sure if it works–be it dialogue or just an introductory ‘graf in the treasurer’s report–say it out loud. If it doesn’t sound natural to your ear… ’nuff said.
Especially if you’re writing for your friends, yourself, or an audience not made up of clients, academics, or others of that ilk, just let loose and be conversational. Err on the side of comfort. And when all’s said and done, keep in mind that this is just another tool in your toolkit. And the same as you wouldn’t fret over a screwdriver–well, I hope you wouldn’t–there’s not much sense in getting worked up over voice. Over time, and with practice, yours will emerge. Use it. Loudly, even.