The Myth of the Writer’s Voice

- A chapter from How To Write Evocative Poetry -

There is a concept in writers circles known as ‘voice’. This is an almost ethereal, hard to pin down sound that established writers seem to have. Pick a random paragraph from one of the greats and you can just tell that they wrote it without ever knowing it was from them. Perhaps their poetry all has as similar feel, or maybe their pieces have a consistent style. You know how each song from your favourite musician is unique but somehow still sounds like them in a way that you cannot quite explain, yet you nonetheless know when another artist is desperately trying, and failing, to emulate it?

That’s voice.

Truth be told, I don’t see the value in trying to twist your writing into something beyond itself just to appeal to some obscure notion that seems to cripple new writers into believing that since they don’t have a defined voice, they are not true writers. The reason you don’t think you have a voice is because you are too close to yourself. You don’t have the detachment needed to see your body of work and view it as a whole. You cannot see the aspects of your personality leaking onto the page, in ways you cannot even comprehend it doing so.

Do I have a writer’s voice? Some of my readers think so and have told me as such. Ultimately, I am not concerned. I just write and I share. Then I leave it up to my readers to form an opinion. I would go insane attempting to tweak all my poetry to fit some contrived version of myself that I wanted to project. I don’t have the skill needed to manipulate pure expression to both maintain the emotional impact, as well as successfully alter my cadence, word choice, and make the countless other minor tweaks necessary to construct a ‘voice’.

Voice will come as it comes. The best thing you can do to assist this process is to stop thinking about it and simply write another piece. Eventually, maybe, you will be able to see your voice, or more likely, your readers will compliment your voice whilst lamenting the fact that they cannot seem to find theirs. When this happens, you can say to them, what I am saying to you now.

Just write.

Take whatever actions, internal or external needed to get out of your own way and just write.

No time? No skill? No inspiration? No space? No focus? No readers? No sales? No motivation? No support? No confidence?

Just write.

The truth is that the lights are never all green. There will always be a reason not to. There is always something ‘more important’ to do. Always something or someone there, preventing you from writing. Nothing I can say will remove every barrier you have, but what I can say is that everyone has barriers, and if they can overcome them, so can you. With pain. With perseverance. With effort. It won’t be easy, but the struggle will ultimately be a good thing. The growth needed to overcome your unique problems will be lifechanging, and of course, you can use your suffering as inspiration for your art.

Just write.

In Just A Fiction and Forever Forced To Sing I use the same phrase ‘silent screaming’, with both poems addressing similar themes and feelings. It is more than okay to use the same phrases, meanings, and symbolisms across multiple poems. They are just words on a page after all, using them multiple times doesn’t detract from their impact – particularly when you consider that the poems that use these similar components are unlikely to be read side by side and compared, and even if they are, so what? Just write what comes, without thought, even for your other work. Your current poem will thank you.

Just A Fiction

My entire sense of self
Is supplanted
By that one undefinable feeling
Of a nothingness with substance

 A heavy emptiness
Filled
With a choking void

 The screaming silence
Of a statue
Suffocating under glass

 Even in the moment
When his hand
Struck my face
It didn’t feel real 

Even in the moment
When she exposed herself
And approached me
It didn’t feel real

Nothing has ever felt real
Except the feeling of unreality

 My entire life
Feels like a play
Just words in a book
Only real
When it’s read
And then quickly forgotten
The trauma downplayed
Because we both know
It’s just a fiction
Created for your entertainment

Forever Cursed To Sing

Can’t you hear
My silent screams?
Can’t you see
The rope’s sway?

My head is too heavy
To cradle in your arms
I’m loathe
To drive you away

The bridges we
Walked hand in hand
You returned in secret
To burn

Thus my fate
Is bound to yours
Now the mirror’s eye
Has learnt to yearn

I was blinded
By the shine
Of your porcelain
Handshake

Fooled into believing
That nothing
Would ever
Cause us to break

The memory
Of our time apart
Like the returning
Of a playground swing

Pushing against
Fate itself
Forever cursed
To sing

Oh how
I’ve learnt
To hold onto
All those toxic tears

Created and then
Faced together
You and I
Embodying each other’s fears

The embers of
Last night’s fire
Lie discarded
In their pit

Smouldering
As we dance around
No chairs left
On which to sit

I wrote those two poems years apart, but I like them both. They have a similar feel, and address similar things, but they are unique and individually powerful. None of that was intentional.

The truth is that you may never know what your voice is. You are too close to it to see it. Other people may comment that you use certain phrases, symbolisms, or styles, and that is okay – in fact, it is what attracts people to our art in the first place. You just want to avoid forcing a voice, because unless you are a master of the craft, it will be obvious and derivative, and therefore unappealing to anyone other than yourself.

Summary

Don’t try to write with a certain voice, just write, and over time it will come.

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Read next:
Inspiration Is Everywhere (If You’re Willing to Look)

Silence, Sensitivity, and the Spark of a Poem

Truth First: Emotional Honesty in Poetry

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This chapter is from the book How To Write Evocative Poetry