One of my favorite parts of writing conferences is the first-page critique session—when attendees anonymously submit their first pages and a panel of editors, agents, and industry pros critique them for the whole group. It’s interesting, because the panelists always complain about the same things, and one of the common fails on ailing first pages is the voice.
If the voice on a first page is boring or flat or inconsistent, you may not be able to put your finger on exactly what’s wrong with it, but you know something’s wrong. Likewise, when the voice is on, you sense it immediately. It resonates. So if you’re wanting to write a book that people will want to read, it’s hugely important to get the voice right.
That’s why, despite this topic having been discussed already around the blogosphere, we’re going to talk about it again. It’s that important. PK Hrezo is here today to share some thoughts and an exercise on how to write voice well. Thanks, PK!
Soul. It’s a word applied to many different media. For just a moment, let’s consider it from a musical standpoint. Stevie Wonder. Aretha Franklin. Marvin Gaye. Not just anyone can sing and play this kind of music successfully; a certain je ne sais quoi is required in bringing down the house and moving people to their very souls.
Is it really any different when it comes to books?
If the structure of a story is the bones and the characters and plot are the meat, then the voice most certainly is the soul. Every reader loves a good plot and riveting characters, and many books have these elements, but with so many to choose from, what makes us select the books we do?
For me it’s simple: if you want me to get past the first page of your book, the voice of the story must grab me. It must be authentic, unique, memorable. It should feel like a real person. So what ingredients make up that magical concoction of a compelling voice?
Word choice. Cadence. Rhythm. It’s where the real writing comes in, paired with crafty prose and flipped clichés. It requires careful thought and consideration, both when the narrator is a main character, as well as when the story is told in third person.
For newer writers, it can be hard to decipher what those editors and reviewers are saying when they mention a weak or bland voice. It’s like not being able to see the book for the words. (See how I flipped that forest-for-the-trees cliché??)
If you’re struggling with the concept of voice, give the following exercise a try:
Let’s say we send three very different people to the same party, asking all to observe the venue and guests for thirty minutes before reporting back on everything they noticed. Let’s say one of those people is an elderly lady who uses a walker, is blind in one eye, and hasn’t been out of her house in a week. How would she describe what she sees and feels? What words would she choose? What are the things she’d notice?
What if one of the guests was a young dad who’d recently lost his wife to cancer and this was the first time he’d been out since her death? How would his observations be different from the old woman? How would he describe it, in his own overwhelmed, brink-of-depression terms?
What if one of those people was an eighteen-year-old girl who was just elected homecoming queen and this was her third party of the night? What words would she use to make her report relative to her world?
This activity exemplifies the importance of character when it comes to voice. What she notices (and doesn’t notice), the words she uses to describe those things, the cadence and rhythm of her speech (is it lilting, rambling, stuttering, or staccato?)—all of these things go together to define her voice and make it uniquely hers.
Now take the exercise a step further. Make your main character one of these guests who must observe the party and report back. Now it’s your villain’s turn. Now the love interest…Not only will this activity get you in touch with who your characters are at their core, but it will distinguish each of their unique voices and help you decide which one would be the most compelling and/or fitting for the story you want to tell. The individual voices that result can be the difference in an un-put-downable story and one that sounds like all the rest.
When I’m drafting, I work fast. I get that story down and focus on the rise and fall of emotion throughout the plot. But I know that a compelling narrator voice is vital, so during my first and second rounds of edits, I focus on how I can strengthen the narrator (and character) voice. Are my word choices dull? If the sentence or paragraph evokes no emotion in me, then the answer is probably yes. How can I flip my current word choices to add flair to my character and refine her voice in the story?
Example from an old unpublished manuscript:
It’s not crowded, but the noise of the arcade and music makes it seem busy. Glancing around, I notice some of my old video game faves. I haven’t been inside here in ages—grew out of it, I guess. Now it seems kind of fun, though. Reminds me of a time when nothing else mattered—when scoring high at Zombie Slayer ruled the weekend. Back when my brother Jake was still at home, and when Mom and I got along. I realize it now. Something about this place comforts me.
Now, using the same scenario, let’s tweak the voice:
The place is a ghost town, only the whirrs and beeps of the player-starved arcades giving it any life. Glancing around, I notice my faithful old time-killers and a flash of nostalgia sweeps through me. I haven’t been inside this pizza joint in moons—not since middle school, anyway. It reminds me of a time when nothing else mattered, a time when scoring high at Zombie Slayer was the highest honor of the weekend. Of a time when my big brother was still at home, and when Mom and I still got along.
Which narrator would you rather keep reading? Both tell the same story, but the second one gives more insight into who the character is, and it’s more entertaining.
In closing, I should add that, like a fine wine, our writer’s ear for voice matures over time. If you’re just starting out, you may not notice anything missing in your story, while an agent or editor or reviewer may say that the voice was “flat” or “inconsistent.” This just means there’s room for growth in this area.
Ask around for suggestions on books with compelling narrator voices. Read them, focusing on the author’s word choice, cadence, and rhythm. Once you read a story with a strong voice, you’ll know it; recognize the techniques, practice them yourself, and the knowledge will change your work for the better.
Thanks to Angela and Becca for having me here today!
Thanks for being here, PK! Voice is honestly one of those things that can make or break a story, and the best way I’ve found to improve in this area myself is to identify books that have a strong voice and study them. A few of my personal favorites? Chime (Franny Billingsley), The Wicked and the Just (J. Anderson Coats), and Above (Leah Bobet). What books stand out to you as have strong and unique voices?
PK Hrezo is the author of the Butterman (Time) Travel, Inc. series. She is also a blogger and crafter. Follow her down the rabbithole at her website.
Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling.
Good morning Becca. There is something I don’t understand about voice, or maybe I don’t accept it. It is that, when I read some thought about voice, the speech goes inevitably to how find the characters’ voice. But if I choose an omniscient POV (although I enter in the characters’ thougts), a narrator that knows all about the story and decides when and how to reveal it to readers, a narrator forged on the writer’s perspective of the story, so the problem of voice is how I must find the voice, how I can manage it? How I can find MY voice, so that I can use (and adapt) it when I write, especially in narration and description? Dialogue is a different thing. But I think that, without that personal kind of voice, something important lacks in the story. I don’t enjoy a story where there are only the characters. I want to know that the author is present, and makes me feel his presence with the choice of words, the structure of the sentences, the skill of getting the universe in a literary gem, through both simple sentences or pearls of celestial pitch. But how to be confident with words and sentences how a smith with the iron that he is crafting?
And a little smaller question, what is an example of authentic, unique and memorable voice for you? Can you give two or three authors you think have the best voices you have ever read, please? It is often difficult to find a book really worthy of being read. 🙁
Thank you so much!!
So what you’re referencing are two different kinds of voices: the character’s/narrator’s voice, and the authorial voice. The viewpoint character is going to tell the story, whether it’s a narrator in an omniscient work or one or more characters in a first or third person story. The character’s voice is going to change from character to character, obviously, since a person’s voice is unique to that person. This kind of voice is the one writers talk most about developing, since it’s the one most often used in fiction.
The authorial voice is the author’s unique way of writing——their style, if you will. It encompasses the habits, methods, nuances, and usage that you always encounter with that author. If you’ve read a certain author a lot, you’ll recognize their voice when you pick up a book of theirs. I can see your confusion (and possible resistance) about “voice” because most readers don’t want to hear the author when they’re reading a story; they want to be immersed in the character’s story. To most readers, the author’s voice in a fiction story is considered an act of intrusion, as if the author is pushing himself into the character’s story. So when you read a post like this about how to develop the character’s voice, it probably doesn’t sit well with you :).
Now the author’s voice does tend to come through more clearly when deep or tight point of view is not being used. This means that while there’s a viewpoint character, techniques are used to create more distance between the reader and the character, so the reader isn’t so deep into the character’s head.
When I think of authors with distinctive styles (ones that are consistent from book to book and are easily recognizable), some come immediately to mind: Tolkien, Laini Taylor, and Stephen King. Authors who write long book series are probably good to study, since they’ll need to be consistent in their style over the course of many books.
Interestingly enough, I would actually read the first paragraph story before the second. The first one has more flavor, more emotion, I’m in the character’s head immediately – and reveals a little less, while still giving the reader the gist. I don’t like to be given everything; I like knowing there’s a little mystery. I would definitely edit the first paragraph – stronger words, more specifics, as is mentioned above. But I like the first one!
Voice is the soul of the story, very true. We have to imagine ourself behind our character’s eyes, seeing what they say, feeling what they feel, all the rest flows out from our fingertips.
This was great! The second paragraph was better because it used specific words. Using specific words instead of general words – “Cadillac” instead of “car” – “cottage” instead of “house” – is what lends an authentic voice to writing. Thanks for the two examples. Really good reminders!
Excellent post. I loved the excercise and the suggestion to do that for all your characters to really find their voice.
I agree with Tamara and the first paragraph spoke to me more than the second.
I’ve shared the link with my writing community.
Great post and example PK. It’s always good to hear from other writers on Voice, because this is such a struggle for so many, and almost something that is part understanding, part experimentation, to really “get it.”
Totally, Angela. It took me a few stories to really get grasp on it when I was a new writer too.
Thanks again for having me!
Hi PK,
I prefer the first of your two paragraphs. It feels more authentic to me. The second feels forced and the choice of ghost town, pizza joint and moons seem a bit cliché.
I don’t know who your character is supposed to be, but in the first paragraph it feels like a late teen, possibly early twenties male who longs for a simpler, happier time in his life. The use of the brother’s name makes it more personal, gives it more feeling – more heart? The second paragraph makes me think he’s immature, slightly cocky, trying too hard to be cool. It feels shallower.
I’m sure that others will have a different take on the two examples, and I’m certainly not an expert on voice, but isn’t that what makes our writing speak to the reader? The reason one person picks up a book, eagerly reading it in the store isle, while another moves onto the next book on the shelf?
Thank you for the reminder of how important word choices are in finding the right voice to reveal our stories soul.
Yep it’s purely subjective. A voice that speaks to me, may not speak to other readers. Fortunately, there is no shortage of stories to choose from out there!
Thanks for stopping by!
This is fantastic … thank you for sharing! I agree that voice can change everything: and you gave some very powerful examples. Voice is one of my favorite tools … I enjoy the aspect of it that can either add or detract credibility from your narration. 🙂
Thanks, Angela! Exactly. I think it’s the most fun part of crafting a story too!
Awesome article!
I’m sharing on my author page and in my writing groups!
Thanks!
Sharon
Thanks Sharon! So glad you stopped by!
Thanks so much for having me, ladies!
Good stuff, PK. I’d also add there’s an “author’s voice” that kind of floats over it all, and winds and twists and weaves throughout a work. Stephen King, for example, has a very distinctive voice that connects all of his work, be it horror, thriller, or essay. You know WHO you’re reading, even if you don’t see the name on the spine.
Exactly, Jeff! It’s why readers will follow an author thru any genre they write if they decide to hop around. That authorial voice rings thru no matter what.