More Voice Class Revelations

I’m still processing what I learned from Barbara Samuel's voice class.

Seriously.

I can list twenty things I discovered about my voice or about writing voice in general but when one says “discuss three revelations you had about your own voice” and everyone digs deep (see Macy's post, Katrina's post and Jackie's post to see what I mean), I automatically think I need to come up with something deep, and meaningful, too. Three major insights. As our classmate, Mel, pointed out, Barbara is good muse food. My muses, including two new ones I met courtesy of Barbara's phenomenal voice class, are still hand weaving together the weft and warp threads of the tapestry.

Hmm. The tapestry thing works here. Let's incorporate that.

What I've come to realize is "voice" is complicated, intricate, complex, like a tapestry. It comprises everything you are, who you are, and how you came to be that way. I do truly get that now. It’s your vibe, rhythm, world view, word choice, design, cadence, speed, pulse, personal truth, way of seeing, way of being, senses and sensibilities, landscape, personal and cultural history, likes and dislikes, theme songs and more. It’s not your genre or writing style, although your voice may be better suited to one genre or subgenre over another, and one style over another. No wonder it’s a source of puzzlement, a topic debated, difficult to define.

After listing 25 loves, describing a favorite place, listing favorite movies and books at different ages, examining dialects and who taught us to speak, discussing cultures we’re attracted to and that surrounded us when we were growing up, doing timed writings on photos we selected and that were selected for us, exploring themes, describing the book we’d write if we could only write one (yikes!), talking about primary senses and sensibilities, describing our favorite outfit, writing fan letters to ourselves from our ideal reader, describing our 80^th birthday parties complete with advice from our 80 year old selves for our current selves, and choosing what type of artist we’d be if we couldn’t be writers, our culminating exercise as part of a final worksheet was to come up with a “voice statement.” I’ll start there.

My original voice statement went like this, “My voice is hip, bold, edgy, bright, darkly witty, passionate and soulful. It will rock you!”

I knew it wasn’t exactly right but it was close and I liked it. By then, I had discovered a couple of things. First when I described my favorite outfit the words I used to describe it were hip, mod, bohemian, rock chic but in an age appropriate urban minimalist type way. I asked Barbara about the significance of the outfit and she said something like your favorite outfit represents your inner self. Your true self. After completing that exercise, I found myself thinking things like I wanted to be the Sheryl Crow of women’s fiction or romance, or possibly, young adult romance or fiction (I’ll get back to the latter later.) I wasn’t sure what that meant. Barbara said she thought of Sheryl Crow as hip, independent and soulful. My insides thrummed and sang, “Perfect.” I’m hip, independent and soulful, too.

Given these early clues, it wasn’t surprising that for my artist other than a writer, I chose rock star, although movie director and dancer were close behind. The more I thought about it, the more perfect the idea of being a rock star seemed, given that talent wasn’t a limiting factor. In my imagination, I AM a rock star. I like to dance, sing, live out loud, rock the masses, support good causes. And in my imagination I look like Peggy Lipton of the Mod Squad. Or Kate Moss. Or Kate Hudson in Almost Famous. Or Sheryl Crow. You get the idea. Since the class ended, I’ve gone out and gotten myself some rock star hair and I absolutely love it. I’m a rock star writer. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m not.

Here’s what I mean by that. For as long as I can remember, and as long as I’ve been writing, I’ve had people tell me that either I or my writing are: bold, passionate, edgy, raw, “out loud,” intense, in your face, kick ass, bawdy, lusty, unedited, not subtle or mainstream, irreverent, rebellious, like bright, bright lights turned on too high, hip, cool, and so on. I’ve sometimes tried to tone myself down, and I’ve sometimes tried to do that with my writing, too. It’s freeing to say, hell, I’m a rock star, baby, and that’s that. I’m not the subdued soccer mom or even the romance writer next door ( not that all soccer moms or romance writers are the same). My novels will be fast, bold, intense, edgy, out loud, bawdy, lusty, rebellious and rocking. Not lush, rich, emotional opera. Not smooth jazz. Not sultry blues. Not pop, although some stories may have pop-like hooks, especially in the chorus. Not down home country. Not classical for brainiacs either. Not goth or punk or pared down, moody alternative grunge. Not techno. Rock, baby. Classic rock. Hip, independent, soulful, and perhaps, a bit old school cuz I have a thing for all things late sixties and seventies. I can own that. I even have the hair now to prove it. LOL.

In her final comments to me, Barbara mentioned that I might face some desires to "polish" my work into something more "mainstream," and I shouldn't let that happen. She said, “What's vibrant and true about your voice is the fact that you are able to tell the truth, tell it intelligently, and don't wince away from the dark places.”

I liked that. I suspected it and appreciated the confirmation. I’ve already tried polishing one novel into something more mainstream and I ended up hating it. Blech! My story lost all its oomph. I think there’s a reason that I started out writing chick lit, toyed with mainstream, and then changed my chick lit novel to an irreverent romantic comedy. I’m not classical romance. Heck, my husband says although I’m passionate and soulful, I don’t have a classically romantic bone in my body. (Sad, but true.) I'm also rebellious so the moment someone shows me a list of conventions, or a contest score sheet, or tells me there are rules, or forces craft down my throat (although I actually do believe craft is important), I start thinking about all the ways I can buck the system. It might make getting published tricky, but the bottom line is I need to follow my true north. I have to be who I am. I have to write in my voice. I have no other choice. As for publishing, I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Since my voice statement wasn’t spot on, I’ve been thinking about it some more. Barbara said there was another angle to my writing, my work, which was that it was both intelligent and street smart. I want to work that in.

My voice is hip, bold, edgy, fast, rockin', irreverent, streetwise, smart, fun, passionate and soulful.

Closer. I also happen to think I’m funny, but I don’t know that anyone else does (grin.)

Since this post is so long already, I’ll continue it over at my individual blog to give you a breather. And I’ll get back to the Young Adult thing over there.

Cheers and happy writing,

Alyson