When one discusses poets and fiction writers, the term “voice” is frequently mentioned. The writer’s voice is the persona or personality that is projected throughout the work. If an artist’s voice is distinctive and consistent, then one can identify the author of the work after reading a small portion of the project. Capturing or identifying one’s voice is not an easy task. One would think that a writer merely writes, and the voice will emerge on its own. That’s not necessarily the case, however. Rookie writers often betray their amateurism by the helter-skelter nature of their work. So, is “voice” a result of crafting or a product of thorough introspection? Yes…a little bit of each.
The “voice” of a writer is an elusive thing. Knowing oneself well enough to identify the inner essence is not an easily performed exercise. Most of us, most of the time avoid the type of introspective analysis that might reveal weakness or expose painful damage. Knowing oneself can be an unpleasant encounter, but it is a vital step in the development of a “voice.” The crafting aspect becomes important after one has completed the internal survey. The writer must command the tools that are vital for transmission of the voice to readers. In the final analysis, the writer must first identify the voice then skillfully share the persona with the reader.
Why am I wasting an entire entry on “voice?” It’s early in the life of this blog that is dedicated to whimsy and fiction, and I am groping to find my voice. When I write political entries for www.littlestuff-minoosha.blogspot.com , my voice is rather developed. Some would describe it as a raving lunatic, but I prefer to describe my approach as a logical cynic who is highly suspicious and skeptical of government. My greatest hurdle when attempting to define or refine my voice for this blog is that I don’t want to be identified as angry. I do have warm feelings and positive passions. Just recently, I enjoyed a series of correspondence with someone from my distant past who helped to remind me that I haven’t always been so jaded. At one time I was innocent, thoughtless and stupid, but I had dreams…joyful dreams.
That is my goal. To find my lost voice.
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