Tag: Voice

  • Point of View

    I am in the midst of reading Ann Somerville’s “Games & Consequences” and it brings up for me an interesting question. First, an explanation.

    The story is a sequel of sorts, following the tale “Remastering Jerna”. Set in a unique world with interesting alterations from our own, the tale is told from the perspective of Jerna, a wrongly accused man. I greatly enjoyed that read, and looked forward to the next.

    “Games & Consequences” is good, too. I’m not disappointed. However, the changed perspective (now from Jerna’s male lover) brings up the question as to what readers prefer. Do most folks prefer that the author stick with one character’s point of view?

    Knowing there are many schools of thought, I’d be curious to know your opinion.

  • Life in L.A., two years ago

    When you’re a writer and go through misery, and later write it down because you’re so awful effen mad and sick about it all, it becomes something more. Something kind of funny that you can look back on and say, thank God I don’t have to live through that again. It also becomes story fodder.

    This is one my personal favorites. Seventy-five minutes of my life, over two years ago when I used to depend on public transportation to get to work and back home again. My days were twelve hours long. This day was almost fourteen hours long.

    Why did the Hoosier girl cross the busy Los Angelian road?

    Because she had to pee. (No, wait. Because Keanu Reeves was on the other side of it, waiting for her in a soft gray stretch limo.)

    So okay, her bus was half an hour late. And she’d decided to call a cab, but she wanted to do it back inside the building where she worked because the road was loud with traffic, making cell phone conversation about as much fun as getting an uncoated aspirin stuck in your throat. Why not re-enter the building, place the call for a cab, then pee?

    Only the door was locked. So she made the call on a full bladder, with one finger in her ear to try and block out raging traffic sounds. Just as she’s doing this, the bus–her bus–comes roaring up to the intersection. The bus is on the other side of a six-lane road and the light is green. It barely slows down. And then poof, it’s gone.

    She laughs, but she still has to pee so it’s not really that funny.

    She spies Frenchy inside the building and knocks on the side door. He knows her. He’ll let her in, even if it is after hours and dark outside. Theoretically he could smirk, shake his head at her, and she’d have to live with so sad, your dad, but she’s wearing the black Captain and Tennille hat and black leather coat, a look that ensures entrance.

    Four minutes later, she’s standing back in front of the building, awaiting her knight in yellow metal. Meanwhile, she yaks on her cell phone. Ten minutes go by. She wonders where her cab is and as the minutes pass, the thought becomes all-consuming, overriding thoughts of wine, the cold and food. She tries not to think about her friend’s friend who was recently been mugged.

    Fifteen minutes after that, Hoosier girl calls the cab company again and learns that they canceled her cab because the cab driver didn’t see her standing where she said she would be and because he couldn’t reach her by phone. For whatever reason, there was no beep of interruption to let her know someone else was trying to get through. If the cabbie even tried to call her. She has her doubts. Actually, in a world gone awry, she’s aswarm with them.

    Hoosier girl begins walking back to the bus stop because it’s almost time for the next bus and she figures she might as well take that bus since Fate’s decided kicking back in a cab isn’t going to happen. She’s halfway back to the bus stop when the next bus roars up to the intersection, five minutes early.

    Run? Scream? Laugh? Cry? Pee?

    These thoughts go through her brain as the bus squeals to a stop. For three heartbeats it stays there and the anticipation is heavy, like just before you climax. Then the light turns green, the bus rounds the corner and that’s that.

    This is not fiction. This is her life.

  • The Voices in Your Head

    Voice. It’s the Holy Grail of creative writing. In fact, it’s a rather poor word for something that cannot really be put into words. I say that because there are many different uses of the term voice. There’s the technical – active vs. passive voice, and then there’s the narrative voice/character voice. There’s also the writer’s voice, and another term that is often used interchangeably – tone.

    The voice I am searching for is that one that defies definition. Really, as you’ll see if you read on – I’m talking about voice as a state of mind. Oh, by the way – let me just state for the record now that I am not an expert, or a professor, or even a published author (yet) and this is just my opinion – take it or leave it.

    So, what is this mysterious ‘voice’ thingy?

    I’m as befuddled as anyone. The voice in writing is something that cannot be defined. It cannot be learned. It cannot be taught. You either have it, or you have yet to find it. Sometimes even after you’ve found it, it comes and goes, seemingly at will. My favorite definition (of many) that I’ve run across in my personal quest is this one:

    Voice is the “force that drives a piece of writing forward.”

    Right. That makes so much more sense now. Thanks.

    Basically, voice is the lubricant between the words you are shooting at them, and your readers’ minds. Voice will either make what you are trying to communicate flow smoothly, or falter. Sure, there are MANY other factors that can hinder information flow – but voice, when used correctly, is what engages your reader. Think about it in terms of acting: You could have someone recite the lines in the script dry and monotone, or you could have someone play the part – add a personality to it, make it real. The difference is in the ‘delivery’ of the line. That’s exactly what you’re trying to capture with voice – a unique delivery. Voice, just like any other writing tool, will enhance the packaging of your story.

    I’m sold. How do I get me some?

    Before discussing some ways to bring voice to your writing, let’s take a look at a few of the different types of voice, just so we’re clear:

    Narrative Voice
    This is the voice of the narrator of your story, and is thus tied directly to point of view. This voice establishes the position the narrator (and hence, the reader) will have in relation to the events of the story. A story could be told that happened long before the narrator lived, or it could be something the narrator witnessed first hand, or the narrator could be omniscient (know everything). Narrators can also be more(close/deep POV) or less(objective POV) involved in the events and the characters’ thoughts and feelings.

    A third-person narrator tells us who, what and why something is important, and how it relates to us. We have to trust our narrator to tell us the truth, and to give us all of the important facts. But more than that, the narrator has to make us care, to convince us to invest in the characters and their struggle. Anyone can tell a story. Making someone want to hear it is what narrative voice does.

    The perfect example of a strong narrative voice:

    “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” – Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

    Even though this narrator stands at the edge of the opening scene like an observer, we have an instant feel for who this person is(someone educated, unafraid of making such a bold statement), what sort of a situation they are heralding from(a time/place where rich men were expected to marry), and exactly what they think of those circumstances(can you say sarcasm?).

    Character Voice
    This can be present in both first and third person narrative, though it’s trickier in the third person. Unless you’re in the first person, character voice is slightly distinct from the narrative voice. You find this technique used when the story is told from multiple points of view. The difference in character voice serves to distinguish one from the next. The ‘deeper’ or ‘closer’ the third person narration is, the more ‘wrapped’ in voice it can be.

    Let’s take an over-simplified example. I’ll try to wrap the sentence “You never know when your luck is gonna change,” in different voices, just for kicks:

    “You never know when your luck is gonna change.” Charlotte smiled and closed her eyes as she threw the shiny new penny over her shoulder. It landed in the fountain with a soft plink.

    Agent Sorenson pressed the still-hot muzzle of his pistol against Johnny Fresco’s temple. “You never know when your luck is gonna change,” he whispered, low, deadly.

    Now, what’s different? Sure, each of them is in a different scenario. One’s a man, one’s a woman. One is hopeful and light, one is not good news. But how? Why? There’s nothing fundamentally different about the line in either case. It’s the delivery that has changed – the wrapping.

    The Writer’s Voice
    I can’t find any clear definition for what constitutes the writer’s/author’s voice. I believe it is a mix of narrative and character voice (as I’ve described them here) as well as another element, called tone, or mood. Tone, mood, and voice are often used interchangeably. But for my purposes, I’ll say that the tone sets the mood and determines the voice. By tone, I mean the ‘overall feel’ of the writing. Is it formal or casual? Acedemic/informative, or strictly entertaining/light? Is it down and gritty erotic, or is it wistfully romantic? The tone you use to write in will set the mood for the reader. It also determines what voice will be used.

    I’d like to throw in another term, and call it message. I believe that this is the soul of the writer’s voice. What is the deeper message you want your story to carry? Is it that we all end up down on our luck, and it’s what we make of those times that determines our value? Is it that you should never wear white shoes after Labor Day? Whatever it is, it all starts there. What is your message – what tone, mood and voice do you need to get that message across?

    And what am I supposed to do with all this mumbo-jumbo?

    Now that I’ve gone in a great big circle, we can talk about the elements of voice. This, I promise, is less confusing. There are basically two things that determine voice: word choices and pacing. How long are your sentences, and what are they made of? It really is that simple. Is it a short, clipped delivery of sharp, cutting words? Or is it long, flowy and descriptive? (And yes, I meant to type flowy. Flow-y. It’s not a word, but it should be.)

    Once you’ve discovered what your voice IS, all you have to do is stick to it by asking yourself, “How would ‘so and so’ say this?” That ‘so and so’ is either a character, your narrator, or you. All of them reside in your own head (hopefully). So, the first step on your quest for voice is to get to know the voices in your own head and start to distinguish them from each other. What makes them unique? Or, if you can’t quite manage that – pick up a book, and start hunting for the voice – look at the word choices, and the pacing and try to find patterns. I wish I had more concrete stuff to give you, but it’s still sort of a mystery to me.

    If you figure it out, will you let me know?