Developing a voice... or is it discovering?

When I entered the side of the internet for writers and authors, I started hearing a discussion about “author voice”, your prose when writing. Obviously, I knew that everyone had a different voice when writing. But when I saw advice on how to develop one I remember getting a little confused.

What was my author’s voice? How did I write?

And here’s that story for you.

Table of Contents

1. How it Began

2. My First Mistake

3. The Second Mistake

4. So, what is my style?

5. Updates!

How it Began

When I first started writing in 3rd grade, little me didn’t have much imagination. I didn’t think anything of it. My stories really consisted of repeating the role play and make believe games my friends and I would act out during recess. Heroes, monarchs, enemies, simple silly stories.

When I started reading Warriors, my playground stories turned instead towards Warriors fanfictions. I was the child of Scourge, the mate of some cat, the strong rouge who joins a clan. Several silly stories that kids write at that age.

It wasn’t just the content that I mimicked. Warriors is a very non-dialogue centric series. Most of the word count is dedicated towards scenery, descriptions, thoughts, and other similar things. Which is how I would write.

But there was a problem.

My First Mistake

I don’t have imagination.

Haha, let me rephrase.

June 19, 2015 Inside Out hit theaters. Once the movie was available in home to watch, I watched it with my family. I don’t like this movie (I know, it’s critically acclaimed, kids love it, I find it so boring), but there was one scene that surprised me.

Riley has just moved. She goes upstairs and looks around her new and empty room. Joy perks up, having Riley look around the room, imagining where everything goes.

I am incapable of doing this. Since I was a kid, I couldn’t close my eyes and see things. The best example I can give is a shirt. In retail, I would get told to grab a shirt. I would go up and look at the shirt, and then walk away to the display. And have no idea what I was looking for. Even if I was looking right at the one I needed.

Instead, I would have to give myself cues. “Red with a car on it”, and repeat that phrase to myself over and over as I walked to the display area.

I was describing scenery that I could not see. Or even really cared about. Then I realized, whenever books showed detailed descriptions of something, those were the parts I enjoyed the least.

I cannot imagine faces, or colors. I can see vague shapes, but the more detailed something is, the less I can see it. Machines, for example. Moving machines, I physically cannot comprehend when I close my eyes. And the harder I try, the more of a headache I develop. The ability to “see” is not one that I possess.