How to find your (writing) voice

Freeing the bold, playful, confident writer within.

Voice-envy.

You know? That feeling you get when you read something that hits you right in the gut. A piece of creative, compelling, emotional, personal storytelling by a writer who seem absolutely crystal clear on who they are and what they want to say. You're in awe. And at the same time, so jealous you want to puke.

And then you sit down to write something of your own: a blog post, an essay, a newsletter, a video script, a presentation or bio. And nothing comes out. The words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your fingers, and the few that do make it onto the page sound so bland and boring and blah that you erase them right away. You know you have a voice somewhere in there. You have a rich inner life, you have stories to tell, strong values and opinions, a sense of humor, a unique point of view. Why can't you get it to show up in your writing?

Despite my 13-year career as a wordsmith, I often experience this feeling of constipation and dread when I sit down to write.

Maybe it's because I read so much. I've always read obsessively: books, essays, articles, blogs. I subject myself to voice-envy on an almost daily basis. And I've tried to dissect what it is that makes me fall in love with a stranger, just by the way they write. It's fascinating to me.

Seeing someone on video can make us feel like we're in the room with them. And hearing their voice in a podcast can feel very personal. But somehow, reading feels even more intimate to me. It's like being inside someone's head. Without the distractions of appearance or speech patterns. It builds empathy and trust like no other medium. The written word is uniquely powerful. And learning how to write well will always be a worthwhile undertaking. Not just for professional or aspiring writers, but for anyone of us who are trying to build an audience, and make a living doing what we love.

Your words are part of the first impression people get of you online. They might read a caption on your Instagram, or stumble over your blog, or land on your website via Google. Maybe they start watching one of your videos on YouTube. But regardless of how someone finds you, it's your voice that makes them stay. That makes them want to know you better, have a relationship with you, buy what you sell, or work with you.

What is a voice, then?

For me, a writer's voice is a soup with many ingredients. Some of those ingredients are:

• Vocabulary and choice of words. (Do they like to use difficult words, made up words, jargon, slang, et.c.)

• Syntax and text formatting. (Do they use a lot of long or short sentences? Do they like to use caps, exclamation marks, emojis, or my favorite - the parenthesis?)

• The stories they tell, and how they tell them. (With vulnerability? With self-deprecating humor? With metaphors?)

• Their sense of humor. (If they let it show.)

• How they address their reader. (As a friend? As a potential client? As a colleague?)

All of these are identifying markers for your voice. You already have a writing voice, of course. We all do, although we might not like it, or like having to use it. It can take a lot of time and practice to "claim" a voice that feels truly ours.

As inexperienced writers, we often start out by trying on other writers’ voices. We experiment with new words. We might tell stories intuitively. Then we go to school, and we are taught proper grammar and spelling and punctuation. We might have our stories or texts critizised for not sticking to these rules, or for being too weird or imaginative. Our inner critic is born. Later, as we embark on our chosen career path, we might internalize an "appropriate" way to write in our field. We learn to use specific words and phrases, to stick to new rules, and to edit away all of our quirks, so that we can be taken seriously.

The result: a very bland, uncreative, impersonal, anonymous, “adult” voice that's perfect for writing job applications and customer service emails, but not much more.

This voice will take a lot of work to unlearn. It's like a straitjacket that we need to wriggle ourselves out of. A wet blanket of blandness that needs to be cast off. And once we're free of it, we can start exploring new ways to express ourselves. We can get to know our true selves on the page. We can grow bold, playful, and confident in the way we use language. And as we do, our words will flow easier. And they will magnetically pull some people (our people) to us, and reject others.

This rejecting - putting some people off - is a non-negotiable. We have to be fine with not appealing to everyone if we want to really appeal to someone. We can view our voice as a kind of beacon that pulls a lot of people to us, and then magically filters them for us. The stronger your voice, the more effective this beacon/filter becomes.

A strong, compelling voice is how you will set yourself apart from everyone else, make a difference in peoples' lives, and build a business doing your favorite thing.

What makes for a compelling voice?

What a strong, compelling voice sounds like is subjective, of course. But to me, it has a few key features:

• It's vulnerable, relatable, and honest.

• It's opinionated, and doesn't shy away from taking a stance.

• It sometimes ignores traditional rules of grammar and syntax in favor of personal expression.

• It will likely offend and/or annoy some people, as is the case with anything that's personal.

It's easy to appreciate these things in another writer's work, but a whole other beast to practice them yourself. Writing this way can feel deeply uncomfortable. Like we're baring our body, heart and soul, all at the same time. We are naturally afraid of offending others, of exposing our soft underbelly, of being judged, criticized, mocked, humiliated. I'm terrified of these things. On a bad day, I let those fears hold me back in my writing. I stay small and safe and bland, to avoid attracting too much attention (good or bad.) I overthink, I edit away sensitive details or obscure references, I remove swear words, knowing there will be less of "me" on the page.

Developing one's voice is a continuous practice. Sometimes our voice is naturally strong and flows easily onto the page, other times we have to go digging for it. Sometimes the voice is there in the first draft but edited away in the final draft. Sometimes, it's the reverse. Cultivating a strong writing voice demands conscious effort. That doesn't mean that we have to force it though.

A writer's voice is very similar to an artist's art style. As with an art style, you can't force or rush a voice. You can't analyze your way to it. You simply do the work, and your voice will develop. It will mature, go through various phases, and eventually grow in strength. Like practicing with a weapon or a musical instrument. (Both are good metaphors for a writer's voice, I think.)

That said, I believe there are things you can do to aid this process. To make your practice more deliberate, and speed up the development of your writing voice.

5 steps to finding your writing voice

1. Read. A lot

Yes, you will feel voice-envy. But it's worth it, because you can use that envy as inspiration. You can steal favorite words and phrases and metaphors. You don't even have to do it deliberately. I believe we subconsciously digest and assimilate everything we read. It's all kept somewhere in the depths of our minds, like a huge soup of influences mixed with our own thoughts and associations. We draw upon this soup every time we write. By reading, we add to the soup, making it richer, and thus our own writing gets richer too.

Read especially the type of texts that you want to write. If you want to write good essays or blog posts or newsletters: subscribe to, and read, a lot of other writers in that field. It keeps your creative well filled up, and helps you come up with ideas for what you want to write about.

2. Keep a journal

This is a crucial one for me. My journal is the only place in the world where I can be entirely myself. It is my safe space, my creative playground, my therapist's couch, my war room, my sanctuary.

My journal is where I go to find my voice when I've lost it. It's where I "clear my throat" before writing sessions. It's where I dream freely, speak without fear, and unload all of my worries. I simply could not live and function without my journaling practice.

You might not need a journal for all of the same things I do. But it's indispensible for finding and cultivating your voice. Before you can feel confident writing in public, you need to first feel confident writing for yourself. You need a space where your words are allowed to flow freely. Where you can be your full, true self. Where your voice won't be tainted (consciously or unconsciously) by the knowledge that you will publish this later.

Your journal is that space.

3. Start a regular writing practice

This goes without saying. There can be no improvement without practice. Reading books about writing is no substitute for writing. (Believe me, I've tried...) The only way to get over that awkward, constipated, anxious feeling is to just write and publish, write and publish, write and publish. Preferably in a place where the stakes are low. Where you can safely put out your thoughts and stories and not worry too much about who will read them and what they will think.

If you already have an audience, and a writing platform, you can simply start publishing there more often. But in my experience, this can feel very hard. Maybe you've written in a specific way, about a specific topic, and you want to break free from that. You're not sure if your audience would like that though. And that's the kind of thing that will really hold you back from your authentic self.

Whenever I've wanted to re-invent my voice or free myself of old constraints, I've started a new outlet somewhere, with zero followers. Nothing gets me going like having no baggage, no audience, and no established niche or brand to uphold. I get a fresh start. If you're in a similar place, consider starting a brand new blog, or newsletter, or Substack. Don’t tell anyone about it yet. Use it as a nursery for your voice. You can lead your pre-existing audience there later if you want to, once you've gathered momentum and confidence. Or you can let it grow organically. The most important concern here is not who's going to read, it's to get you writing as easily and as often as possible.

4. Have a particular person in mind when you write

Writing for a faceless crowd just feels weird. For me, I default to imagining a huge stadium, (or let's be more realistic: a small movie theater. Or a dinner table), of very sceptical, easily bored strangers. This might be true in some cases: a lot of readers might stumble upon my piece without knowing me. They might skim a few paragraphs, decide it’s not for them, and then leave.

But these are not the people I'm writing for. And so I won't make the mistake of adjusting my voice to fit a reader I don't particularly care about. Because that would be at the expense of the readers I do care about.

Know who you're talking to. Have a very specific person, or type of person, in mind when you write. Who this person is depends on why and what you write. If you write primarily to market your business and sell your wares or services, you should imagine your ideal customer when you write. This does not mean that you need to adopt that typical, eager-to-please "marketing speak" that everyone uses when they want to sell something. Speaking as a former freelance copywriter, I've been guilty of this so many times. It took me years to realize that my clients, even though they were business owners, were human beings first. They, too, appreciated a bit of personality, relatability, and humor. I did not need to "speak their language" by tossing around industry jargon, statistics and figures in a desperate attempt to look professional. I constantly forgot who I was speaking to, and who I wanted to serve. It was only after I adjusted my voice that I started attracting exactly the types of clients I actually wanted. Clients who also felt like friends. Remember: your voice is a beacon. Who do you want to attract?

I write to help, to inspire, and to build relationships with others like me. And so I like to imagine a close friend when I write. It makes me feel comfortable enough to be personal and vulnerable. And it sets the right tone for my voice.

If you address your reader directly, do it as if they are the only one reading. Because they are. In that moment, there's only you and them, in your story. By addressing your readers as a group, (as in: "hi everyone", or "how are you guys feeling"), you break this spell. Now, your reader just feels like someone in a crowd. They don't feel as close to you.

Choose one person, and write only to that person. That's the trick to making your writing feel personal and compelling.

5. Write more like you talk

Another trick to make your writing feel more relaxed, more "like you", is to write more like you speak. We each have a talking voice and a writing voice. Our talking voice is the one we use at home, or with friends and co-workers, in relaxed situations. It has uhm's and ah's, filler words, slang, sound effects, and unfinished sentences. It's bursting with personal flair.

Then we have our writing voice. It is well-articulated, (it says "it is" instead of "it's", for example), and spell checked. It tends to be a bit stiff, use fancy words, or contain overstuffed, complicated, and unnecessarily long sentences, (like this one.)

When we write, we are tempted to perfect our grammar, use our full vocabulary, and make ourselves sound as knowledgeable and smart as possible. We try too hard, and it makes our text harder to read. This type of language is great for academic papers, news stories, or...whatever it is lawyers write. (Contracts?) Not when writing personal, relationship-building texts meant for the distracted eyes of online readers.

I'm not saying that we should toss all grammar out the window, or start littering our writing with uhm's and ah's. But by working more of your talking voice into your writing voice, you inject more of that personal flair into it.

Try shortening your sentences, for example. Use simpler words. Not because you think your audience can't understand complex language, but because your message is the point, not the language. Start sentences with “and”, like a goddamn rebel. Write a story the way you would have told it to a friend over coffee. Simple, honest, and human.

And there you have it.

Now go forth, and write that thing. Write it boldy and confidently, the way only you can.

And the next time you read something that hits you in the gut, that makes you green with voice-envy: save it, share it, celebrate it. Then analyze it, borrow from it, add it to the great soup within you, and let it enrich your own voice.