Look Who’s Talking (Day #33)
On Thursday, Kristen of Motherese wrote a thought-provoking post about targeted speech – how we speak differently to different people. We all do it. We change our accents, our tones, our intonations. Our words, even. We change ourselves to match the people around us. To make them more comfortable. To make ourselves more comfortable.
This post got me thinking about the difference between speech and voice. As Kristen points out, we change the former all the time, adapting our manner or style of speaking to fit our audience. But what about the latter?
Writers talk a lot about “voice,” a shorthand way to refer to perspective or point of view. We, as writers, have voices. So do our characters.
A couple of weeks ago, I told you that I ruined a perfectly productive day when I abandoned my characters voices for my own. At the time, I thought it was an easy fix – a simple case of voice confusion that would be remedied by my awareness of it. I just needed to remember to turn my blogging voice off when I sat down to write. Right?
Not that simple.
Here’s what I’ve discovered: my blogging voice isn’t something I just put on when it’s blog time. Turns out that what you’re hearing right now, this voice, with all its insecurities and uncertainties, is my voice. Unadulterated.
This was a startling and somewhat disconcerting discovery.
But why? you ask. Blogs are supposed to be honest and real and raw.
Yes. Blogs are supposed to be honest and real and raw. I intended for this particular blog to be honest and real and raw. But the person who writes this blog sounds like a mommy. The person who writes this blog writes from a mommy’s perspective. She has a mommy’s point of view. So this voice, it couldn’t possibly be my real voice.
Except that it is.
On one level – a personal level – this is reassuring, because it means that I am adapting quite well to what my friend B called (with his tongue firmly lodged in his cheek) “my new persona.” I have found my footing in this new world. I am not just acting as if. It also means that this blog is exactly what I wanted it to be – a place where I would force myself to be honest and real and raw.
But on another level – a professional level – this is a problem. Okay, so maybe “problem” is a bit of an overstatement, but it’s an issue. Because I am writing a teen novel. With teen characters. Teen voices. And while I wasn’t a teenager six weeks ago, six weeks ago I could simply summon my teenage self whenever I needed to find these voices because, really, my teenage self wasn’t all that different from my pre-baby-twenty-something self. In a lot of ways, her voice was still my voice. Which made it easy.
It’s harder now.
My voice has changed. Noticeably. Irrevocably. I sound different. To myself. To Husband. To friends. I sound different because I am different. Noticeably. Irrevocably.
This shouldn’t affect my writing, but it does. Part of me wonders if this makes me less of a writer. After all, shouldn’t I be able to set myself aside when I write?
The answer, of course, is yes. And the truth is, I can. But the other truth is that this voice I’ve found, the voice you’re hearing right now, it fits pretty snug. Like I was made to wear it.
(Have you found that your voice has changed since become a wife/mom/fill-in-the-blank? Do you adapt your speech to fit different your audience? Do you love Motherese as much as I do?)
becca
Tuesday, 2 March, 2010 at 6:45It is so hard right after you become a mom to adjust to your new voice. But eventually I think, that voice becomes more comfortable and you realize you can have the voice of a mom, a writer, a blogger and the YOU you’ve always known all at once. It’s not easy at first, I definitely remember having a bit of an identity crisis in the weeks and months following the birth of my first. But then I did embrace it and wasn’t quite so freaked out by it!
Great post! I’m so glad I found you!
Rebecca @ Diary of a Virgin Novelist
Sunday, 28 February, 2010 at 16:39No matter what your real voice is, it is always a struggle to develop authentic and strong voices for our characters. I could see how since yours is changing that that might add another element to the mix, make it a bit harder I suppose. But I would also argue that you are MORE now. And being more, feeling more, can only be helpful to your writing.
Theresa Milstein
Sunday, 28 February, 2010 at 16:07I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Like other commenters, I agree that you’ll get your voice back. Becoming a mother is huge, but if you don’t get lost in it, it becomes routine after no time. There have been writers who have written for decades, and their distinct voices have shined through all of their experiences.
Amber
Saturday, 27 February, 2010 at 20:29Yes, I do love Motherese as much as you do!! : )
My voice has changed. I’d like to think it has become calmer, but I think it has become more hurried. As in “Yes, IlovePlato’sthoughtsonthat hold on–Don’t bite your brother!!–I’m back, andIthinkhemadeareallygoodpoint…” Luckily, all my friends’ speeches are just as hurried. That is why I love supportive friends.
OK, seriously though? Yes, my voice has changed. I have become more aware of things around me. I don’t (usually) charge into things head on like I used to. I use a softer tone. I like that.
BigLittleWolf
Saturday, 27 February, 2010 at 19:42Interesting post. (First off – of course I love Kristen’s blog!)
A writer’s voice is a fascinating issue. Writers or not, we all have voices of different sorts, that we pull out of our toolbelts on appropriate occasions. A “work” self with the boss, a “work” self with colleagues, a “work” self with clients or customers (yes, there are variations of voice in our interactions in each of those scenarios).
We have different voices with parents, siblings, friends, strangers, neighbors, lovers, spouses – and of course – children.
Our layers of self (and the way we communicate accordingly) are constantly evolving. But writers recognize “voice” as the self that shines through a character, or a particular writing purpose/style/POV.
When my boys were babies, I worked outside the home. It allowed me to retain both a “mother” self and an independent professional adult self. I’m glad I did that. It worked for me, and as they got a little older, working from a home office (so I was also full-time mom) worked for me. By then, I knew I still had access to all the necessary voices – if that makes any sense.
You will own them all. You do, still. Right now, motherhood is a new voice – and an amazing one (and powerful) voice at that. In time, it will be easier to slip in and out of the necessary voices – in life, and in writing.
(And the good news – from what I can tell – you never slip out of the motherhood voice. And that’s very cool.)
Hope
Saturday, 27 February, 2010 at 13:10Hmmm…interesting thoughts for the day.
But I’m so glad you like your mommy voice. I’m sure it does fit very snuggly.
Also, happy birthday next week!!! 30 is going to be a great age. 🙂
Kristen @ Motherese
Saturday, 27 February, 2010 at 11:42Thank you so much, sweet friend! Your kind words are a balm on my potty-training-weary soul!
I love your observations here and am grateful to you for continuing the conversation about speech and voice. First of all, I absolutely agree that the voice I use on my blog is my authentic voice; it’s one of the things I love about blogging: a place to connect to my real self. And yes, I do think my voice has changed since becoming a mom – and like you, I kind of like the way it rings in my throat. 🙂