A wise person once said, "The worst sin in the world is being boring." Don't ask me for a source on that quote, because frankly, I'm too lazy to Google it just now.

So how does that little pearl of wisdom relate to developing a strong writer's voice? Well, your voice is what makes what you produce uniquely yours. It is your signature, your flair, your je ne sais quoi that imbues or inculcates (impregnates?) your work with, well, youness. I'm not trying to be vague or obtuse, it's just that you know, I have to USE MY WORDS and OMG.....

Let me bring this discussion down to Earth so I can start talking particulars. I'll talk about my favorite subject: ME. As you can already tell, being snarky and (at least) slightly disrespectful is my little trademark, but that's not the entirety of my voice. I like being direct as well as snarky. I eschew obfuscation. I use ironic humor and banter in my everyday speech and writing. I respect makers and creators above all else (which is why I have so much fun pointing out the shortcomings of social media douchenozzles). 

As an aside, we don't have enough time to talk about how the rest of my life, my non-Logos activity (logos in the sense of the Greek word for the, uh, word, and not logos designed by graphic designers), defines me, but it all comes together in a not-so-pretty package. My running helps define my point of view, as do my politics, my movie watching preferences (the 3 Bs: Boobs, Bombs, and Better Not Forget the Blasphemy), and on and on and on and on.

(And yes, having lots of asides is part of my style, which is related to voice, but let's not open that can.)

For a lot of what I do, if I were to take my byline off of it, you'd read it and think, "Hey, that myerman guy probably wrote this, or he'd really appreciate reading this AND meeting the snarkapotomus who did write this."

Now, the wonderful thing about developing a strong voice is that STRONG does not always equal any of the following: mean, sad, snarky, satiric, humorous, sexy, annoying, rude, silly, plaintive, confused, or bewildered. Or necessarily any of those things in combination. What is important about a strong voice is that it always tells the truth, and YES VIRGINIA there is truth in fiction. You may have never killed your elderly landlady, but you live through that truth when you read Crime and Punishment.

A voice says, in a loud, and clear I'm-not-fucking-around-here, uh VOICE, that the writer is confident, and isn't afraid to speak in a plain way, straight from the gut, to his or her audience. A strong voice says that a writer is willing to forgo the usual bullshit literary parlor games in which he or she uses a lot of big words or fancy syntax or convoluted plot points that serve only to impress other writers, and deep sixes all that and actually tells the truth about something.

Furthermore, a strong voice also says that the writer understands the audience and is trying to reach them, and to hell with everyone else. I've known so many budding writers strangled in their early careers by feelings of guilt or remorse--"What will my mother think when she reads this?"

With all due respect to your mother, screw that, and screw anyone else who isn't part of your audience. You've got something to say, and there are people out there who are starving for your insight or viewpoint. They may not know it yet, but they're sitting in a sandbox eating cat turds when what they really want is something more substantive.

That substantive thing ALWAYS comes from a writer who is willing to put their thing down. Substance never comes from any graduates of a six-year Grammar Fascist Boot Camp run by humorless nuns. I used to joke that it took me three years to unlearn all the stupid writing advice I got in college and graduate school, to find out who I was and what I had to say.

So how do you get started on developing a voice? Well, you have to start with what makes you the most comfortable. Your comfort zone might be a certain cockeyed perspective of the world, or it may be the methodical, patient attitude you take when you explain things in writing. It could be how you weave your own religious and political beliefs into the pieces you write. Or it could be your personal belief that what you're writing about is the best damn fun you can have with your clothes on.

Lastly, your voice could be chiefly characterized by your diction and syntax. I joked earlier about writers who pen fancy books that seem to have only other writers as their audience. Well, dammit, that is a voice, and as much as I like to make fun of those writers, it's not a bad living if you can pull it off.

I've gone around and around on this, and now it's time to ask some questions. What specific bits about voice are you interested in?

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