Voice

(Photo Credit: Google Image)

I have a short list of names here that I’d like you to find the common factor among these people (read: one thing they have in common). Simple, right? Okay, let’s go. 

1.     ABBA (Agnetha Fältskog, Björn Ulvaeus, Benny Andersson, and Anni-Frid Lyngstad)

2.     Jack Black. 

3.     Peter Cetera. 

4.     Morgan Freeman. 

5.     Michael Jackson.

6.     James Earl Jones. 

Have you noticed? Have you spotted that “one thing” they all share in common other than the fact that they’re all somewhat famous media entertainers?

Yes?

Did you say . . . they all have distinctive voices, like I knew you were going to say? Like I knew if you heard any one of these artists’ voice on the radio you’d undoubtedly recognize it, shouting, “Oh, that’s ABBA!” or “Hey, that’s Jack Black!” or “That’s Peter Cetera, Morgan Freeman, Michael Jackson, and James Earl Jones! Wow! How did they get all the most distinctive voices together like they did in We Are the World?”

Remember We Are the World? (If, for any reason, you don’t, please watch this youtube video, provided for your convenience, before reading the rest of the article. Thanks.)

Remember in 1985 when the Billboard #1 single U.S. A. for Africa––We Are the World came out and shook the world with the emotional collective superpower of the most popular 80s American pop singers? Without watching the video, can you honestly know which singer sang what part of the lyric? Maybe. Maybe not. But in the chorus, can you correctly identify any of the distinctive voice that belongs to a specific individual? 

I know you’re thinking, “What kind of stupid question is that? It’s a chorus. Everybody’s voice is blended together. How do you identify anyone’s voice?”

You’re right. You’re right. 

Considering the nature of a chorus, it’s understandable that for a non-singer like me I feel safe to lip-sync in a chorus, to hide my croaking, breathless, off-key voice. To shamelessly, guiltlessly, deliberately turn myself audibly non-existent. 

So, back to the famous song We Are the World, we see that undeniably, even for Michael Jackson and his gloriously distinguished voice it’s difficult to stand out in the crowd.  

It’s the same in writing. 

There’re some gifted writers who possess distinguished literary voices. And here, I have a (somewhat biased version of the) short list: 

1.     First and foremost––Frank McCourt, no doubt. *kowtows* 

2.     Elizabeth Gilbert. *bows*

3.     Anne Lamott. *salutes*

4.     Cheryl Strayed. *applauds*

5.     Mary Karr. *nods*

Sometimes I stumbled upon a piece of personal essay or a blog post and was surprised to detect a portion of the text following similar pattern, or mimicking similar style, of famous writers like Frank McCourt or Elizabeth Gilbert of Anne Lamott or Cheryl Strayed or Mary Karr. Which is fine. Writing is an art of imitation. We all learn from others to improve our own craft. But what I discovered in those essays and articles was inconsistency, meaning, discord in text. They were like various writers shouting out to the reader in different paragraphs, making it read like a literary patchwork. And I wondered what the writer’s original voice sounded like, if he hadn’t accidentally (?) drowned it in the chorus of New York Times bestsellers. Maybe his voice is strikingly captivating but we’ll never know. We won’t get to hear and appreciate and fall in love with it because it’s still buried in the chorus. 

So I bring the questions to you:

Is your writing voice standing tall and strong on its own feet? 

Is your writing voice singing solo, loud and proud, like a lion's ferocious roar? 

My hope is that you will allow your writing voice to be so distinctive and unique––as it is––that when a reader sees a sentence you’ve written, he immediately recognizes, “Aw, that’s my favorite author. I just know.”

Allison

Blog: Allison Hong-Merrill
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