Voices, Voices Everywhere
When we think about "voice" in fiction, we probably think about one of two things: 1) a story's overall tone or style, or 2) a character's manner of speaking -- what words she uses, what slang, their expressive style.
Within a story, you can readily observe its overall tone. Is it harsh, comedic, introspective, remorseful, hopeful? You may even use alternating tones, tied to character, for contrast.
Similarly, when a character speaks, if you've developed him fully, he speaks consistently with a specific style, and deviations make sense when they are driven by other emotions or events that have relevance for him.
But there's a third thing to think about, something trickier -- whether this character's "voice" also carries over into narrative that is told from his point of view (either directly in first person or indirectly in third person), or in other exposition. Should it?
First person novels or stories are effective illustrators of voice because it's very difficult to forget the protagonist who has control of the page. Voice is an easier concept to grasp in first person because one character is telling her own story, always speaking, always observing. A Southern grandmother will have a different way of speaking and narrating than a 25-year-old advertising executive or a 13-year-old singing sensation. It will naturally be colored with descriptions and observations that blossom from her own experience and perspective, her style and manner of thinking and speaking.
On the other hand, when you write in third person, it's easier for you -- the writer -- to take over by inserting your own vocabulary, style of speaking, ways of describing things, and especially memories, sensibilities, or introspection that might have meaning to you, but may not fit comfortably into your character's life. Maybe we even sometimes feel that expository passages are the writer's own "turf" -- no matter what the character is doing.
A great exercise is to take a scene with dialogue or a descriptive passage that you've written in third person, and rewrite it in first. You will see a greater immediacy, a greater closeness with the character, and a greater use of memory recall, because doing this forces you to see the world through your character's eyes instead of the comparatively weaker lens of your own more superficial vision -- superficial because you're not the one who's actually in the story. In third person drafts, it's not always as easy to focus on what's important to the character, or what the character would be most likely to observe and remember.There's less immediacy, at least at first.
Think of your own ways of doing things, your own emotions, as a filter through which your characters must pass to be fully formed and resonate on the page. How would they react? What equivalent experiences might your characters have had? Which of their experiences would result in those feelings you most want to express? Not your experiences. Theirs. Give them their own lives, past and present.
A good writer friend once called me out on one of my descriptions. I was trying to describe a man's overly large hands. In the draft, I used the word "potholders." My friend looked up in disgust and basically said I wrote like a girl. I might have described a man's hands, his working hands, as "catcher's mitts" or "coal shovels" or even "flapjacks."
See the difference? My character probably never picked up a potholder in his life. "Shovel" is a word he would actually use to describe his own hands and eclipse the writer, just as he should.
Let's take an example from dialogue, convert it a couple of different ways, and see if we can preserve the character's voice.
If you've written anything at all, you know the common tendency to fall back on dialogue tags or descriptions of sometimes inane or clumsy or clownish physical actions to convey mood or emotion. Remember to let your dialogue do the heavy lifting.
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: "He's a jerk," she said impatiently, her cheeks flushed red in anger.
--or--
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: "He's a jerk, a total monkey, just like Daddy always told me. Oh, he remembered, all right. He just doesn't have time to tramp all over town looking for flowers. Doesn't have time to tramp all over town to pick out a card or get a nice piece of cake down at Berman's. I'll show him 'doesn't have time' when he comes back here tomorrow all nice and palsy-walsy and whispering what he wants from me. You just wait and see what I do."
The dialogue in the second example conveys the character's frustration and disappointment much better than "cheeks flushed red in anger." It is her voice; she is speaking, so she says things that are meaningful to her -- in this case, she also mimics things that were said to her. But the fun part is that it speaks to a few other things as well -- "piece of cake" instead of a whole cake; either they're not living together or she's kicked him out for the night or he works the night shift; the character's immaturity; her father may no longer be living; the poor health of the relationship she's in; the desire for what a good bakery can offer might signal she's not too good in the kitchen, or that she likes Berman's icing better than her own.
Collectively, these clues give your character life and give your reader a greater sense of anticipation, of wanting to know who this character is, what happens next in her life and what form her revenge will take. Will she shoot him? Will she pick herself a bouquet of flowers and pretend they're from a rival? Will she dump a bucket of ice water on his head? Will she buy a cake for herself? In turn, what other reactions might be set off?
We tend to write "she said impatiently, her cheeks flushed red in anger'" because it's easy, and it conveys a set of known symptoms of emotion that readers recognize and readily understand. Most of us have experienced impatience and felt a slow burn of embarrassment or humiliation on our faces. These things are familiar, so we use familiar cliches to communicate them. But a writer's tendency to do this robs characters of the opportunity to express their emotions in terms that are meaningful to them within the expanses of their own lives. Just as important, this laziness, instead of advancing your story toward its climax, is likely to stall it because it doesn't tell us anything interesting.
Not all dialogue will be as long or as telling in a single passage, but whatever dialogue there is should be emotive. When a character reacts by saying what she's thinking, or by changing the subject, or by spinning a quarter on the countertop, or by defending the betrayer, or by folding napkins at an accelerated pace -- all speak volumes about who the character is. This is what keeps your reader engaged. It's what keeps your characters alive.
In exposition or narrative from a particular character's point of view, in addition to descriptive words, consider memory, observation, and internal thoughts. What kinds of things might your character remember, or think about, or regret? What makes them happy?
Now that we've looked at an example of more emotion-rich dialogue, let's convert it to third person in a couple of different ways using internal (unspoken) dialogue:
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: Genna folded a dishtowel in half. Bill was a jerk, a total monkey, just like her Daddy always said. He remembered, all right. He just didn't have time to tramp all over town looking for flowers. Didn't have time to tramp all over town to pick out a card or get a nice piece of cake down at Berman's. He'd learn about 'didn't have time' when he came back tomorrow all nice and palsy-walsy and whispering what he wanted. Just wait and see if he didn't.
Genna picked another towel from the basket and snapped the wrinkles from it. "He's had a lot on his mind."
--or another choice and a different "voice"--
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Genna looked up from the laundry and gazed at the chipped blue vase on the counter. Her daddy would have remembered flowers for her birthday. He'd always sneak them into the house, or get Johnny to do it when Johnny was still home. They were always in surprise places too, where they knew she wouldn't see them right away, like that one year he put them in the washing machine, or that other time he put them in the treehouse. He bought different kinds, never even the same color, one year to the other. He must have put it all down somewhere so he wouldn't forget and buy the same kind twice. When she turned sixteen, he bought tea roses. White tea roses in that blue vase. They had shiny drops of water on them, and the buds and leaves looked so tiny and perfect. Like they'd just been born.
Genna folded a dishtowel in half, then in quarters. "I heard they got a boatload of ice cream for that new freezer down at the store."
What do we learn about Genna from these two alternate passages? What kinds of things might we speculate about? What do we learn when she doesn't answer her friend's question? Does she miss her dad? Does she miss Johnny? Does she regret being involved with someone who doesn't remember her birthday in the same way as her father did?
One thing we do learn -- characters who are angry can be a lot more interesting than characters who aren't!
A final tip that will help make your expository voice and internal observations consistent with who your character is is to have a clear visualization of your character and their mannerisms. Bad boy or suit? Steel-reinforced boots or wing tips? Faded blue jeans, black jeans, or khakis? Pink hair or straight brown hair? Punker or biker chick? Pumps or flip-flops? Midriff-baring top or sweatshirt? Toe tapper or finger drummer? Matches or lighter?
Now. Would they observe someone vomiting or hurling?
The voices of your stories -- whether spoken words, internal ramblings, memories, thoughts, observations, narrative, exposition, impressions, what your characters notice -- must always connect closely to your characters and the ways they live their lives. Express these voices -- observe and remember them -- in ways the character might.
Whatever voice you choose, don't write things just to have them there or to fill space, like "wringing her hands" or "cupping his chin" or "leaning back on her elbows." Dig deeper. You can even borrow my shovel! Everything should have a meaning to your characters or to the story, or it should reveal or foreshadow things of importance to your characters, or it shouldn't be there.
Within a story, you can readily observe its overall tone. Is it harsh, comedic, introspective, remorseful, hopeful? You may even use alternating tones, tied to character, for contrast.
Similarly, when a character speaks, if you've developed him fully, he speaks consistently with a specific style, and deviations make sense when they are driven by other emotions or events that have relevance for him.
But there's a third thing to think about, something trickier -- whether this character's "voice" also carries over into narrative that is told from his point of view (either directly in first person or indirectly in third person), or in other exposition. Should it?
First person novels or stories are effective illustrators of voice because it's very difficult to forget the protagonist who has control of the page. Voice is an easier concept to grasp in first person because one character is telling her own story, always speaking, always observing. A Southern grandmother will have a different way of speaking and narrating than a 25-year-old advertising executive or a 13-year-old singing sensation. It will naturally be colored with descriptions and observations that blossom from her own experience and perspective, her style and manner of thinking and speaking.
On the other hand, when you write in third person, it's easier for you -- the writer -- to take over by inserting your own vocabulary, style of speaking, ways of describing things, and especially memories, sensibilities, or introspection that might have meaning to you, but may not fit comfortably into your character's life. Maybe we even sometimes feel that expository passages are the writer's own "turf" -- no matter what the character is doing.
A great exercise is to take a scene with dialogue or a descriptive passage that you've written in third person, and rewrite it in first. You will see a greater immediacy, a greater closeness with the character, and a greater use of memory recall, because doing this forces you to see the world through your character's eyes instead of the comparatively weaker lens of your own more superficial vision -- superficial because you're not the one who's actually in the story. In third person drafts, it's not always as easy to focus on what's important to the character, or what the character would be most likely to observe and remember.There's less immediacy, at least at first.
Think of your own ways of doing things, your own emotions, as a filter through which your characters must pass to be fully formed and resonate on the page. How would they react? What equivalent experiences might your characters have had? Which of their experiences would result in those feelings you most want to express? Not your experiences. Theirs. Give them their own lives, past and present.
A good writer friend once called me out on one of my descriptions. I was trying to describe a man's overly large hands. In the draft, I used the word "potholders." My friend looked up in disgust and basically said I wrote like a girl. I might have described a man's hands, his working hands, as "catcher's mitts" or "coal shovels" or even "flapjacks."
See the difference? My character probably never picked up a potholder in his life. "Shovel" is a word he would actually use to describe his own hands and eclipse the writer, just as he should.
Let's take an example from dialogue, convert it a couple of different ways, and see if we can preserve the character's voice.
If you've written anything at all, you know the common tendency to fall back on dialogue tags or descriptions of sometimes inane or clumsy or clownish physical actions to convey mood or emotion. Remember to let your dialogue do the heavy lifting.
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: "He's a jerk," she said impatiently, her cheeks flushed red in anger.
--or--
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: "He's a jerk, a total monkey, just like Daddy always told me. Oh, he remembered, all right. He just doesn't have time to tramp all over town looking for flowers. Doesn't have time to tramp all over town to pick out a card or get a nice piece of cake down at Berman's. I'll show him 'doesn't have time' when he comes back here tomorrow all nice and palsy-walsy and whispering what he wants from me. You just wait and see what I do."
The dialogue in the second example conveys the character's frustration and disappointment much better than "cheeks flushed red in anger." It is her voice; she is speaking, so she says things that are meaningful to her -- in this case, she also mimics things that were said to her. But the fun part is that it speaks to a few other things as well -- "piece of cake" instead of a whole cake; either they're not living together or she's kicked him out for the night or he works the night shift; the character's immaturity; her father may no longer be living; the poor health of the relationship she's in; the desire for what a good bakery can offer might signal she's not too good in the kitchen, or that she likes Berman's icing better than her own.
Collectively, these clues give your character life and give your reader a greater sense of anticipation, of wanting to know who this character is, what happens next in her life and what form her revenge will take. Will she shoot him? Will she pick herself a bouquet of flowers and pretend they're from a rival? Will she dump a bucket of ice water on his head? Will she buy a cake for herself? In turn, what other reactions might be set off?
We tend to write "she said impatiently, her cheeks flushed red in anger'" because it's easy, and it conveys a set of known symptoms of emotion that readers recognize and readily understand. Most of us have experienced impatience and felt a slow burn of embarrassment or humiliation on our faces. These things are familiar, so we use familiar cliches to communicate them. But a writer's tendency to do this robs characters of the opportunity to express their emotions in terms that are meaningful to them within the expanses of their own lives. Just as important, this laziness, instead of advancing your story toward its climax, is likely to stall it because it doesn't tell us anything interesting.
Not all dialogue will be as long or as telling in a single passage, but whatever dialogue there is should be emotive. When a character reacts by saying what she's thinking, or by changing the subject, or by spinning a quarter on the countertop, or by defending the betrayer, or by folding napkins at an accelerated pace -- all speak volumes about who the character is. This is what keeps your reader engaged. It's what keeps your characters alive.
In exposition or narrative from a particular character's point of view, in addition to descriptive words, consider memory, observation, and internal thoughts. What kinds of things might your character remember, or think about, or regret? What makes them happy?
Now that we've looked at an example of more emotion-rich dialogue, let's convert it to third person in a couple of different ways using internal (unspoken) dialogue:
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Character B: Genna folded a dishtowel in half. Bill was a jerk, a total monkey, just like her Daddy always said. He remembered, all right. He just didn't have time to tramp all over town looking for flowers. Didn't have time to tramp all over town to pick out a card or get a nice piece of cake down at Berman's. He'd learn about 'didn't have time' when he came back tomorrow all nice and palsy-walsy and whispering what he wanted. Just wait and see if he didn't.
Genna picked another towel from the basket and snapped the wrinkles from it. "He's had a lot on his mind."
--or another choice and a different "voice"--
Character A: "Didn't he even get you flowers for your birthday?"
Genna looked up from the laundry and gazed at the chipped blue vase on the counter. Her daddy would have remembered flowers for her birthday. He'd always sneak them into the house, or get Johnny to do it when Johnny was still home. They were always in surprise places too, where they knew she wouldn't see them right away, like that one year he put them in the washing machine, or that other time he put them in the treehouse. He bought different kinds, never even the same color, one year to the other. He must have put it all down somewhere so he wouldn't forget and buy the same kind twice. When she turned sixteen, he bought tea roses. White tea roses in that blue vase. They had shiny drops of water on them, and the buds and leaves looked so tiny and perfect. Like they'd just been born.
Genna folded a dishtowel in half, then in quarters. "I heard they got a boatload of ice cream for that new freezer down at the store."
What do we learn about Genna from these two alternate passages? What kinds of things might we speculate about? What do we learn when she doesn't answer her friend's question? Does she miss her dad? Does she miss Johnny? Does she regret being involved with someone who doesn't remember her birthday in the same way as her father did?
One thing we do learn -- characters who are angry can be a lot more interesting than characters who aren't!
A final tip that will help make your expository voice and internal observations consistent with who your character is is to have a clear visualization of your character and their mannerisms. Bad boy or suit? Steel-reinforced boots or wing tips? Faded blue jeans, black jeans, or khakis? Pink hair or straight brown hair? Punker or biker chick? Pumps or flip-flops? Midriff-baring top or sweatshirt? Toe tapper or finger drummer? Matches or lighter?
Now. Would they observe someone vomiting or hurling?
The voices of your stories -- whether spoken words, internal ramblings, memories, thoughts, observations, narrative, exposition, impressions, what your characters notice -- must always connect closely to your characters and the ways they live their lives. Express these voices -- observe and remember them -- in ways the character might.
Whatever voice you choose, don't write things just to have them there or to fill space, like "wringing her hands" or "cupping his chin" or "leaning back on her elbows." Dig deeper. You can even borrow my shovel! Everything should have a meaning to your characters or to the story, or it should reveal or foreshadow things of importance to your characters, or it shouldn't be there.

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