A Study in Voice

 

 In my MFA classes, I am constantly asked about voice.  What is it, how to find it, how to make it stand out, and how to make it unique, and what is an "authentic" voice.

On one hand, a writer’s “voice” refers to the rhetorical blend of word choice, tone, point of view, and syntax that create phrases, sentences, and paragraphs to flow in a particular manner. This voice comes through in two main ways: through omniscient  narration or through the character’s point of view. For example, Tony Morrison and Nathaniel Hawthorne tell their stories through an omniscient third person narration. However, both authors have a unique voice, set by the tone, word choice, organization of paragraphs and chapters, and pacing that set each novel apart.

A writer’s voice often refers to the overall theme expressed within the pages of a novel, highlighting the book’s mood and worldview. For example, in discussing the books of Margaret Atwood, readers might note themes, character types and writing style that demonstrate a distinctive voice even as it transcends individual works.

On the other hand, a character’s voice is the unique tone a writer imbues upon different characters. It encompasses the language and syntax of the character, their personal worldview, and often comes wrapped in an accent that relates to the setting and status. For example, a novel’s main character might be affable and loquacious so much so that words spill from their mouth to the annoyance of the other characters.  Or, perhaps a novel’s main character suffers from PTSD and is full of youthful angst and quirky observations. Or perhaps a character is self-effacing. Or perhaps the character is a gentle giant, at once friendly and fierce-looking.

The challenge becomes when the writer’s voice becomes so intrusive that a character fades into the shadows. When the writer takes centerstage, the story is lost.

Two books I’ve enjoyed recently excel in reflecting both a writer’s voice and a character’s voice.  The challenge in writing historical fiction is, given the depiction of another time and place, the writer needs to keep the voice authentic yet accessible to the modern reader. Too much of an accent and the character is reduced to a stereotype. But too much of a modern sensibility and the story feels inauthentic.  And if the story takes place in ancient times, the challenge becomes all the more interesting.

I’ve really enjoyed Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom (2004). The story takes place during the nineth century, using first person POV. Uhtred of Bebbanburg, the son of a Saxon noble, recounts his kidnapping by Danish Vikings to find a home with a powerful warlord and ultimately embraces Viking traditions.  As a young man, he is torn between his Viking family and the growing conflict with King Alfred of Wessex. His primary motivation becomes reclaiming his ancestral land and his inheritance. Cornwell navigates the clashing of two cultures and worldviews through the perspective of one caught in the middle. The tension is palatable. Destiny is all.

 

Kerry Madden-Lunsford’s book, Werewolf Hamlet (2025), is another great study in first person POV.  Not really a historical fiction, the connection to history offers an interesting juxtaposition. No one has a more timeless, spirited voice than Shakespeare. Unless it’s a werewolf citing Hamlet.  

Ten-year-old Angus navigates a family in crisis. The setting of Los Angeles sets the stage for a clashing of two worlds: the gritty world of drugs against the glamorous world of the rich and famous.  Here, the world of make-believe, in which Iron Man breaks up dueling Spider-Mans, Princess Leia drinks a smoothie and Charlie Chaplin waddles along the street,  collides with reality. About to lose their home, the family struggles as Liam, the older brother, spirals out of control because of substance abuse and addiction. To cope with his anxiety, Angus speaks to Hollywood’s legendary icons, Charlie Chaplin, Harry Houdini and Buster Keaton. First person POV is further explored in chapters set apart, much like reading a script for a play, depicting conversations with Liam and revealing Angus' anger and fear for his brother.  He flings Shakespearean insults at his older brother: "Thou art a ragged wart!" 

For his fifth-grade project, Angus decides to write a play, Werewolf Hamlet, in which Hamlet turns into a werewolf whenever he becomes enraged. A deft blend of humor and poignancy, the book explores the devasting effects of addiction on a family and the resulting strained relationships but who are ultimately connected by love.

The book includes a letter from the author that offers insights into why she wrote the book. For another interesting interview on her writing process and why Kerry wrote this book, see this interview with Teaching Books: https://forum.teachingbooks.net/2025/02/guest-blogger-kerry-madden-lunsford/

For more information, check out Kerry's website: https://www.kerrymadden.com/

Also, if you’re interested in taking a deep dive into Voice and Viewpoint, check out this Webinar hosted by Lorin Oberweger and Free Expressions:  https://www.free-expressions.com/registration/p/october2-9-marriage-that-makes

 Thank you for reading!

-- Bobbi

 

Where Do You Find Your Stories?

 I'm TA #3 to weigh in on my most frequently asked question as an author. Even though I teach both adults and children, the question is the same from both groups. And that is...

"Where do get your ideas?"

99% of my stories come from my own family. As a writer, I couldn't be luckier to have the family I do. We're all storytellers, both sides of the family. Even my father-in-law loved to share tales about his life and family history. It's not that my relatives were famous or did anything historic. They just liked to tell stories about their childhoods and their own ancestors. I was that rare kid who loved to listen to them. Thanks to the Rodmans, Smiths and Downings, I have enough raw material to keep me going forever.

Once I've answered question #1, the second most asked question is "So do the people you write about recognize themselves in your stories?" The answer for every writer should be "no." There is a disclaimer in the front pages of every novel that says "This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental." There is a good reason for this. No one wants to get hauled into court for defamation of character, especially not if the complainants are your cousins or in-laws. The storytellers of my childhood are no longer alive, but their children and grandchildren are. 

My ideas, the story seeds, come from real life. They come from events that happened to real people in real cities. However, once I start writing, the characters are no longer my parents or aunts or uncles. They have different names, appearances and personality traits. Halfway through a first draft they become people who are very real, but a product of my own imagination. The geographic location stays real; location is as important as the characters and action. However, the neighborhoods and schools are composites. I draw maps for these fictional neighborhoods so I can keep the locations straight in my head.

I think I've done a pretty good job in turning real people into fictional people. When I began writing in elementary school, my mom typed my stories for magazine and contest submissions. Every time there was a mother in the story, she would ask "Is that mom supposed to be me? I'm not like that at all." In those early stories the mother was never even remotely based on Mom. If the character was the least bit unpleasant, Mom would take it very, very personally, never convinced I wasn't writing about her. But I wasn't. 

Fast forward thirty years. Yankee Girl is published. Although the parents in the book are relatively minor characters, they are, straight on, my parents. The narrator is Alice Ann Moxley, who is pretty much eleven-year-old me. My parents loved the book. I kept waiting for Mom to say something about the mother character. (My dad would never say anything, one way or the other.) 

Crickets. 

Almost two years later, Mom called me late at night. My parents never called after 8pm, not even if someone was dying. This had to be important. 

I only managed to get out a "hello" before Mom barged right on.

"Is the mom in Yankee Girl me?"

Uh oh. Busted. Gulp. "Yeah."

After a moment, Mom continued.

"I was re-reading it tonight, and I realized that you were writing about yourself and all your worries at that time...and I didn't know about any of it. And neither did the mother in the book. Was I that clueless?"

That led to a long discussion about how terribly stressed and worried our whole family was at that time, each of us keeping our fears to ourselves so as not to upset anyone else. It wasn't a matter of being clueless; it was everyone trying to be strong and pretending that whatever was happening in the wider world, our family was safe. (We really weren't.) 

Looking back, it's funny that the one time I wrote clearly recognizable characters (to me at least), those people didn't realize it until years later.

Surprise Soup was based on my husband's childhood as a bratty little brother. By the time the book came out his character was a bratty little bear. I had to tell him it was him. My Best Friend and First Grade Stinks were based on things that happened to my daughter. She completely disavows both books. She remembers things much differently. And so she should, because while something she said or did was the story seed, the events, characters and outcomes of the story are very different.

That's how it should be. After all, it's fiction.

Posted by Mary Ann Rodman