Lost . . .

. . . my voice, that is.

Unique voice is that elusive quality that all editors and agents say they want in a manuscript. However, when asked to pin it down, you get that frustrating “I know it when I read it” answer.

I have no pearls of wisdom on defining voice, but you do know it when you see it. It’s a stew of syntax and grammar, sentence structure, word usage, phrases, tone, and much more. It’s the secret blend of spices that each author sprinkles throughout his or her work.

Without looking at the book jacket, you only have to sample a few lines (take a few bites?) to tell Hemingway from Faulkner from Welty from O’Connor from Frazen from Morrison from King from Evanovich. Give me one taste from my critique buddies’ work, and I’ll know immediately which one is Mahala’s, Marilyn’s, Wanda’s, and Linda’s. Those women have voice!

After years of working on craft, I felt I was finally finding my own unique voice. More of a peep maybe, but definitely something that was mine alone. Then my life fell apart. Everything I thought I knew was wrong; everything I thought was true was false. My world turned upside down, then inside out. *I* turned upside down and inside out—vulnerable, scared, sick, my bloody insides exposed for all the world to see.

But that wasn’t the worst. I discovered that when you’ve turned inside out, it’s impossible to speak. My voice has been gone a long time. I thought it was gone forever. But as days turned to weeks and weeks to months, I’ve realized that my voice wasn’t really lost. Just hiding.

After 9 months (and I can’t help be aware of the significance of that number), my voice is emerging again. Even more surprising is that I think it’s changed. It’s too soon to tell exactly how, but it tastes different. Richer. Stronger. Less edited. More like me. Just me. Perhaps after months of hibernation, I’ve found my own secret ingredient that sets my voice stew apart from the rest.

Does that mean I’ll be writing horror or erotica (or recipe books???) instead of mysteries and YA? Too soon to tell, but probably not. I am hoping it means that whatever I write—or do—will shine with a voice that can only be mine.

Tracy

09-09-09

In honor of the date, I'd like to share 9 random thoughts about writing that have come to me recently.

1. All showing and no telling is as bad as all telling and no showing. The best writers have discovered how to find the right amount of each for the story they are telling. I am not one of them.

2. I used to be terrified before my critique groups met because I was afraid of what they were going to say about my work. I am now terrified before my critique groups meet because I'm afraid of what I am going to say about theirs. Am I being too critical? Could something I say destroy someone's writing dream. Yes, it's all about me.

3. That doesn't mean that my crit group doesn't have the power to make me cry. Or rant. Or both. But once I'm over the initial gut reaction, I love them for their honesty. I'd rather hear about the warts from them than not hear about the problems from agents and editors.

4. Mysteries may have a "formula" but that doesn’t make them easy to write.

5. Sometimes ideas do come to me while I'm playing spider solitaire, reading email, surfing the web. And a few of those are even pretty good. Sometimes the work has to percolate a bit before the problems can be ironed out.

6. I can't see the flaws in my own work. This is nothing new. It just amazes me that no matter how much I study, how hard I work to improve my craft, this one thing remains constant, steadfastly refusing to budge. Of course this is why I need to make sure I don't alienate the people in my crit groups! I need them!

7. No matter how much I think I've gotten a character figured out, he or she still has the power to surprise me. When does a character finally gel? After the first draft? The tenth? Or is it just me—can I only write chameleons?

8. I used to consider myself pretty tech savvy. Now, I feel like technology has left me in the dust. As Denis Leary puts it in the Hulu commercials, it all "bliggety blogs, facey-spaces, and tweety pages." I know an internet presence is necessary for a writer. But how much is enough?

9. I really like being part of a community of writers—I could discuss writing for hours and never get bored.


Right now I'm supposed to be packing for a visit to my daughter followed by a writing retreat in CT. I'm ecstatic about both! But I've wasted several hours because I can't decide what writing books I'll want (all the while knowing I probably won't have time to look at any of them!). So, no more procrastinating.

In the meantime, I'd love it if you shared 9 things about writing and the writing life!

Happy 9 Day!

Tracy

Hurry Up and Relax

The calendar hanging by my desk tells me to "hurry up and relax" as the snow white beach goer in the picture checks her watch once again. Why do we do that to ourselves? We pack the beach books, the cold drinks, the grapes and cheese or sandwiches or whatever we always take to the beach, towels, suntan lotion, etc. and head off to relax with the sounds of waves lapping or breaking depending on where you live, and then so many of us don't allow ourselves to settle down and rest. We should leave the cell phone in the car or better yet take it with us in case of an emergency. Put it in a plastic bag to keep out the sand but turn it off! We need to give ourselves a chance. By the way, don't forget the chocolate - yes, that's right - chocolate. Nothing better than a cold Milky Way at the beach to regenerate your energy. {I'm shameless.} It will help you to meditate for at least as long as the mini-bite lasts.

I had the privilege of living on the island of Kaua`i in Hawai`i for 12 years before I moved to Mobile, and tourists {I was a kama`aina (local) you see} never failed to amaze me when I planted myself on the beach for Saturday afternoons. Rental cars would come speeding up, two or more lily-white tourists would pour out, make a mad dash for the water, tossing flip-flops {or slippers as they are known in Hawai`i} on the beach with their towels, and fight the waves, which on a normal day are three-four feet, to get wet, splash each other a few times, then grab their towels, hurry to their car, and dash off to enjoy the next Hawai`ian attraction. Obviously they had missed the whole Hawai`ian experience. They had cheated themselves of the sights and sounds of those mystical Hawai`ian waters full of magnificent fish, whales, turtles. They had missed the sound of the lulling waters crashing against the sand. They had missed the overwhelmingly gorgeous reds and yellows of the sunrises and sunsets, the whales and dolphins and monk seals. I wanted to run to their cars and tell them to slow down, forget seeing every little or big thing on every island, savor the moment, inhale deeply and absorb the true experience, but they would have probably called 911 to lock up the crazy lady.

The whole point of this story, while it looks obvious, probably isn't. To experience the writing life at its best, we have to sit a while, dream a while, drift and actually think a while - pick your spot, the beach, the backyard, the library - stare off in the distance, listen to the sounds, smell the sea, the flowers, the leather. I personally love that wonderful inner peace when I'm lying at the warm beach or reclining in the backyard, the stillness as my mind drifts, children's voices in the distance, birds chatting, the smell of fresh cut grass or the salty sea. Some of my best insights come in those times - that character analysis I've been trying to capture, that plot point I've been struggling to find. The answers often bubble from an inner spring of creativity and always surprise me with their simplicity.

It helps to remember that sometimes life is jaded by the glare of the yellow brick road. Mahala