How to write in an other-worldly voice

The robot bares his soul on paper. Photo by Mirko Schaefer.

Last week we talked about how to craft an authentic voice by listening to the voices around you and in media. But what if your character is a type of person you can’t find in any of those places? What if they’re from the future, of which we know little, or from the ancient past, before there was a written language to record how they spoke? What if they are not even human—an alien, an angel, a robot dinosaur?

What if you want a voice just as unique as the character? A voice that will blow your readers’ minds?

Here are some steps to help you create one.

NOTE: this is a list of ideas, not a checklist. All will not work for your character, and there are probably additional methods you will need. This is simply a starting point. Choose wisely, but don’t be afraid to experiment!

 

First – a few questions to get you in the mindset:

Is the narrator intimately familiar with the modern human world? Would he be able to use and understand our weird human idioms and expressions?

Imagine a day in the life of this character. What does he spend most of his time doing? How does this effect what he thinks and talks about?

If this character doesn’t speak English, whatever you write is a translation. Ask yourself what his native language is like, compared to English. Is it as descriptive? Is it more rigid? Is it simpler, or more complicated? Are there some concepts in his language that can’t be translated to English at all?

Are there human or earthly concepts he cannot understand? Does he understand gender? Light and dark? The passage of time? Physical space?

Will this story be like describing color to a man born blind, and if so, who is the blind man—the character, or the reader?

 

Now, some fun things to try:

  • Remove all idioms and clichés – or get them intentionally wrong
  • Remove any pop culture references
  • Make up pop culture references
  • Occasionally try, then fail, to describe something, then explain that human words are inadequate
  • Replace common words with words you make up, or words from an obscure human language: especially replace words that are measurements, such as in time (minutes, hours, years), distances (feet, meters) as well as days of the week, etc.
  • Change the spelling of words – think of Olde English, or 1337 (leet)
  • Remove common words like articles (a, an, the), like in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
  • Cut words down to their roots, eliminating ings and eds and the like
  • Eliminate punctuation, using only line- and paragraph-breaks to differentiate between phrases and sentences
  • Use all the senses except sight in your descriptions
  • Describe from a sixth sense, like telepathy – bonus points if you can make up a sense nobody has thought of before
  • Don’t use adjectives
  • Don’t use pronouns
  • Write normally, then remove every fifth word and see what happens
  • Describe events at a molecular level
  • Describe events as if watching from miles away

 

What wacky voice ideas do you have? Spill them in the comments!

 

Other posts to help you prepare for Voice Week:

When I announced the first Voice Week

How to find your voice – explained in 5 different voices

5 fantastic examples of voice

How last year’s Voice Week went

How to craft an authentic voice through research

How to write like someone you’re not – and still sound authentic

This might be a little too obvious. [Photo by Emil]

 As a copywriter, I might be selling waterproof work boots to truckers one day, and giving makeup tips to fashionistas another. Maybe both in the same day. But if I’m not familiar with my audience, I have to get familiar before I write anything. You may have the same problem.

Say you’re writing about a character who is wildly unlike yourself. Maybe they’re an extreme version of some part of yourself (as all characters tend to be), but their background and lifestyle demands a manner of speaking completely different from anything you know. How do you master a voice that’s not your own?

Start by writing down everything you know about the character whose voice you need to create. Personality traits, occupation, hobbies. Then, prepare to research. You must immerse yourself in the voice you seek to emulate, much like living in a different country to learn the language. Here’s how:

 

Online communities

My number one resource for getting into the heads of my audience is the Internet. You can find a blog or forum for just about any group of people – I have stumbled across communities for everything from anorexics to Satanists, to Jews who love bacon (those all purely by accident). Look up social websites centered around your narrator’s profession, hobbies, even medical or psychological conditions. Do this by Googling your subject with words like blog, forum, community, online support group, tips, terminology, handbook, dictionary (i.e. “spoon-collector’s forum” etc.). Take it a step further by asking yourself what products your character would buy, then find the Facebook page of a company that sells said product, and read the fan comments. Google the definitions of terms you don’t know. Bookmark the sites you find and reference them frequently.

Books

Probably the most obvious way to familiarize yourself with a voice is to find a book narrated by a character who is like yours, or at least one that has a lot of dialogue by a character like yours. Type out a few pages of the narrative/dialogue to help give your fingers and your brain a feel for the flow of the language. Reach outside fiction, too – read the memoir of a real person who is similar to your character. If you’re writing period fiction, read something that was actually written during the time period in question.

 

Movies & TV

Can’t think of a book that has your character type? Try thinking of a movie or TV show that does. Find some quotes from that character on IMDB – and again, type them out to get a feel for the voice.

 

People watching / eavesdropping

Find a public place where you’re likely to find the type of people you’re writing about. If you’re writing about a college student, hang out in a coffee shop by the closest college campus. If you’re writing about a factory worker, eat lunch at a diner close to a factory, or check out a nearby bar at happy hour. If you’re writing about children, offer to baby-sit your sister’s kids, or hang out at the playground of your local park (just bring a friend with you so people don’t think you’re a creeper). Shop at stores your character is likely to shop at. Visit a church or synagogue they might frequent. Listen to snippets of conversation around you, and surreptitiously write them in a notebook.

 

Where do you find the voices of your characters? Tell me in the comments!

The Diamond-Buyer’s Guide to Writing a Literary Gem

Photo by Steve de Polo

When determining the value of a diamond, gemologists look at four factors, collectively known as the Four Cs. By a convenient coincidence, all four coincide with important points of writing. So here are a few pointers on writing a novel that shines.

Carat – the size or weight of the diamond.

Do your plot and characters have enough weight to carry the story? Does enough happen to your hero, not just physically, but emotionally, that the story is worth writing and worth reading? If so, proceed. If not, it isn’t worth the cost. Dig deeper.

 

Clarity – how many inclusions (little black dots) are in the diamond.

Unclear wording slows down your reader – and thus the story, and keeps the light from shining through. Bummer. Look back at 47 ways to find and eliminate inclusions in your writing.

 

Cut – If a diamond is cut too long, the light will bounce sideways off the lower facets. Too short, and the light just falls through. But just right, a la Goldilocks, and the light reflects off the lower facets directly into the eyes for optimum sparkle.

Just so with editing. “They” say to cut anything that is not necessary to the plot. But a novel cannot live on plot alone. Character is just as important. Check every scene to ensure it contains two or more of the following elements:

  • Establishing character
  • Advancing plot
  • Foreshadowing events
  • Braiding in subplots

If you find a scene that doesn’t have two or more elements—and you can’t manage to work a second element in—cut it. If there was anything important in that scene, extract it and work it into another existing scene.

                       

Color – the purer white it is, the more iridescent the shine.

In writing, that pure whiteness is honesty. Yes, you are writing about made-up people in made-up situations, but you still must be emotionally honest. About how you see the world. About what keeps you up at night. What you fear. What you long for. What hurts most. And why you keep on fighting. When you’re writing that first draft, don’t try to be eloquent. Don’t try to impress your readers. Don’t preach at them. Just climb into the head of the character who’s telling the story. Then reach into your gut and vomit your feelings on the paper. The worst and the best.

That’s when the precious gem emerges; when you’re not trying to create a feeling, but to express one. As Ray Bradbury says, “when a man talks from his heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.”

 —

4 steps to stop writing fan fics and start writing original stories

Img by Jenn Durfey

Stuck writing stories about Elizabeth Bennett, Harry Potter, Edward Cullen, or (heaven forbid) all three? Maybe you’re longing to create something of your own, but you don’t know where to start (or maybe you’re desperate to stop this madness before Mr. Darcy elopes with Bella Swan). Well. I have good news.

Fan fiction is a great place to start. In a way, I started with fan fiction (X-Men was my guilty pleasure in junior high – so many possibilities!). The pre-existing world, concept, and characters give you the freedom to experiment with plotlines and storytelling without having to fill in every single detail yourself. It’s a good outlet. Good practice. Kind of like training wheels.

But if you’re reading this, it’s time to take off the training wheels. Here are a few pointers to help ease your transition.

Start with one original character.

Start small. Invent one character of your own to fit into the existing fan fic landscape. Give him or her a name, a background, special talents, likes, dislikes. Have a good time experimenting with how a new personality will fit into the world you know so well, beside the characters you have loved so long. This isn’t so different from taking an existing minor character and giving them a more prominent part.

Move that character into an original setting.

Another baby step. Take your character and put them somewhere new. They take a trip, move across the country, go to college, get kidnapped. It can still be within the fan fic concept world, but in a scene you have to create from scratch, with supporting characters you must give birth to. Don’t worry; this will be easier than you think. It doesn’t have to be a finished story, or even very good. The important thing at this point is that it’s 90% yours. You’re almost there!

Consume other fiction.

Meanwhile, in your recreational reading, take a break from the world of your fan fics. If you write Star Wars stories, get out of the extended universe! Visit the worlds of Anne McCaffrey, Orson Scott Card, Shannon Hale. Step out of your genre and read a little Marcus Zusak or John Green. Fill up your head with new material—it’s fuel for original ideas.

Dare to be different.

Here’s the part where your authorial benefactor lets go of the bicycle seat and sends you flying down the hill. Write like the wind! In the beginning, check yourself frequently to make sure you’re not lapsing into the other writer’s world again—examine the relationships you create and the order of events. It’s normal to see some similarities (nothing is new under the sun): just make sure you’re not doing what Paolini did with Eragon.

A final note:

It may be a long time (a lot of digging deep into parts of you that hurt) before you come up with something truly unique and beautiful. Remember; if it’s easy, you’re doing it wrong. But you’re out of your rut now, and on your own. So let the adventure begin.