How to Find – and Share – Your Voice on July 18

The Three Rivers Library invited me to speak on the topic "How to Find – and Share – Your Voice" from 6 to 7 p.m. July 18, at the Minooka branch of the Three Rivers Public Library District, 109 Wabena Ave.

Maybe this event is right for you - or someone you know.

We'll discuss the concept of writing "voice" and how to develop and share that voice. 

We'll share some examples of distinct "voice, tell a few "voice" stories, and provide resources for sharing that voice with the world.

BryonySeries books and WriteOn Joliet anthologies will be available for purchase.

The event is free but registration is required at trpld.org/event/8506148.

Have a great Tuesday!

Voice

With the demise of the current writer's block, I spent a blissful Saturday crafting scenes in Henry's third chapter of Before the Blood.

Then I spent a couple hours Sunday evening, reworking those scenes, adding layers and details, rewriting prose, etc. and etc. At the end of it, while creating a homework list for it, I realized I still wasn't happy with it.

I didn't know what to do.

The elements I wanted were there.

The characters were well-drawn.

The scenes moved the plot forward.

There was tension, mystery, a good mix of show/tell.

Then it hit me. The "voice" in the chapter was a nondescript, anonymous narrator, not Henry. This is the challenge, I think, of writing in third person perfect. The story persepctive is a global third person, but the voice relating it is the protagonist.

So why am I having such trouble? When I wrote Bryony, Henry was the easiest character to write! (He even threatened to take over the story and had to be put firmly back into place). 

I think, maybe, it's because I've distanced myself from this character when writing the other novels. Well, it's time to fix that.

I stopped making a homework list for the week. I knew what I had to do: read over every line and rewrite each one in Henry's voice.

And that's what I've been doing, starting yesterday and continuing now.

One Way to Write Dissimilar Voices Among Similar Characters

This past weekend, I returned to some skipped-over scenes in Before the Blood, those that  feature the Munsvonille Society for the Humanities, which meets Thursday evenings in the parsonage parolor.

In a previous chapter, I had already established the men that attend by name and expertise. But because the scenes are sporadic (although very essential to building the plot), I needed to differentiate between these men in such a way that the reader can envision them, especially since three of them are simultaneously introduced at the meetings.

While the scenes are by no means perfect, this is how I tackled it:

1) In my notes, I kept the expertise of each man narrow, but elaborated in a few lines - very distinct to each expertise - on how each expertise might influence the character's viewpoints on a range of topics.

2) In each scene, I reintroduce each character by his full name at the first reference.

3) I use beats, gestures, and actions to call attention to physical attributes, to remind the reader the physical apearance of each man, and to quicken the scene.

4) I carefully crafted the spoken reactions to the discussion topics by referring to the men's expertise and viewpoints already established in my notes. This way each man responds in ways that are true to him, while using his dialogue to build tension, reveal pertinent information, show personality and intent, and move the plot forward.

Thoughts?

My Progress on Writing "Voice"

Lately, I've been studying voice-making or the technique of making characters sound different through written words.

Yes, I've done this in previous books, but writing Before the Blood is more challenging because I'm introducing many characters simultaneously and many more after that, part of building an entire village from nearly nothing.

Here's some of what what I'm learning, learning in new ways, and simply having reinforced. Consider:

1) Consider dialects and word patterns

2) Likes/dislikes

3) Mannerisms

4) Interests

5) Confidence level/attitude

6) Word choices appropriate for age, sex, location, time period

7) Back story (the character's, not the plot's).

Although I'm slowly writing new scenes, I'm taking passes at previous ones and strengthening the voices of the characters in those scenes. By tightening those voices now, I believe it will make those characters come even more alive for me and make it easier to write new scenes.

Here's one scene for a Thanksiving potluck in the basement of Munsonville Congregational Church. How am I doing?

Soon Mrs. Parks was filling Bryony's tin plate with salt cod in gravy, boiled beans, browned potatoes, baked carrots, cornbread, and apple pudding.

            "Bertha," Mrs. Hasset said as they reached the end of the serving line. She was a plain, but stunning brunette, serious in all matters, as befitted a newspaperwoman, and the only woman Bryony had ever met that consistently wore high lace collars as well as eyeglasses. "Wherever is Reverend? Will he not join us this evening?"

            Mrs. Pike chose that moment to link her arm through Mrs. Hasset's and lead her away, saying, "Lula, have you seen the latest pattern in 'Godey's Lady's Book?'"

            Bryony's cheeks burned, but Mrs. Parks covered the disgrace with a firm grasp on Bryony's wrist as she pushed past the chairs to where Mr. Parks was entertaining Mr. Bass with another fish story. Reverend never celebrated holidays; he didn't believe in them.

            Mr. Parks' ruddy face gleamed with sweat, and his thick fingers gripped his tin. Mr. Bass sat across from him, red-faced and sipping his drink for a change. His lopsided grin resembled that on a Hoberdy lantern because one side of his "Man in the Moon" face was puffy and bruised.

            "So after I reeled him in, Teddy, that durned walleye..."

            "Orville, please watch Bryony."

            "Sure, Bertha, sure." He glanced at Bryony." Now clean yore plate or no dessert. So, Teddy, that fish likely measured..."

            Bryony untied the yarn, unrolled the strip of gray flannel, and tucked it into her collar.

            Mr. Bass took a longer sip. "Walleyes don't grow more'n a foot ana half."

            "Wouldn't believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." Mr. Parks pointed to one eye and then the other.

            "But three feet? C'mon, Orville!"

            "Teddy, he'd have sunk the boat if I hadn't thrown him back."

            At that moment, Mr. Munson appeared. He threw his arms around Mr. Parks' neck and kissed the top of his sweaty head. "Now gentlemen, don't be shy. There's plenty of barrels, and we don't plan on wasting 'em."

            Mr. Parks jumped to his feet.

            "Orville!" Mrs. Parks had returned with her own food.

            "On second thought, I think I'll grab some grub."

            "Why, that's just what Teddy was thinking, too," Mrs. Bass smiled sweetly at Mr. Munson  as she placed her plate close to Mr. Bass' right hand. Her cheeks were red like apples, even though she wasn't drinking applejack, and one of her bright blue eyes sported a shiner. "Teddy, please help me with my chair."

            Without looking at her, Mr. Bass pulled it away from the table and  took a swig. Mrs. Parks settled at Bryony's right.

            Mr. Munson, ever the exuberant host, moved down the rows. "Dick, don't be shy! Why there's plenty..."

            "Your wife is right," Mrs. Parks looked sternly at Mr. Bass. "The food is going fast."

            "Don't start, Bertha. I hear enough from her." Mr. Bass jerked his head in Mrs. Bass' direction and finished the contents of his mug.

            "I'm merely concerned for your health, Mr. Bass. I'm sure a great big enormous man like you would die of shame if he fainted in a room full of ladies."

            "And you need someone to shut yer fat mouth, sweetie."

            Mrs. Parks smothered a smile as she wedged the napkin into her collar and picked up her fork. Mrs. Bass also began to eat, but her gaze followed Mr. Munson as he roamed the room.

            "Gus! Why the empty mug?" Mr. Munson's voice rang out over the din. "Don't you see those barrels?