“No, it’s not a very good story—its author was too busy listening to other voices to listen as closely as he should have to the one coming from inside.”
~Stephen King
On Monday I was talking about how it’s okay to be weird. What I really mean is that it’s okay to be you.
We are all weird. We’re writers, aren’t we? And we should be able to rejoice in being weird. One of my friends from high school has a daughter who is in second grade now and last week her daughter came home and told her that her best friend had dumped her for being “too weird.”
Her mom is cool. Her mom knows that no matter how hard it gets that her baby girl needs to hold onto that magic part of her that her friend is afraid of, that she has to be herself, her beautiful, weird self.
It’s heartbreaking that we have a culture that can celebrate weird (Lady Gaga) and at the same time bash it (Glenn Beck). It’s also somewhat heartbreaking that we have a culture where you have to sleep in a giant egg or wear meat dresses to proclaim your weirdness. No offense to Lady Gaga but we are all secretly weird. Some of us just aren’t so secret about it.
Grover (seen here with a knife threatening me to hurry and get this blog post done) has never been afraid of embracing his weird.
In writing this is a very good thing because our weirdness, our quirks, makes sentences structures that vary. It creates characters who have lightening bolts on their heads or are obsessed with math or are scrappy wanna-be grown-ups or who are really into Amnesty International. And the kicker is: That’s good for kids. Every time we write a character who is a bit funky, who cares about more than the opposite sex, who defies stereotypes (writing stereotypes or real stereotypes) we inspire kids. We let them know that it’s okay to be an individual with quirks and passions and imperfections. How cool is that?
What is also tremendously cool is that our own writer weirdness allows us to have our own original voice. There are all sorts of tips on the web about how to find ‘your original voice.’ People will tell you to read, practice writing by copying other authors’ voices, etc. That’s about craft. It’s important to practice your craft.
Writing is like painting. Writing is like playing the guitar. Writing is like singing. The more you do it, the better you get.
The only way, though, to find your own original voice is to just let go. Allow yourself to write like you think. Allow the words to come out. Allow your weird, your amazingly weird, cool, smart, goofy, passionate, calm, didactic, silly self come out on that page. Get rid of your filters. You’ll be amazed by what happens.
Oh. Forget it. Let me tell you what happens: Voice happens. Magic happens. YOU, you my writer friend, are that magic.
-Carrie Jones
{ 2 comments }
I followed a Twitter RT and found you. What a great blog and wonderful post. I love this advice and try to follow it myself whenever possible. Sometimes I forget, though, and its good to be reminded. I’ll let my own daughter be my guide, because you’re right, it is important to preserve that kookiness in children and in our more restrained adult-selves. Thanks.
I love that you wrote this! Thank you. I have an 11 year old who is always being called ‘weird’ and the truth is, she is a born author, I know it. She makes entire words up and has her whole life. She doesn’t want to let go of her toys ever. But the word ‘weird’ now makes her cry because of the kids at school who feel they need to act 21 and not 12. She’s the oldest in her class and some of the kids say she acts the youngest. She told me that she won’t let what others say stop her though and even when she’s 25 she’ll still run around the park pretending to be a dragon… and I think she will. :-)
Sarah Winters
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