Voice Lessons

What would you do if you had a week alone, to do whatever you wanted? Me? I promptly grabbed my computer and headed for the coffee shop because writing and drinking coffee are two of my favorite things and doing them together is absolute heaven.

I have pages and pages and pages of random stuff that I’ve written and logged away for later. And by later, I mean probably never but it was better than awful so it didn’t get deleted. Sometimes I come back to a piece and think “Hey, that’s not half bad. You should work on that.” And then I immediately move on to a blank document and proceed to stare at the blinking curser for an hour.

When I’m really desperate (when am I not?) I’ll resort to Googling things like “how to be a writer” or “how to stop staring at the damn blinking curser”. I’ll spend the next few hours reading over all the same articles I’ve read a thousand times before.

Find your voice, they say. Every writer needs a clear, consistent, recognizable voice. Well my voice, apparently, is schizophrenic. My voice sounds like my mood, which has an impressively wide range and can be, admittedly, hard to follow.

Maybe I should spend this week in search of my voice. Although, at 34 years old, one would assume I know what my own voice sounds like. What does that even mean? I just listened to myself say the word “avocado” out loud, just to see what my voice actually sounds like. Then I remembered the first time I heard my voice on someone else’s answering machine and I was floored. That’s what I sound like? It was awful. Almost as awful as me using the term “answering machine” and completely dating myself.

At any rate, I’m working on the whole voice thing. I’m also working on not using phrases like “at any rate” in my writing because I’ve been told I shouldn’t do that. Wait, whose voice am I looking for? Ugh. My inner people pleaser is so stubborn some times.

There are a few things I really need to get to this week, like paying bills and doing my taxes and taking the trash out. But if I died tomorrow, I don’t think anyone would notice that I hadn’t done those things.

That’s always a twisted perspective right? Because the odds are that I won’t die tomorrow and then I actually will care that I didn’t do those things. I’ll actually be totally annoyed that I didn’t do those things. So, here we are. All alive and taking out the trash.

In short, live like you have the week to do whatever you want. And then, do whatever the hell you want, but don’t forget to take the trash out.

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