The chatter about “voice”

There’s a lot of chatter about “voice” in fiction, which I take to mean the presentation of the narrative, its mixture of tone, character, syntax, and vocabulary. Complex and important, writers can and do spend years perfecting voice though some come to it quickly and naturally. It can be very distinctive, as per Hemingway and Dickens. Perhaps the most influential voice in the English language was the sixteenth century King James translation of the Bible. And we sometimes forget that Shakespeare was a great inventor of words, such as gloomy, critic, bump—and many more. I wonder how Elizabethan audiences responded to such an inventive vocabulary.

Books with distinct voice

I’ve never developed a specific voice for my work. I want the voice of my fiction to be part of the story. The voice of Crispin: The Cross of Lead is utterly different than the voice of City of Orphans or Poppy. In Sophia’s War I worked hard to create an eighteenth century voice, using lots of words used then, but no longer.

When I tell a story, I want the reader to hear, each time, a different voice. And not mine.

Done! Now for the rewriting.

Crispin: The Cross of LeadOver the Memorial Day weekend, I finished the rough draft of my new book. (No title yet.) What does that mean? First, relief. It has been a two-year effort. Nonetheless, I am far from finished. Having a complete book means I can now rewrite with the whole story in my head. As I have said elsewhere, I cannot write a good first page until I write a good last page. Now I must bring the whole book together, hopefully, in some seamless, logical, compelling fashion. During this process I make countless changes, some big. For those who know my Newbery book, Crispin: The Cross of Lead, they may be surprised that the cross of lead, which is so key to the book, was not added until after the first draft was written.  Moreover, I think there were at least ten different opening chapters to that book.  The fact is, this period of rewriting, is my favourite part of the process. A lot of the tension of creating is gone. In its place comes the joy of making the book deeper, richer, a better experience for the reader—and, dare I say—for this writer, too.

City of Orphans in Spanish

Ciudad de HuérfanosIn the mail today came the Spanish edition of City of Orphans, with the translated title, Ciudad de Huérfanos. [Editorial Bambú--Spain] My knowledge of languages other than English is woefully ( sadly) deficient. I cannot therefore, speak to the translation, but it is a handsome hardbound edition, truly stitched, complete with headband, a bound-in, green ribbon page marker (something I love) and an unusually fine illustration for the cover art. Many of my books have been translated (True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle is in some twenty languages.). The Korean Crispin: The Cross of Lead, which is fully illustrated, is very beautiful. These translated editions fascinate me, in part by the way they depict the story. They also allow me to wonder how young people in different cultures respond to my stories. Now and again, I get letters from these kids, and they are always delightful. Once, in Denmark, a girl told me how Bright Shadow was her favorite book. There is something very special about reaching across the globe in this way. Deeply rewarding.