Bit o'Inspiration

Your voice as stained glass

I recently took part in a class that included, as one of the lecturers, the writer Tommy Orange. Here is an excerpt from his closing letter to the class:

If you take anything from our time together please let it be that there is a voice in you that could only come from you, and there is a part of you that is protecting the place that voice comes from, as it should, but there is a part of you that needs to have that voice be heard, in the way only it could speak, with its tone and with its syntax and with its story, whether that be by one person or a room full of people or a readership, or even if it's just you knowing you've found it for yourself.

Earlier I was reading ideas different writers have about voice, about particularity; how to define that, how to find that … but none of those ideas or definitions moved me in any way to want to find or use my voice. Tommy Orange’s words do.

Once you start trying to define voice, I’ve concluded, your brain (or maybe I should say my brain) gets off the creative track and onto a more academic track. An interesting track, sure, but not particularly inspiring.

Voice is kind of like stained glass. It begins as opaque glass, something generic, but in the process of doing or making it becomes particular and unique.

I teach creative writing, but often what I really want to say to my students is: Just write. Just sit there and write. See what comes out. After that we’ll move on to the next part.

Writing prompt: “I twisted and pulled myself free.”

P.S. No matter what is happening, now is the time to write.