erika, i love you for that. and for you know, all the other stuff.

gah. I'm so excited to get it all done! Soon now.

That's what "distinctive voice" means for us, Allyson. Apart from the blank looks from the average. Like "pacing problems" means "big old boring slow spot."

I have a very distinctive voice.

Yup. And it's a goldmine.

What that means is that a posting by Allyson doesn't sound like a newspaper article, it doesn't sound like an NPR essay, it doesn't even sound like ita. When you write something, it sounds like you, and it doesn't sound like anybody else.

Editors LOVE that. Go to any writers' convention, and you'll hear editors saying "We aren't really looking for any topic, we're just looking for a unique, compelling voice". Then you will hear desperate writers asking how to fake that.

's true. You always sound very Allyson. It makes me smile. It's an enviably distinctive voice. Go Team You!

I don't really know what that means but it made me feel really really good.

Somewhere, probably back in the first GWW, I'm pretty sure I posted up my editor's comments about voice from her ongoing essay "How to Hook an Editor" in "Writing Mystery.

And you're damned right it should make you feel good, because a voice is what every editor wants. It brings everyone back for more. It gives you readers, over and over and over.

I told you you had voice, damn it. So does erika, actually; very distinctive.

It's not the same as necessarily being able to write well, but it takes you light years down the road in that direction, because honing the storytelling is a mechanical thing. The voice is there, or it isn't.

Welcome to the Sisterhood of the Travelling Writerly Voice.

I think I just don't get what it is and what it means. At any rate, I am home and took tomorrow off to polish Save Firefly, finish Random Acts of Paypal, and get the draft of The Misery Effect up on its legs.

I love this so much.

I think I just don't get what it is and what it means

It means that no one else sounds like you. Your writing brings you up to the reader, every time. It's a way of using a phrase, placing a comma that makes it a living breath instead of a grammatical afterthought. It's how you paragraph; after reading a few pieces, the reader knows where you're likely to break one, because it's standard Allyson.

There's no groping. There's no stumbling. And whenever someone who's read your stuff picks up more of your stuff, they're going to say, cool! This is Allyson's! without ever looking to see who wrote it.

It speaks for you.

Short form: dude, it's a Very Good Thing. Embrace it. Hell, my editor cited me as an example of voice in one oher essays and I preened for fucking fifteen years. Still am, in fact.

Ah! Thanks, deb. I understand.

preens

preens in corner with Allyson

And whenever someone who's read your stuff picks up more of your stuff, they're going to say, cool! This is Allyson's! without ever looking to see who wrote it.

Yep, what she said.

If it helps, some of the writers I read who have very distinct voices: Neil Gaiman, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Ray Bradbury, and Terry Pratchett.