I’m struggling to blog about my novel Flip Turn because I can’t figure out the right voice to do it in. I feel like I want to talk in its voice. I also feel like I want to talk in this more, what I would call – social – voice. The social voice would be one of those voices that knows a lot to do with critical thinking, that knows how to connect to others in a mature, relating way. Further, I suppose could write my blog in a more personal voice, like the one in Flip Turn, but one that is more mature. Like me. Now. I’m not a young girl anymore. But then I like saying shocking, direct things, more suitable to a young woman, actually, would be a better description of the voice in Flip Turn. Although, come to think of it, the voice in Flip Turn, is hard to pinpoint age-wise. It’s both young girl and young woman.  

Another pull to my voice is the audience. I do like to talk to my audience.

I have been reading a book of poetry written by a friend recently. Which for me can really help sometimes, feeling a personal connection to the writing, but I just could not hear her voice. It was really hard for me to read her work, even despite the fact I know her.

I was thinking she probably just isn’t a very voicey writer. I was thinking maybe she writes more from the word level. I thought maybe the reason it’s hard for me to read her is that I think words are dangerous. I don’t trust them. But then I thought, no, that’s not it. Quite. I think the distrust is more about the person, the being pulled into their grammar, their world view, I don’t trust. (can you believe I just admitted to that?)

Which makes me think, while my writing voice may be maturing, my ability to read is still pretty immature.

Or to let myself off the hook some, maybe I just prefer to read voicey writers. Which similarly I am.

As far as voice goes, I also talk to my cats a lot in a sort of voicey way too. In the talking-to-pets voice. My son has had a lizard for year now and for a while I really didn’t know how to be with him. (the lizard) But now I talk to him in that voice too. I put him on my knee and put blueberries on my other knee. I coo to him and once all the tension with the cats trying to figure out how to catch and eat him wanes, he thrusts his pretty pink tongue out, capturing a blueberry at a time with it and gobbles them down.

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