I’m still looking for my voice. Doesn’t that sound strange? I’m blogging and sharing with whoever reads this blog, but I still haven’t found my voice. I’ve found A voice. I can recognize parts of my real voice in these words, but I think I’m trying to take on someone else’s voice and failing. I don’t even know exactly whose voice it is.
I read other people’s work and see that their writing is “lyrical” or some such adjective, and I aspire to hearing someone describe my writing that way. I read blogs of people whose “activist” voice is fully activated, and I find myself trying to emulate their style. The bottom line is that even though those are the kinds of writing I love to read and find inspiring, that’s not what my voice is. I don’t even know how to describe how I sound to myself or to anyone else who is reading. But it’s MY voice, and that should be good enough for me. It should be good enough for anybody.
I’m still working on accepting that. Every time I read something that touches my heart, I wish I could write like that. Every time I read something that makes me want to “kick ass and take names,” I think, “I could write like that.” When I sit down to write, it doesn’t come out anywhere close. But it comes OUT. Maybe for now, that’s good enough. I don’t know. All I know is I’m writing, and that makes me happy.