Finding Your Voice

How to stop sounding like your favourite authors and start sounding like yourself

Writers talk about "finding their voice" with the same ominous reverence normally reserved for ancient prophecies or tax audits. It sounds mysterious, elusive — a creative rite of passage requiring candles, chanting, and possibly a pilgrimage to a windswept cliff.

In reality? Your voice already exists. It's been living in your head rent-free since you were small. The challenge isn't "finding" it—it's clearing away the noise long enough to let it speak.

Your writing voice is the single most important piece of your craft. It's also the thing writers struggle with the most. That's because we try too hard to manufacture a voice instead of allowing one to form naturally.

Let's dismantle the myth, explore what voice actually is, and walk through the practical — not mystical — ways to uncover and develop yours.

What Writing Voice Actually Is (and What It's Not)

A lot of writers assume voice is how they sound on the page. But voice isn't a tone you put on like a costume. It's not a persona. It's not an accent or a stylistic flourish you sprinkle like seasoning.

Voice is your way of being in the world translated into words.

It's your worldview, your humour, your emotional range, your obsessions, your rhythms, your curiosity, your contradictions.

We never have to "find" our voice as people — it's simply who we are. So why, when we sit down to write, do we suddenly panic and try to sound like Margaret Atwood, Stephen King, or that one guy on Twitter (X) who writes smugly about productivity?

Because voice feels vulnerable. And when something feels vulnerable, we reach for disguises.

But here's the thing:

If you manufacture a voice, you will burn out. If you mimic, you will sound hollow. If you imitate, your writing will never feel fully alive.

Your readers can tell the difference. So can you.

If you're still untangling the difference between "voice" and "tone," we go into much more detail on our Voice & Tone page. This will help you understand how they work together without tripping over each other.

Why Voice Matters

You can write clean prose and still feel forgettable. You can craft perfect plots and still fail to connect. But a distinctive voice? That's the gravitational pull that brings readers to your door and keeps them there.

Voice is what gives you:

• authenticity

• consistency

• creative freedom

• emotional resonance

• staying power.

It is the only sustainable way to write long-term. If you're not being yourself, you'll eventually get exhausted trying to maintain the performance.

A Cautionary Tale You've Probably Lived Yourself

When I first started writing fiction, I desperately wanted to be like Stephen King. I devoured his novels. I studied his sentences. And — shockingly — my writing began to sound like an unconvincing King prototype. All style, no soul.

Years later, I wrote something small and strange that felt fully like me — witty, weird, and scary in a way that makes you want to run up the stairs at night. It felt natural. Effortless. Vulnerable. I thought, well, that was fun… probably unpublishable.

Then it got anthologised.

The lesson?

Readers respond to truth, not performance.

 

The Myth of "Finding" Your Voice

Here's the controversial bit: Voice is not something you go hunting for.

Voice is revealed:

• through practice

• through play

• through vulnerability

• through emotional honesty

• through the topics you care about.

The more you force it, the faker it becomes.

It's like dating: If you pretend to be someone you're not, you might get away with it briefly. But eventually the mask slips, and everyone feels very uncomfortable.

Your writing deserves better than an awkward third date energy.

Copying Other Writers Isn't Wrong — It's Useful

Every writer begins in imitation. It's how musicians learn. It's how painters learn. It's how toddlers learn to speak.

Imitation is a tool — not a destination.

Copying your favourite authors teaches you:

• rhythm

• sentence shape

• emotional pacing

• narrative breath

• your own magnetic preferences.

You can even take it further:

Try writing out a chapter of your favourite novel by hand. Not to mimic — just to learn. You'll notice craft techniques you missed while reading.

If you want to explore the mechanics behind why a text works, the Plot Diagnostics & Revision Guide is a brilliant companion.

Practical Ways to Uncover Your Voice

Here's where we get hands-on. These exercises blend the strongest ideas from your notes with a few more from the Elevate Editing toolkit.

A. Describe Yourself in Three Words

Then ask: "Is this how I talk on the page?" If not, there's a disconnect worth exploring.

B. Imagine Your Ideal Reader

Describe them in absurd detail. Then write to them, and only them.

Writing for "everyone" dilutes your voice. Writing for one person sharpens it.

C. Read Writers You Admire and Ask Why

What do they do that pulls you in? Humour? Brutal honesty? Sparse prose? What you admire often mirrors what you value.

D. List Your Artistic Influences

Music. Films. Games. Stand-up comedians. These flavours should slip into your writing — not be repressed because you're worried someone "won't get it".

E. Ask Trusted People: "What Do I Sound Like?"

You'll be surprised by the consistency in their answers.

F. Freewrite Without Editing

Let the words out. Read it back. Ask: "Do I ever publish things that sound like this?" If not, why not?

This pairs especially well with the Writing Mindset & Mental Health Worksheet — it helps track authenticity over time.

G. Write Something Only You Could Write

Something weird. Something oddly specific. Something you'd never show your Year 8 English teacher.

That's where your voice hides.

H. Keep Word Lists

List your loves, hates, fears, obsessions — the emotional DNA of your writing.

I. Try the "Keep The Hand Moving" Method

Write so fast your inner critic can't keep up. Critics can't interrupt if you refuse to pause.

Set a timer and don't stop writing until it's finished.

Then ask yourself: Would I read this?

If the answer is no, don't force yourself to write like someone you wouldn't choose to read.

The Emotional Side of Voice

Voice thrives in vulnerability.

If you feel slightly afraid before hitting "publish", that's often a sign you're getting close to your authentic sound. If you feel nothing? You might be playing it too safe.

Emotional authenticity requires risk — but not dramatic, life-altering risk. Just the gentle risk of being yourself.

If fear is blocking you, the Overcoming Writer's Block Guide explores exactly how emotion muddles creativity and how to work with it, not against it.

Your Voice Is Connected to What You Love

Flannery O'Connor once wrote:

"The writer can choose what he writes about but he cannot choose what he is able to make live."

Your voice comes alive when you write what you love — not what you think you should love.

If you're obsessed with cowboys, folklore, cosmic horror, celebrity scandals, cosy small towns, sentient mushrooms… whatever your thing is — follow it.

Success comes from passion, not respectability.

Stephen King writes horror not because he "wasted" his talent but because horror is what ignites his creativity. If he'd forced himself into literary realism, we might never have had Carrie — or the thousands of writers inspired by it.

What to Do When You Still Feel Lost

Voice evolves. Your early voice won't match your mid-career voice. Your novel voice won't match your blog voice. Your morning voice won't match your midnight voice.

This is normal.

If you're still unsure, focus your attention on the guides that help you understand your style and emotional patterns: [These are currently under development and will be available soon]

• Writing Mindset & Mental Health

• Self-Editing for Writers

• Overcoming Writer's Block

• Character Development Prompts

These all support the deeper work of discovering who you are on the page.

Voice isn't a single discovery. It's a conversation with yourself over years.

Final Thoughts

You don't need to reinvent yourself. You don't need to sound clever, or lyrical, or sparse, or edgy. You don't need to copy your idols. You don't need to be impressive.

You just need to be honest.

Your writing voice is already inside you — it's the part of you that shows up when you stop trying to impress, stop trying to imitate, and stop trying to hide.

Let it speak. Everything else will follow.