Yesterday I covered a hockey game for the local paper. Now I’ve watched hockey for years (okay, decades), read game notes, and of course written hundreds of articles. But I’ve never watched a game and written about it.
I wasn’t really that worried. I’m confident enough in my own writing skills and hockey knowledge to know that I could do it (though I did get caught with my head down a couple of times during goals — you don’t realize how great instant replay is until you don’t have it!)
I did do a bit of research, brushing up on covering a hockey game by reading some recent NHL pre-season articles. I would have likely Googled to find some hockey writing tips, or perhaps more likely, covering sporting events in general.
This doesn’t sound too far removed from any type of writing. If we are not sure of a certain format, like web content writing or brochure writing, we will likely search out answers. What we are doing is essentially trying to find out: “How would you write this?”
I realized yesterday that this might be the wrong way to go about it. I think the most important question we should ask is: “How do I write this?” Sure, we might need some help with stylistic and grammatical choices to fit the format. But we all have our own writing voice.
So I wrote the piece the way that I would write the piece. Not the way that Fluto Shinzawa covers Bruins games for the Boston Globe, or Bob McKenzie passes along his hockey insights on TSN. Not even the way the editors of the paper would write it.
I used to listen to Frank Sinatra’s “I Did It My Way” and thought it was a little arrogant, a sort of “my way or the highway” kind of thing (which was kind of what he was all about anyway…) But now I’m a little more optimistic about that song. Perhaps it means finding our own voice.
Learning the writing craft is an ongoing process, and seeking the help of others is only natural. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how Shinzawa writes it or McKenzie says it or Sinatra sings it. It only matters how I do it — and how I continually look for ways to do it better.
~Graham
Yeah, it’s ironic, but do you have a “finding your voice” story? Let us know how you did it your way in the comment section below!
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Ellen Wilson (2 comments.) says:
Hi Graham,
I remember reading about writer’s finding this magical “voice,” and I thought, what the hell is that about? Did they go into a trance, or did some wise professor deam their “voice” lovely and pure? Thus giving them a touch of the wand of words?
I forgot where I read this, but someone said, “If you can talk you can write.” How freeing! Suddenly I could speak and write at the same time! I know longer had to worry about the special “voice” only the very best writer’s had.
I do understand your point though. When I look through my writing there are actually many different “voices.” I’m not sure I would call them voices though as opposed to calling them different angles or writing in diferent forms or genres.
By the way, I’m going to link to that writers’ block post you wrote on earlier because I like what you had to say. I meant to do it earlier but didn’t get around to it. It was rather ironic that I had it in my head and then stumble across your post.
I currently find my self in a similar situation regarding a post about backpacking and writing and came across a reference to Kelly She Power who had wrote a post about backpacking and writing. I think it’s only right to write my post and then find hers.
This is quite a conundrum for me. Maybe I should write a post about it. You know how we writer’s are loathe for people to copy us. It’s unethical.
Anyway, I will quit babbling on. I don’t usually leave such long winded comments!
Ellen
Ellen Wilson’s last blog post..Personality Types Explained
Graham Strong says:
Hi Ellen,
Yes, it is a very elusive thing, finding your own voice. But at the same time, it’s quite simple (which likely adds to its elusivity…)
I think it is kind of like riding a bike, but for writers. When you first start out, you concentrate on pushing the pedals, keeping your balance, avoiding the curbs… The more you think about it, the more you crash. The more you fret over it, the more imbalanced you become.
And then one day you just decide “I’ve practiced enough — now I’m going to ride.” You pick up the bike and away you go.
Perhaps I was a bit luckier than some. I always have a monologue going through my head. So I just write what comes to mind. Sure, that’s a bit simplistic — there is always the rewriting, where the real stuff takes off. But getting down those first raw thoughts is crucial. The less you worry about keeping your balance, the more you can open yourself up to the words.
That’s my thought, anyway.
Thanks in advance for the link — glad you liked the post! I don’t think there is anything wrong with elaborating on on people’s posts. We are all commentators here to a certain degree, and I think if we have something to add to the conversation beyond the scope of a comment below, it’s fine to post your own viewpoint on the subject. I liked Kelly’s post too, but I’m sure it wasn’t the first to compare backpacking with writing either. (Which makes me think — funny how so many travellers are writers, or perhaps it’s vice versa…?)
My advice, if you are looking for it, post away!
~Graham
Ellen Wilson (2 comments.) says:
Graham,
Oh yes…the rewrite. That is the meat of it. Good point.
I don’t know why so many travelers are writers. I suppose when you get away from what you see everyday you have the opportunity to view things with fresh eyes. There are a lot of aha! experiences.
Ellen Wilson’s last blog post..Personality Types Explained
Graham Strong says:
Hi Ellen,
I have a feeling that it has something to do with the introspective nature of both writers and travellers. It’s almost counter-intuitive — people need to “get out there” to find out “what’s in here”.
My theory has always been that you can’t know yourself in your own surroundings. It’s hard to determine where “you” starts and “your environment” ends. Small example: I held the door open for a girl once in Hungary, and she thought that was very rude. Of course, I was shocked by this — I was only trying to be nice! But she explained that in her culture, the man always entered a new building/area/situation first. I guess this a cultural gesture towards the fact that the man make sure it is not dangerous before the woman follows.
Makes total sense when you think about it (you know, from a total historical/cultural perspective). But if I had never travelled to Hungary, I would never have seen that side of the coin — and that side of me…
~Graham
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