I woke up the other day to find that I still had flu but no longer had a voice! I’ve never experienced anything like it. I felt like an accordion without any air. If I exerted lots of effort, I could get words out but everything sounded flat and monotone. I couldn’t express myself. Even my laughter wasn’t taking flight.
I had to start text messaging to get meaning and colour into my words. This got me thinking about ‘the writer’s voice’, that a writer’s voice really is just like a voice with its own distinct personality. Without personality, words on a page are as bland as cardboard computer speak. And that can easily happen when one is ‘writing for a market’.
So, all in all, there’s an upside to my experience: realizing that a voice, something I’ve always taken for granted, is a magical and powerful thing indeed. Just like spices bring flavour to dishes, voices bring life to human interactions. And in losing my real voice, I’m being nudged closer to my real writing voice, as weird or as wonderful as it may be.