I’m really not happy with my voice. I don’t feel it’s engaging or colourful. It’s stilted, dry, terse, functional, monochrome, flat, toneless, dull, boring. I wish I could write about TC as well as I can criticise myself. It would be a masterpiece.
Reading Frank & Wall’s ‘Finding Your Writer’s Voice’ (St Martin’s Griffin1994) I stumble across the words ‘by following the voice and surrendering to it…’
Following? Surrendering! First you have to hear it. I can’t hear it, this voice that’s supposed to be inside me.
I hear John Lennon telling me to ‘turn off your mind, relax, float down stream’ and ’surrender to the voice’. It’s been a long time since I was in that sort of state, way back in the sixties. I gradually realise that I need to be father to myself. I have to believe that there is a child inside my, a real voice, a person capable of expressing himself with passion and conviction, with spontaneity and ‘urgency’ (Frank & Wall’s term). I have to give birth to this child, the communicator inside me who was never allowed to grow and develop when I was a physical child. Emotionally I’m still a child, and I need to give that child space to express and learn how to speak. I need to listen to the voice. I need to stop trying to tell the story, but to wait and give the story time to tell itself. I need to give the characters space, time, love. They are my children, and they need love and care, not constant demands to perform.
So much for what I need. What I actually DO is a different question.
