Here’s how you can build a “voice” so entertaining even your inner critic will shut up and listen…
But first let’s hit a little truth.
Not everyone’s born with the electric charm of a stand up comic.
(R.I.P George Carlin)
And you? Maybe you’re about as riveting as a beige wall at dusk.
Maybe you have the personality of cold oatmeal.
Maybe you’re convinced there’s a secret gene for “entertaining writer” and, oops, you missed the distribution line.
But there is some good news. It’s not the end of the road for you just yet…
The lies you’ve been told are all total bullshit.
Entertaining voices aren’t just something you’re born with. It takes years of being exposed to other people’s parts.
(Woah that sounds a bit pervy lol but I’m not rewriting it cause it’ll make sense in the next sentence)
Mix that in with some weird obsessions, and a dash of unhinged self awareness and you got something that is wildly Frankensteined together that even Mary Shelley would’ve been proud of.
The thing is. You can build yours, right here, right now. No sacrificial goats required (unless you’re into that, in which case, yikes, but also: we’ll need to talk)
How do we do it?
Blatant Outright Theft
Yep that’s right. No we aren’t going to prison but keep reading…
Consume: Read, watch, listen, scroll. Devour writers with voices you wish you had. Chuck Palahniuk, Samantha Irby, that one unhinged TikToker who reviews haunted dolls. It doesn’t matter. Drown in their cadence, their metaphors, their attitude.
Dissect: What makes their voice work? Is it the cussing? The pop culture deep cuts? The way they break the fourth wall and slap you with a joke? (The answer is yes, yes, and hell yes)
Remix: Grab what works. Stitch it together with your own weird quirks. Like that time you ate an entire pizza alone while doom scrolling Twitter. Mash it all up until it sounds less like “carbon copy” and more like I dunno? A casserole?
Sneaky Pro tip in Italics: The only original thing in art is your voice. Everything else is recycled. So steal. Steal with style.
Write Like Nobody’s Watching (Because Nobody Is, Yet)
…and you’re not going to have some writer-ly committee peering over your shoulder and watching you type words…
So get to it.
Break grammar rules. On purpose. Sentence fragments? Do it. Em dashes like you’re fencing with punctuation?
Hell yes. Parentheticals (like this) to whisper secrets to the reader? Don’t just allow it. Use it like a weapon.
(Tbh I used to love a good Em dash, but since A.I. has shit all over the internet while using it incorrectly, I’d maybe give that one a little bit of a swerve for now)
Talk to the reader. Second person isn’t just a POV.
When you think of second person. It’s more of a direct line. A psychic text message, straight into their brain.
“You ever feel like your writing is a cardboard cutout? Yeah, me too. Let’s set it on fire.”
Get weird. Use metaphors that make people squint and then snort.
“My prose was so dry it could sand the paint off a car. Time to lube it up with some personality.”
If you feel slightly embarrassed hitting “publish,” you’re probably on the right track.
Why? Because that shit is entertaining. I’m here to entertain myself firstly and if I’m entertained. You’re entertained.
Turn Up the Volume on You
1) Mine your flaws. Are you anxious? Chronically sarcastic? A recovering perfectionist who alphabetises their cereal?
Good. That’s fuel.
The world doesn’t need another slick, sanitised “personal brand.” It needs the real, raw, slightly unhinged you.
2) Embrace the cringe. Your inner critic is a gremlin that lives under your desk, gnawing on your confidence.
Give it something spicy to chew on. Like a story about the time you peed yourself in third grade.
(No? Just me? Moving on)
3) Make lists. (See what I did there?)
Bullet points and numbered lists are dopamine for the ADHD riddled TikTok internet brain.
Use them. Abuse them. Break up your text like it owes you money.
Bonus Round: Horror, Humour, and Heartbreak. Mix It Liberally
Nobody wants oatmeal. They want something electric, something that makes them laugh, wince, and maybe clutch their pearls. So throw in a little body horror
“My first draft was a shambling zombie, missing half a face. Beautiful in its grotesquery”
A little gallows humour, and a little raw, emotional honesty, bleeding right through your lines.
And if it gets a little messy? Good. Messy is memorable.
TL;DR:
Your voice isn’t missing. It’s just waiting for you to get weird, get real, and stop trying to be “professional.”
Break stuff. Eat the paint chips. Write something so entertaining, your inner critic will slink back into its lair, too stunned to complain.
We only live once, so we better make it memorable and entertaining.
Stephen Walker
P.S. I’m not gonna make you click any links today and do my bidding and if you’ve made it this far. I appreciate you sticking around and reading what pours out of my skull cavern.