In Writing All You Have Is Your Voice

I've had my writing rejected more times than I care to count. But that's life.

Some of those articles and stories, I freely admit, were not up to scratch, some might not have been a good match, and many simply didn’t make it because the publications get so many submissions the bar is extremely high.

I get it, honestly.

But the one reason why some of these have been rejected that I refuse to accept (and why I’m writing this now) is because of what they call "formatting."

It seems weird to say, but the English speaking world of online writing tends to feel largely American (at least the big publications all certainly seem to be) and they demand articles to be written in American English. Now, I’m British, and as a British man I am, as you would expect, a speaker of British English. Some places will outright demand that I write in American English in order to be considered. That’s their choice and up to them. Fair enough.

And while most of my writing life I have been bending over backwards to meet whatever criteria necessary, I find myself now, more and more, refusing to compromise (that is compromise with an s and not a z).

Before I say anymore, this is not another rant about ‘proper’ English, by a disgruntled Brit wanting ‘the yanks to speak the Queens and show some bloody respect’. British people criticising an American’s spelling of a word is, at this point, like flogging a horse that has been dead for over a century. It’s a bit sad and part of what this article is talking about.

Why does it matter?

The English language is extremely versatile and is spoken in more parts of the world than any other language. In itself, English is a hodge-podge of dozens of languages that have evolved and eventually been standardised in to something wonderfully simple on the face, yet more contradictory and convoluted the deeper you go.

But it isn’t just English. It is British English. It is American English. It is Indian English. It is countless other versions each as valid as the last. English as a whole has become a language group. All of these languages are different enough to have different names, but similar enough to still be readable and make sense.

Take away your voice and what are you left with? The same old string of words we’ve read a hundred times already.

For example, there will be nuances to Indian English I won’t understand or that will seem strange to me. But does that make Indian English unreadable? Not at all. I can read something in Indian English perfectly well and understand completely what it is saying, cultural nuances aside. And it is these cultural nuances that give the text life and meaning. So why should I demand that they speak my form of English?

Well, I shouldn’t, that’s the point. And neither should these publications.

I’m not saying an online publication is wrong to want some consistency from article to article, nor am I necessarily saying that they shouldn’t try to standardise things a little, but I am saying that if an editor tells me that writing in American English will get it published, then I’m going to cross my arms, dig in my heels, and ultimately take my ball and go home.

Am I petty and stubborn for doing so? Probably. But I think you should do the same.

Your voice is all you have

Ultimately, all of this comes down to your voice. I speak in British English, therefore I write in British English. To do anything else would be me imitating another style and offering nothing new.

This isn’t just about the language differences, it’s about word choice, the personality you inject in to your writing, the way you phrase something compared to how someone else does, the aforementioned cultural differences that influence you, the subjects you actually write about — you might not always have the most unique ideas, but you can sure as hell tell it your way. Take away your voice, flatten it out so its all the same as everyone else’s and what are you left with? The same old string of words we’ve read a hundred times already.

If I’m reading an article, I want their voice. I don’t want to read something by two different writers and for them to feel exactly the same. I want to read a turn of phrase, a certain style, a particular word use unique to them. That’s their voice. That’s them being true to themselves.

While helpful to keep us on the right track, if grammar tools are overused, they can often lead us in to a frenzy of corrections and adjustments that sucks the personality out of our writing, and it feels like this is where we are heading with inline writing. Get yourself on Grammarly and take every grammar suggestion they offer, and you’ll see what I mean. Not only will it not sound like you’ve written it anymore, it won’t even sound like an actual human has written it. It’ll just be a generic, homogenised, cold string of words on a page, assembled by an algorithm. Technically, it will be correct, but to a reader, it will be lifeless.

Your writing should be distinctly you. Your voice is your own and should never be changed. Make sure it is correct, sure, but don’t allow it to be sucked of any life.

Write how you want and about what you want (within reason). That is your right. That is why you were given a voice in the first place. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should be using it. If you’re British and an American editor demands you spell colour like color, politely tell them to do one. It might seem like it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but your voice is your greatest asset, and you should never have to compromise on that.