How to find your author voice

When I start working with a new class, I get them to do an exercise in our first session. It’s a deceptively simple writing task: I ask them to describe, in no more than two or three sentences, the room that we’re sitting in. I use this exercise to help the writers in the room to come to a couple of conclusions about the craft of writing in general, but one of the conclusions that’s immediately obvious when I go around the table and have each writer read aloud is this: they all have their own unique, distinct, irrepressibly individual take on what that room encompasses.

They notice different things. They describe items in the room in different ways. They use different contexts, emotional profiles, points of reference. They find different metaphors to unpack the essence of what they see. Some writers use bold, unornamented prose. Some writers incorporate more linguistic flourishes. Some writers connect the room to its history; some writers connect the room to their history. Some writers speculate about the past, present, and future. Some writers are fixed on the tangible.

I’ve been teaching in this exact same room for 10 years now, and no two descriptions have ever been the same. That’s the essence of voice.

Spoiler: you’ve already found your author voice. You probably just don’t know that you’ve found it. Let’s explore.

Understanding author voice

So, what exactly do we mean when we talk about “author voice”? I like to think of it as a kind of writing fingerprint—that blend of tone, style, and personality that makes your work distinctly yours. It’s kind of a synthesis of everything you know, everything you’ve ever experienced, how you interpret the world, and how you express on paper the thoughts and emotions that flow from this unique combination of factors.

Now, here’s the thing: many new writers feel like they somehow need to create this voice from scratch. But you absolutely don’t. Your voice is already there, and the only thing you need to do is allow it to emerge on the page.

No “finding” required. But what you might need to do is learn how to recognise it.

Recognising your author voice

Reflect on your influences

Start by thinking about the authors who have made an impact on you. Who do you love reading? What books have kept you up at night because you couldn’t stop turning the page? Whose words do you find yourself thinking about long after you’ve finished their book? Whose words do you wish you could see appearing on the page when you sit down to write? (And, by the way, every word you write is a product of every word you’ve ever read, so, whether you can see it or not, your own writing reflects that of the writers you love without you even having to try.)

For instance, if you’re drawn to N.K. Jemison’s magnificent world-building or Kurt Vonnegut’s dry wit, consider what elements of their styles resonate with you. My author education was founded on Terry Pratchett, Ben Elton, and LM Montgomery—which, okay, I’ll grant you is a weird combination. I don’t write fantasy, satire, or nostalgia, but nevertheless I don’t have to look too hard at any of my novels to see where each author’s work impacts my voice. Every time I inject a dose of the absurd into a description (“It was probably quantum, or something,” is the quote from Edge of Heaven that immediately springs to mind), that’s Terry Pratchett. When I really lean into descriptive prose, that’s LM Montgomery (see also: high falutin’ language). All of the climate stuff is Ben Elton.

Your voice is your voice. It’s not the voice of the authors you love. But their words are the fire in which it’s forged.

Self-reflection exercises

Okay, let’s have a look at how you can start to unpack and recognise your voice in all its glorious individuality. The first section of the exercise is split into two parts—complete part (a) if you’re very new to writing and don’t have any text to analyse just yet. Go straight to part (b) if you’ve written three or more pieces of text of at least 500 words in length.

1(a) Choose one of the following prompts and freewrite until a story begins to emerge. Then develop that story until it’s at least 500 words long. (You can count the freewritten text as part of the 500 words, as long as it’s narrative and structured—stream-of-consciousness text is an important part of freewriting, but it won’t help you recognise voice). Then repeat at least twice more using different prompts.

A secret garden
Lost in a dream
The sound of silence
An unexpected visitor
Better late than never
The last train home
Beneath the stars
A letter never sent
Shadows in the alley
When the storm passed
A moment of courage
The colour of hope

1(b) Select three or more pieces you’ve written in the past few years—these could be short stories, essays, novel excerpts, creative non-fiction, even blog posts. Read through each of them carefully, and as you do, take note of specific characteristics that emerge. Ask yourself:

What themes tend to appear in my writing?
Are there particular phrases or words I tend to use frequently?
How would I describe the tone of my writing? Is it formal, conversational, humorous, reflective?
Do I lean toward vivid descriptions or concise statements?

Write down your observations. This can help you pinpoint patterns that reveal your voice.

2. Now, see if you can determine some expressions you’ve used that are uniquely you. Take a piece of your writing and highlight sections where you feel your personality shines through—moments where you felt particularly engaged while writing or where you used language that feels distinct. In particular, look for:

Unique metaphors or similes that resonate with your experiences.
Dialogue that reflects how you naturally speak or think.
Emotional responses or insights that are deeply personal.

These highlighted areas are often the clearest indicators of your author voice.

3. Choose a paragraph from one of your works and rewrite it in two different styles—one more formal and another more casual. Then compare these rewrites to the original paragraph. Reflect on:

Which areas of the rewritten works feel least comfortable to you? Why?
How does each style change the way your message is conveyed?
Where do you feel the original piece was strongest compared to either or both of the rewrites?

This exercise helps you recognise where and how your voice serves the way you convey information and why your unique style works for you as a writer. If there are elements of the rewritten pieces that you feel you could incorporate into your writing, that’s useful information, but, on the whole, this exercise should give you the confidence to articulate your individual approach—and why it matters.

“Your voice is your voice. It’s not the voice of the authors you love. But their words are the fire in which it’s forged.”

Embracing your voice

Acceptance over perfection

Perfection is overrated, and I will die on this hill. Perfection is unattainable. It stops writers from writing. And the pursuit of perfection generally results in bland, overwritten, over-edited prose that’s had its soul excised. Instead of striving for perfection, strive for authenticity. Embrace who you are as a writer.

Anne Lamott famously said “perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor,” and she was right—but in this instance, the oppressor is your voice of creative self-doubt. Remember: every writer has their quirks, and it’s precisely these little idiosyncrasies that make your voice special.

Nurturing your voice

Consistent practice

Like any skill worth having, finding and nurturing your author voice requires practice. Set aside time each week for writing without judgement. Even 5 or 10 minutes will do the trick, as long as they’re a regular part of your week. If you catch yourself thinking about the finished product and worrying that you’re falling short of the mark for whatever reason—stop. Just let those words flow onto the page without putting pressure on them to arrive in their final form.

Embrace evolution

Nothing creative is ever static. As you grow as a writer, as you add new experiences into your life, as you encounter new authors, as your personality evolves to meet your evolving life… your voice will evolve to match. This is not only okay, it’s actively fantastic. And that’s not because there’s anything wrong with your writing voice right now, any more than there’s anything wrong with you as a writer right now. It’s because art reflects life, and life is in a constant state of flux. I love this for us.

If we look at some of the greatest authors of the past 150 years, we can see this evolution in action through their work:

Virginia Woolf: Woolf’s writing style transformed significantly over her career. Early works like The Voyage Out exhibit traditional narrative structures, while her later novels, such as To the Lighthouse and Mrs. Dalloway, embrace stream-of-consciousness techniques and explore deeper psychological insights.
F. Scott Fitzgerald: Fitzgerald’s early works, particularly This Side of Paradise, reflect youthful exuberance and the author’s own experiences early in his career, while his later work, especially Tender Is the Night, shows a darker, more introspective tone that explores with themes of disillusionment and social critique.
Ray Bradbury: Bradbury’s early short stories often reflected optimism about technology and human potential (e.g., The Martian Chronicles), while his later work showed a more nostalgic and reflective tone on human experience and mortality.
James Joyce: Joyce’s style evolved from the realism and (relatively) straightforward narrative structure of Dubliners to the highly experimental forms seen in Ulysses and Finnegans Wake. His later works demonstrate increasingly complex language and structure.

Nothing is set in stone. The key is to remain open to this evolution: don’t be afraid to experiment with different tones or styles as your writing journey progresses. It’s all part of the process.

Final thoughts

Your voice is already woven into the fabric of your experiences, preferences, and perspectives—it’s simply waiting for you to recognise it.

Think of your writing as an ongoing conversation with both your readers— and yourself. Rather than striving for perfection or worrying about fitting into a specific mold, focus on authenticity. Your unique voice will resonate more deeply when it reflects your true self—quirks, imperfections, and all.

Finally, don’t forget that every great author has faced moments of uncertainty regarding their voice. It’s part of the creative process. Trust in your journey as a writer: each word you write brings you closer to understanding and celebrating your distinct voice.

Which author has had the biggest influence on your writing voice? Let me know in the comments!

How to find your author voice

Contents

Understanding author voice