Find Your Topic, Not Your Voice

Image: sculpture of many faces attached to a column, all connected to one another by colorful wires.
“Communication | ArtPrize 2010” by Fellowship of the Rich is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Today’s post is by author Catherine Baab-Muguira (@CatBaabMuguira). Her book, Poe for Your Problems, releases in September 2021.


In setting out to become a writer, you must strive, above all, to discover your unique voice. At least, that’s become the conventional wisdom, taught in MFA programs as well as in more casual settings, from writers group meetings at Starbucks to free classes taught in the stuffy backroom of your local library. Yet there is so much wrong with this advice that, if you spend even one full minute giving it serious thought, your eyes will roll heaven-ward all on their own like Where even to begin?

Still, we must begin somewhere, so here goes.

How can you know what your tone will be when you don’t yet know what your topic is?

Where exactly do we think voice comes from if not from subject?

Which is the right cart and which is the right horse?

Sure, your unique sensibility may account for a large part of your hot takes, but would you write about muffins and genocide the same way, or Fords and fjords? And are we really so sure that voice trumps all other aspects of a piece of writing?

Finally, who is responsible for advancing this damnable, now-inescapable sick logic, and what is their address, because I’m thinking I might like to T.P. their house?

Maybe that seems a tad aggressive. But you have to consider the real damage this advice has wrought. All over the world, people’s drawers bulge with unpublishable novels, essays collections and memoirs in which there’s plenty of voice, yet no story, no real through-line, no sense of one’s audience beyond the assumption that they’re there. That’s the problem. This overemphasis on voice puts the focus on the writer and what they want to say and how they want to say it, ignoring more pertinent questions. Namely, considering how there’s Mare of Easttown to binge on HBO, why should anyone spend hours poring over your writing instead?

It also ignores the credentialism involved with the few novels and works of nonfiction that get acquired, more or less, because of voice alone. Publishers are a lot less apt to value your unique voice if that voice doesn’t come with degrees from Harvard or Iowa, or if you’re not reading this article while lounging on the terrace at Yaddo. It’s just a fact. There are exceptions, of course. The overall picture is, however, about as clear as any close-up of Kate Winslet, though not as pretty.

I rant like this from firsthand experience, from the wish I could time-travel back about 15 years and tell myself all this. My own writing breakthrough, the one that got me a book deal after a dozen years of trying, came from focusing on topic ahead of voice. Your writing struggles and goals may well be different. You are probably miles ahead of me, much less dense and much quicker to learn. But considering the prevalence of the conventional wisdom, let’s turn it on its head a minute.

What if you were to put the primary focus on your topic?

It might just help you land a book deal, climb some lofty bestseller list, scale those Everest-like Amazon ranks—and what’s more, the process is simple, no matter if you’re writing fiction or nonfiction.

  1. Pick a topic that fascinates you, or learn about a topic until it fascinates you.
  2. Lead with research. Google your subject to see what’s out there. Begin to gain a sense of whether an audience already exists.
  3. Bring that topic to the world.

This strategy can lead to more interesting writing, and interesting is what you need to be, considering you and I and everyone else we know are all working inside a full-fledged, entertain-or-GTFO attention economy. Few of us occupy such exalted positions that we can take audience for granted. This is all the more true if your goal is to eventually sell a book—again, fiction or nonfiction—because first you must prove to agents and acquisition editors that there’s a crowd of people eager to pay for it.

Your topic could, for example, take any of the following forms:

  • Things that interested you as a child
  • Ideas you can’t get out of your head
  • Places that have become your personal obsessions
  • Or some such B.S.: weird jobs, strange headlines, cultural trends, etc.

And your audience may pop up in such places as:

  • Facebook fan groups dedicated to your subject
  • Publications and other outlets (from podcasts to YouTube channels) dedicated to your subject
  • Reddit boards about your topic
  • Other writers who’ve covered this same subject, plus their audiences.

That’s to name just a few potential sources. The crucial thing about the exercise is that you start to accrue some data. You begin to think in terms of appropriate comps, i.e. other works like your potential work that have found an audience, maybe even seen some substantial success. Another benefit: You may also connect with a community devoted to your topic, which can help you lead a less lonely writer-ly existence, and maybe help you build a platform, too, once you start contributing to that community.

We could spend all day arguing about the reasons the emphasis on voice persists—how it’s easier to teach writing at the sentence level than at the story level, and how most people in a position to teach classes—especially college classes—come from prestigious backgrounds, the kind that encourages the New Yorker to pile praise atop their supposedly transcendent prose, never mind if the novel is meandering or the essays are kinda pretentious, kinda boring. The rest of us are unlikely to be given such leeway.

The good news is this lack of leeway can become a strength for you and me, rather than a weakness. Embrace it, and you might just grow into a more competent, entertaining writer. Most readers don’t give a crap about fancy prose—it’s far from their foremost concern. This has been true since humans were telling stories in caves, and it’s even more true today, when you as a writer aren’t just competing with literal Neanderthals but the best TV ever made, as well as Twitter, Instagram, TikTok and millions of already-published books. So, topic over voice, friend! Content > tone! Subject ahead of approach!

Besides, when you get your topic right, all your obsessive weirdness comes to the fore, starting to work for you for once. You enter flow, and suddenly, the awful pain of writing drops away. You fly, weightless, freed for a GD moment from the grind, and the prose pours out of you, your voice just showing up on the page like some welcome, expected guest, or like a free dessert. It’s freaking magic. Or at least worth trying, anyway.

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Harald Johnson

Yep. Totally agree. For me, it’s all about Story (Concept > Premise > Structure). Voice is way down the list.

Maggie Smith

This rings true to me because when I hear a great concept line, I immediately want to read the story. I never once stop to question whether I’ll like the voice. Just tell me a fascinating tale, please. For example, Razorblade Tears: Two fathers, both ex-cons, team up to track down the killer of their sons, whom they rejected because of their homosexuality. or a new one this fall, based on the open ending of the Great Gatsby – offering up Daisy, Jordan, or Myrtle as the real killer. Voice aside, I can’t wait to swallow those stories!

BarbaraLinnProbst

I love your voice in this essay, which I totally enjoyed. (Okay, I couldn’t resist. Plus it happens to be true.) Since it was written from a nonfiction perspective and I’m a novelist, I’d add that the counterpart for fiction is to find your story’s “aboutness” first—that is, find your theme, theme being the equivalent of topic in nonfiction. If you don’t know what the story is about, then all you have is a string of car chases. “Aboutness” can be anything from the search for wholeness (my first novel) to the need to find where one belongs (second novel) to the power of forgiveness or a second chance, Some people like to call it a “premise” but I think “aboutness” is more concise, since premise implies an if-then statement. In any case, I think your excellent point spans genres. Thank you!

Eileen Brill

I tend to agree with this perspective of topic over voice. Maybe I’m ill-informed or naive, but it seems that a writer’s voice will evolve naturally when she is writing about a topic she finds compelling and/or dear to her heart. My writing feels less contrived when I feel wedded to the subject and it resonates with me. The times I’ve tried to deliberately identify/establish my voice seemed to result less authenticity and, consequently, the projects when nowhere.

Stephen Kamugasa

My sentiments exactly, Ms Baab-Muguira!

Many years ago, when I ran a small literary society in Buckinghamshire, England, I heard a great deal about finding ‘your voice.’ I, for instance, struggled to discover what my voice was. But it all came together once I started to write about things I know well; that is, things relating to my personal experience as a refugee in England. And once I embraced the reality that I had once been a refugee, stories more or less wrote themselves. They still are. I love being able to share my experience as a former refugee. It is liberating and I never get bored….

Gabe McGrath

Great thoughts Catherine. I suppose by harnessing a topic we’re passionate about, we might be more likely to write ‘without a filter’ and thus the true voice comes through.

Just had a question though…

In regards to these 4 places ‘my audience’ may congregate:

(1) Facebook fan groups dedicated to your subject
(2) Publications and other outlets (from podcasts to YouTube channels) dedicated to your subject
(3) Reddit boards about your topic
(4) Other writers who’ve covered this same subject, plus their audiences.

Do you have any tips on how to promote in each of those online forums? I understand each of the 4 would have very different culture/mechanics.

Last edited 2 years ago by Gabe McGrath
Cat

Hey Gabe, thank you so much for reading and commenting. That’s a great question – how to operate inside these forums. I think the best thing to do is to lurk for a little while and get a sense of the culture, as you say. And then, once you begin to participate, do so by responding to other people’s interests and liking their posts as well as presenting your own thoughts and contributions. In my mind, it’s kind of like being a good dinner-party guest. You don’t hog the floor but try to be a good conversational partner. If your operative mode is “here to make friends,” it tends to be a good experience for everyone. I’ve also noticed, particularly on FB, that when you contribute to fan pages, using a picture or video along with text boosts response a good deal. Maybe it’s simply because posts become more eye-catching? And with other writers, I’ve found just cold-emailing the person often gets a great response. Who doesn’t like a little friendly fan mail? The worst-case scenario is you don’t get a response at all, and that’s not the most awful prospect…

Gabe McGrath

Thanks Cat. I appreciate the dinner-guest metaphor. And yep, definitely agree re using pic/video on Facebook absolutely trumps “text only”. I myself scroll very quickly past text-only posts.
Hmm, sounds like it’s time to start emailing those writers. Thanks again.

Alexis Skriloff James

Hello!
It is clear that the author of this article is a writer! She knows her stuff- voice is not first, but the topic is. In all the years that I have been a writer and editor, I have not understood what voice was or is as I still do not understand that particular term. For me, it was always topic and audience. I have read the entire article and have come away with renewed energy and faith in the world of writing and writers.

Sincerely,

Alexis I Skriloff James

Linda MacConnell

Thought-provoking. I’ve never looked at fiction writing from this angle before. It gave me something to ponder. Thank you.

John Matthew Walker

Voice develops as you write. I first picked up Max Lucado’s non-fiction for his title and cover. I picked up the next book for his voice, and the title and cover didn’t matter. The same is true when I first pick up a novel, but I pick up the next for the voice. If the voice is clunky, tangential, or stilted, I don’t finish the book, and I certainly don’t pick up the next one.
The problem you describe is missing the point that an author may not discover or fully develop a distinct voice until the third or fourth novel, at which point it is finally time to publish.
Topic is just a short way of saying target audience, which is equally important.