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Finding My Writer’s Voice

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by Olive Balla

Olive Balla245

Science tells us no two humans are exactly alike, that each of us is a distinctive amalgamation of DNA and life experiences. It follows, then, that inside every writer lives a one-of-a-kind Voice, a Voice I believe resides not only in the brain, but in the gut. And it’s never too late to find it.

Searching for my Voice as a writer has been an interesting process. It has not been as easy as I thought it would be, but after nearly twenty years of plugging away, some things are finally beginning to click. My writer’s Voice is making herself heard. And it’s been an amazing trip of self-discovery, albeit one that is taking place late in my life.

I always assumed clever writing to be just a matter of focusing one’s mental faculties. I thought anyone plopped down into the right scenery could crank out creative, imaginative stuff that people would clamor to read. Cool stuff, the warp and woof of which open up new neural pathways in the reader’s brain, the cadence of which draws the reader in and compels him to better himself, or the cocoon of which offers solace to one overwhelmed with the pain that life inflicts upon the living.

But from the moment I first put my fingers on the keys of my laptop, I realized that was a false hypothesis. Great writing is not merely the result of a writer’s ability to wax cerebral. Great writing springs from the craftsman’s ability to connect with his unique Voice.

Early on in my writing career, I tended to pattern my own writing after that of some of my favorite authors. I mimicked Agatha Christie, Helen McInnes, and even Isaac Asimov. It was as if I could plug into a writer’s version of one of those electronic voice filtering gizmos. You know, the things that have the ability to make a five-year-old girl sound like James Earl Jones.

And why not ape the best of the best? After all, the greats became so by opening their writer Voices full-throttle. Copying their Voices saved me the trouble of having to search for my own.

I soon discovered, however, that the trouble with writing in someone else’s Voice is that it pushed my own into the periphery. But as is the way of things, even as I felt secure in my not-me mask, my authentic Voice would stubbornly make herself heard. And the more often I glimpsed her, the more determined I became to give her air.

Pursuant to that end, I bought some books guaranteed to catapult my writer’s Voice into up-and-running mode. Each author offered a list of tried-and-true strategies to get one’s metaphorical peristaltic muscles moving “in no time at all.”

One interesting how-to suggested I dress, act, and talk like one of my characters for a day. Another told me to flood my senses with potpourri and my favorite instrumental music while writing. Yet another commanded me to meditate on the meaning of life while staring at my navel.

I did all that. And I found it interesting. However, while those strategies may be effective devices for some, they didn’t work for me. My explain-everything-so-the-kids-can-understand-and-pass-the-test inner teacher didn’t seem to want to let go of the controls.

That is, until I discovered something called free writing. Here’s how it works: I sit comfortably at my desk, a pen and pad of paper in front of me. I clear my mind as much as possible, and then write whatever thoughts pour forth. I don’t censor anything. Sometimes I write the same word several times, and sometimes the result is meaningless drivel. But often, fun and exciting things pop onto the page. Things I’ve then built into stories–uniquely my own.

According to a Dutch proverb, “We get too soon old and too late smart.” While there’s something to that, it’s encouraging to note that Mary Wesley didn’t get published until she was 71; Colonel Harlan Sanders didn’t start up his first Kentucky Fried Chicken establishment until he was 66; the famous American artist known as Grandma Moses didn’t begin painting until in her seventies, and Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote and published her Little House books when in her sixties.

So, my evenings and weekends are spent spelunking into the caverns inhabited by my Voice, relishing the tasty morsels she leaves in the pathway for me to follow. And I, in turn, saw away at the chains forged by the fear of being seen as different, fear of making mistakes, fear of rejection, and the fear that it’s too late. Because, it’s never too late. It’s NEVER too late.

AnArmAndALeg72Olive Balla, author of suspense novel An Arm and a Leg, is mother of 3, grandmother to 13, great-grandmother of 4, a retired educator, and part-time professional musician. Having been everything from secretary at a used car dealership, a university student, and a high school Spanish teacher, Balla states her characters are, in part, amalgamations of people she’s met. Living with her husband Victor in the Albuquerque area, she spends her spare time in a small woodworking shop designing and building everything from breadboxes and wine racks, to a porch bench. Visit her website at omballa.com.

This article was originally published in the April 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.



An Interview with Author Olive Balla

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Olive Balla is a great-grandmother, retired educator, part-time professional musician, and novelist. Her love of storytelling began as a child with inventing stories—especially ghost stories—to entertain her friends. After she got serious about writing, it took a journey of almost seven years to see her debut mystery/suspense novel in print. An Arm and a Leg was published by The Wild Rose Press in 2014. For two years of that journey, Olive shared her views on the writing life in a monthly column for SouthWest Sage. She continues in that vein in her “Life Lesson” series on her website/blog at OMBalla.com.

AnArmAndALeg200What is your elevator pitch for An Arm and a Leg? Albuquerque divorcee Frankie O’Neil dreams of having what she calls a normal life. But given her penchant for making the worst possible decisions about men, the fact that she hoards food, and hears the voices of long-dead relatives who hint at a dark family secret, her life is anything but normal. Then her brother is shot before her eyes just minutes after leaving an oddly-shaped package in her freezer, and the police suspect her of murder. Ordered not to leave town, Frankie must deal with her dead relatives’ determination to be part of her life, try not to fall in love with the deputy who suspects her of being a cannibalistic serial killer, and prove her innocence by finding the real killers—ideally before they kill her. And if a death threat written in children’s chalk beside a strangled bird on her front porch, a speeding car intent on running her down, and flames destroying her home are any indication, time is running out.

What sparked the initial story idea for An Arm and a Leg? I was sitting in a café with my husband near a table of young men. Around bites of egg and between guffaws, they chatted about a recent camping trip they’d taken to White Sands. One suddenly announced, “So that’s where we decided to bury Mike.” My undoubtedly horrified expression gave my kibitzing away, and the young man laughed and explained they’d buried their friend up to his neck in the sand. I was relieved at the disclaimer, but the images that initial comment evoked kept chewing at me until I had no choice but to write my own version.

Which point of view did you enjoy writing the most, the protagonist’s or the antagonist’s? Both perspectives drew me in. But I’d say the darkness of my antagonist’s soul called out to my lizard brain more than the angst in my protagonist’s. No one gets to be my age, without sustaining some fairly sizeable dings and dents. Writing about evil folks getting their due is immensely satisfying.

What unique challenges did this work pose for you? Amazing how difficult it was to plant my butt in the chair and write every day. About the time I’d get focused, life would throw some interruption in my face that demanded my “immediate attention.” That, combined with hundreds of ways to procrastinate, is why a novel that should have been completed in one year took me seven.

Why do you write in the mystery/suspense genre? In sixth grade, I managed to get my hands on a yellow-paged, worn copy of one of Richard Prather’s Detective Shell Scott paperbacks. It was the first non-school, non-religious book I’d ever read, and as such would have been thrown out had it been discovered. Hiding it under my pillow during the day, pulling it out at night, and reading it under the tent of my bedcovers by the light of a flashlight was a delicious, addicting act. The book not only mesmerized me, but planted seeds that were later watered and fed by authors like Agatha Christie, Helen McInnes, Isaac Asimov, and Louis L’Amour.

What are you most happy with, and what do you struggle with most, in your writing? I’m most happy during that initial rush of creativity, when the skeleton of a story pours itself onto my laptop screen almost of its own volition. I struggle most with my internal editor, who never saw a sentence she liked, or of which she approved. Ever.

What do you want to be known for as an author? Her stories helped lighten the load. That would be a neat epitaph.

Who do you wish you were more like in your own writing? For several years I tried writing like some of my favorite authors. But, like full-fat ice cream vs. non-fat, the resulting flavors were neither satisfying, nor real. My goal is to fully develop my own voice.

What role, if any, does music play in your creative process? Music has always been integral to my psyche – I wrote my first piano piece when I was ten. I often listen to music either just before, or during my writing time. Nothing like a little Twisted Sister to get me riled up.

Share a bit of your journey to publication and how you chose your publisher. My journey has most likely been a fairly common one. I thought, erroneously as it turns out, that I needed to have an agent in order to get into print. Had I continued to pursue major publishers, that would have been the case—most of them will not even look at un-agented work, nor will they accept unsolicited manuscripts. After I expectantly queried dozens of agents, was either rejected or got no response at all, I rewrote my pitch and edited my manuscript then sent off the second version, which was also rejected (repeat this cycle countless times). I spent a couple of years tightening, editing, and refining my prose. I found three beta-readers, paid a book doctor to help with my pitch, paid an editor to look at the first twenty pages, and revised some more. I purchased books by James Scott Bell and Noah Lukeman, put their sage advice into practice, went to the Preditors and Editors website (www.pred-ed.com), chose five small-but-reputable publishers and queried them. The result was that within one week I got four contract offers. I chose my publisher based on their reputation (as reflected on the Preditors and Editors site), the number of authors they represent, and what they offered me.

What would you do differently if you were starting your publishing career today? I’d lighten up, not be so hard on myself. In a thousand years, it’ll all be dust anyway. Although Beowulf is still being taught in literature classes, no one even knows who wrote it, or exactly when.

If you had an unlimited budget, how would you spend your money for marketing and promotion of your book? I’d first pay my bills, then print thousands of copies to donate to libraries across the country. Too many people don’t have access to the short-term pain relief brought by submerging oneself in a book. Louis L’Amour pulled me through some pretty dark days.

What projects are you working on now? I have four novels in various stages of development: a sequel and a prequel to An Arm and a Leg, and a couple of futuristic mysteries.

What advice do you have for discouraged writers?

  • Bumblebee physiology is inconsistent with flight, so instead of flapping their wings up and down like a bird, they wave them in a figure eight pattern. Unwilling to walk from flower to flower, they achieve their goal by working with the laws of physics to find a way to fly. It’s the same with writing: if one avenue doesn’t pan out, find another.
  • Keep on keeping on. In the words of David Morrell, author of First Blood, if you have something interesting to say, someone will help you say it. But no one’s going to do the work for you.

KLWagoner150_2KL Wagoner (writing as Cate Macabe) is the author of This New Mountain: a memoir of AJ Jackson, private investigator, repossessor, and grandmother. She has a new speculative fiction blog at klwagoner.com and writes about memoir at ThisNewMountain.com.



Murdering English: Justifiable Homicide?

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by Olive Balla

Olive Balla245

I just drove by, for the umpteenth time, a sign outside a shop characterizing something going on inside as a “Huge Bead Sale.” Each time I pass the sign, my eyes are drawn to it and I begin, against my will, to channel my high school English teacher. What would one do with a huge bead, anyway? Plant begonias in it, perhaps? And then a battle ensues between my Language Purist and my inner Wannabe Writer. Ugly, grammar-murdering thoughts lay siege to the edifice of proper language usage. Signage thrift aside, the specificity alone has merit. Much better than “Oodles of beads on sale. Come on in and browse.”

By the time I’ve driven beyond the little store, I’m intellectually spent, an over-thinking prisoner of the rules of the English language. And I’m not alone in my dichotomous inner debate. I’m told there is a movement afoot—a fairly militant movement—to keep the Queen’s English pure, both here in the United States and abroad. No euphemisms, slang, or idiomatic expressions allowed. Even some Johnny-come-lately entries in later editions of the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary are not acceptable.

But which incarnation, pray tell, of the Queen’s English are the Language Police trying to preserve? Remember the prologue to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales written in Middle English? Having been required in high school English Lit to memorize the first twenty lines, and in the spirit of showing rather than telling:

Whan that aprill with his shoures soote The droghte of march hath perced to the roote . . .

Oh wait, that’s not the Queen’s English. It’s the King’s English, since King Edward was the monarch during the fourteenth century.

Or even better, how about the first two lines of The Lord’s Prayer in Old English, the language common to the geographical area that became England during the fourth and fifth centuries. Here English language purists, put this in your pipe and smoke it.

Fæder ure, þu; þe eart on heofonum; Sie þin nama gehalgod . . .

At the other end of the spectrum are those who hold that communication in any shape, form, or fashion is fair game. Can’t find a word that means what you’re trying to express? Make one up. No artistic boundaries. No time to tap out an email missive? No problem. Just jump into texting mode. (A lexicon is available online.) Ah, the freedom.

The older I become, the more I lean toward the best-word-is-one-I’ve-made-up crowd. And it’s not entirely due to failing memory. LOL. It’s because our language sometimes doesn’t match what I’m struggling to express, short of George Carlin’s Seven Dirty Words. (Too young to remember friend George? Google him.)

According to linguists the world over, languages are living entities. Just like any other adaptive creature, they are constantly evolving. Even over the past forty-five years, the language used in America has changed dramatically. For example, in the late sixties if something was exceptional, it was righteous or bitchin. And the words lettuce, cabbage, dust, bread, shekels, and geetuss were all used to mean “money.” Within the past decade, if something was terrific, it was the bomb. And even more recently, something noteworthy was sick, dope, or crazy cool.

It seems every generation, in an attempt to break away from the commonly accepted language of their oldsters, enjoys messing with English. Case in point: the word money, in what’s currently known as gangsta rap, does not refer to any medium of exchange, but to a person—as in “wassup money.” (You guessed it, a gangsta rap lexicon can be found online.)

Focused on the purely spiritual rewards of writing, as opposed to writing for material gain? Then you won’t be impressed to learn that gansta rapper Snoop Dogg’s already passé “fo shizzle my nizzle” language-morphing net worth currently stands at about $150,000,000. I’m just saying.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the proper use of the English language. There is something about the well-turned, grammatically correct phrase that resonates with my third-generation educator DNA. And I love to use words of more than two syllables. But unless I’m writing for academia, or unless my target is the more cerebral among us, I have to curtail that urge in my stories. Because if no one wants to read what I write, what’s the point?

And so I call upon every wannabe-published author to metaphorically bind and gag your inner English teacher. Write what pours from your solar plexus, not just from the literary academic lobe of your brain. Play with the language. You learned the rules (thanks to your actual English teacher). Good for you. Now go forth and break some of them. You know you want to.

What are your thoughts on the proper use of English? Is the ever-evolving nature of the English language a “good” or “bad” thing?

AnArmAndALeg72Olive Balla, author of suspense novel An Arm and a Leg, is mother of 3, grandmother to 13, great-grandmother of 4, a retired educator, and part-time professional musician. Having been everything from secretary at a used car dealership, a university student, and a high school Spanish teacher, Balla states her characters are, in part, amalgamations of people she’s met. Living with her husband Victor in the Albuquerque area, she spends her spare time in a small woodworking shop designing and building everything from breadboxes and wine racks, to a porch bench. Visit her website at omballa.com.

This article was originally published in the February 2013 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.



The Late-Blooming Writer

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by Olive Balla

Olive Balla245You’re over fifty, your kids are raised, your relationships are simple, you’ve learned most of life’s lessons firsthand, and now you want to write. Welcome. Welcome to the ranks of Late-Blooming Writers. As one of the aforementioned, I’ll share some of the bits and pieces of information gleaned along my path toward publication.

First, set a goal. Want to write meaningful poetry? Want to knock out a bestselling novel? Write down what you want to make happen. And then put it someplace where you’ll see it. Often. Next, stretch your brain-muscle. A good way to do that is to meditate. Thousands of pages of research indicate that meditating a few minutes a day will change the actual physical make-up of your brain. So will Sudoku, or jigsaw and crossword puzzles. And you’ll need to grow a tough skin. Not the kind that insulates you from the world, or squeezes the juice from your sensitivities. But the kind that allows the slings and arrows of rejection to roll harmlessly off as you do the trial and error thing to find your Writer’s Voice.

Then you’ll need to bone up on the basic rules of grammar and the elements of style. Strunk and White offers a small but priceless treasure trove of style tidbits. Besides learning the difference between showing and telling, you’ll need to use strong verbs, stay away from passive voice, and use few, if any, adjectives or adverbs. Oh, and you would be wise to eschew any iteration of the verb “to be.” You get the idea. Just as with any craft, you must first learn the rules, beginning with the basics.

Pitfall number one: Writer Entitlement. It’s an interesting but recurring phenomenon in wannabe writers, that their opinions about their own writing skills outshine the reality. I’ve read this in countless articles and blogs, so there must be something to it. We’ve always been told how well we write, so we figure our success is assured. However, none of us have been born with the Consummate Writer Gene already firmly installed. The kind of writing that gets published requires hard work and focused attention, followed by vigorous, time-consuming (often painful) revision.

Pitfall number two: Memoirs. Once you’ve generated dozens of chapters of the novel you can’t quite finish, after writing several essays and short stories, and once you’re absolutely certain you’ve reached the apex of writing competency, you’ll find yourself considering the possibility of writing your memoirs. Some would say it’s never too early to chronicle your life experiences. But unless your aim is to produce something solely for the historical value it might have to your family, it seems to me a better idea to put a memoir on hold—at least until after your first book is published. Although your life has doubtless resembled a roller coaster in its hairpin curves and surprising twists and turns, it’s tough to sell a memoir until someone, somewhere, knows your name. That is, unless you dated someone famous and decide to write a kiss-and-tell. Note: Just a suggestion, but if you want to write your memoirs as revenge for a lifetime of wrongs, you might consider finding a good attorney to cover your back. Libel suits can be expensive indulgences.

Pitfall number three: You believe the only-partially-true statement that all one has to do to achieve publication is to write. A lot. But the sad truth is it takes much more than cranking out ream upon ream of verbiage to make one’s way into the semi-rarified strata of published writer. Unless writers have occasion to be catapulted into the focus of the national news media, they must learn the ropes of the publishing industry, subscribe to various writers’ magazines and e-zines (or better yet, start one), join critique groups, build an extensive platform, and basically eat, drink and sleep writing. The key is to never stop learning and revising yourself.

Pitfall number four: You fear time is against you. Late bloomers often fall victim to this downward spiral of thought. You grow more and more impatient as the days, weeks, and months go by and your folder of rejections thickens. But hang in there. The process will not be hurried. Google writers who were published after the age of fifty and revel in the knowledge that you’re not alone.

The good news is that hundreds of books have been written on the subject of writing. Everything from workbooks to software is available. Pick one and get started. You’re on the ground floor, so there’s nowhere to go but up. Good luck. And as Tiny Tim said, “God bless us every one.”

AnArmAndALeg72Olive Balla, author of suspense novel An Arm and a Leg, is mother of 3, grandmother to 13, great-grandmother of 4, a retired educator, and part-time professional musician. Having been everything from secretary at a used car dealership, a university student, and a high school Spanish teacher, Balla states her characters are, in part, amalgamations of people she’s met. Living with her husband Victor in the Albuquerque area, she spends her spare time in a small woodworking shop designing and building everything from breadboxes and wine racks, to a porch bench. Visit her website at: omballa.com.

This article was originally published in the January 2013 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.



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