Two discussions I saw today in online communities I’m part of got me thinking: who is the audience for my blog? why do I write? What is the essence of my writing voice?
The first question is perhaps the easiest to answer. I don’t assume anyone reads my blog. I know that some people do, because they have told me so, and I am grateful to have people who are interested in the nonsense pouring out of my head, but I know even they don’t read every post. I sometimes share my posts with friends if I think what I had written may align with their interests, but I don’t expect them to become long-term subscribers.
If I allocate any mental bandwidth to thinking about who is reading my writing, I wouldn’t be able to write much at all. I write as an outlet, not as a means of accreting influence. Of course, this hasn’t always been the case; I have already documented the origins and evolution of my blog, with some reflections on how things have changed over 12 years.
One thing remains true: I write for myself.
There. That’s the second question answered, too.
I’ve been unable to pinpoint any defining characteristics for my writing voice, but reading older posts has helped me realise that it hasn’t changed much in tone over the years. Take the two posts linked above, for example. Written 9 years apart, but sounding remarkably similar. I can’t quite put my finger on the why, but you can see they were written by the same person.
I’ve never tried to emulate anyone’s writing style on purpose. I’m sure the things I’ve consumed over the years have influenced how I write, but more in a subconscious way. I’ve certainly stolen interesting turns of phrase from different writers and used them within my posts, but never in any way that compromises the overall conversational and occasionally self-deprecating quality I tend to convey in my writing. You would never see anything written using generative AI on this blog for the same reason.
In other words, I don’t make a conscious effort to sound like me, I just do.
There’s a certain freedom in accepting that you may just be writing to the void. Occasionally the void shouts back a supportive comment or two. On social media, I used to live for those comments. On social media, pretending to be someone you’re not is a great way to accrue more of those comments, little by little, until you don’t recognise your own voice anymore. Now that I’m not on any, sounding like me is the only choice.
