Raising My Voice

The voice of the first person perspective has entered the chat.

There’s a saying in the health industry (and a few others, I’m sure). If it isn’t written down, it didn’t happen. 

Be very, very sure that you document everything. But don’t write too much. And don’t write anything libellous. Observe critically, document objectively. Be sure you can prove anything you wrote down. And, oh, don’t write yourself into the narrative. If it’s not observable, it’s probably best not to write it down.

Stepping out of Health and into the freelance world was glorious and it was intense. Having the freedom to express myself, after such a long time between those necessarily strict boundaries, is wonderfully overwhelming. I can write whatever I want, in my own voice! If you’ve been following along for a while now, you’ll know that’s exactly what I have done. I’ve explored all sorts of topics. Like most writers, the act of writing is the way I understand my thoughts. Putting things on paper is how I examine my experiences and opinions and emotions. It’s cathartic, sure, but it’s the clarity that comes from the solidity of words that I most adore.

Writers have to include references to their portfolio of work in every submission we make. It makes sense, I can’t think of any reputable job where the employer doesn’t ask for proof of experience. How else are they going to believe you know how to do what you say you do? Setting out with my first submissions I discovered that, despite the countless words I’d written, none of it could be shared. So, in a desperate attempt to explain why I had nothing to show for myself, I wrote the following in my early author bio.

My ‘professional writing portfolio exists in countless reports and coaching summaries that will never see the light of day outside of the privacy code of the health industry; they contain acute observations and descriptions of how people interact with one another, how we all yearn to be heard and wish talking was easier, and how every single one of us strives and fails over and over again to communicate with one another.’

Every word of it is true.

My point today is not to share my resume, though, it’s to illustrate that the toolkit I carried for years desperately needed a glow up for this writing life. There were some important skills that stayed safely tucked into my case.

The exciting part for me. The new tools, still shiny, added to my kit.

• The ‘first person perspective’ has been invited into the chat. I’m allowed to say what I think! That wall has been the hardest one to break down; that was not just a habit, it was a deeply ingrained practice.
• Humour is allowed, nay, invited, to weave itself into the flow of words. That, and my tendency to sarcasm, have hung in the back of the wardrobe and were brought out only for casual acquaintances and social events. Now they’re everyday wear!
• I’m allowed to make up the story and write things that aren’t real and true! No references. No evidence base. Pure fiction. Ah, the joy of it may never fade.

And the most valuable thing to me? I’m my own gate-keeper. I get to decide if I share the words I collate, the story I make up, or the opinion I want to share. I’m where the buck stops – the good and the bad. No-one else gets to decide my style. My voice is audible. After a lifetime of making the words of others a priority, this hard-earned gift is one I treasure more than any. It’s the reason I decided to independently publish Hike Like A Flamingo. As a rule, I can take rejection but this one is different. A memoir about the last three years of hiking, it’s a personal story. This one is in my voice. This one I choose to share with the world. No-one else gets to reject that before it’s out there.

After jotting down all these thoughts I took myself off for a walk. The news of the world had crept into my brain and shattered any semblance of calm I’d enjoyed. Walking is the best way I know to deal with upsets like that. As I strode along the rail trail, grumbling to myself about people who think they can just make up what they like and call it the truth in capital letters, it struck me that this kind of freedom isn’t necessarily a good thing. Damn it, why does logic always get in the way of a good argument???

It’s all well and good to have a platform, and it’s intoxicating to be able to choose to send words out into the world. But, for the good of writer and readers alike, there does need to be a few checks and balances to keep perspective rational and society… safe.

As I turned the corner and headed back in the direction of home I mused over what that responsibility looks like for me as a freelance writer. It would be foolish of me to publish any words from an unmoderated vacuum. Sigh. Here’s what it comes down to for me.

• I engage others to check through my books – editors, proofreaders, beta readers. All give me feedback and opinion that It’s up to me to listen and respond to that, sure. I’m independently publishing, not recklessly publishing!
• Readers share feedback to my blogs and other social content through comments and messages. For me, that contact is invaluable as a way to gauge my messages – am I off-track, have I misunderstood something, have I been insensitive?

It’s not foolproof but it works. Despite my thrill at having control over sharing my words it seems that it’s not actually true. I’m the gatekeeper and I have set as many rules and hurdles to leap over as I did back when I was writing in patient files!