Starting a writing career at my age was never going to be an easy task. It’s not like it’s something that has been a burning passion since I was conceived. With no experience and nothing tangible to fall back on I had to start from square one.
It became quite obvious that in order to be a good writer I needed my own voice. This is what I have been told innumerable times in researching the topic.
“Find your writing voice” jumped out at me from everywhere. I swear I read it on a cooking recipe I looked up online. It made perfect sense; you have to feel comfortable with what you are writing and no better way than having your own personal voice.
I got stuck on ‘finding’ your voice. I interpreted that to mean that somewhere in life’s journey I lost it and now I need to find it. The task at hand was no small feat. You’re talking about rummaging around over 60 years of living to try to find a lost voice that I didn’t even know I possessed.
I had to start somewhere and no better time than now and no better place than right here. I went to the living room and called out my two teenage daughters and my wife to help me in this mystery.
I have a problem I would like some help on. Apparently I have lost my writing voice and I don’t know where it is and I need your help in finding it. I thought we could start in the house and work our…..
Door one – Slam
Door two – Slam
“Honey, maybe you could call city’s lost and found and check to see if your voice is there.”
“Good idea” I said but before I had a chance to thank her…
Door three – Slam
There was no listing for the cities lost and found so I called information. When I explained what I was looking for the operator laughed so hard I thought she was going to be sick. She informed me there was no such thing as a city lost and found but if someone stole my voice I could call the local police as they have all recovered stolen property in a secure location. She laughed again said good luck and hung up.
It took some time to get hold of the police stolen property warehouse and I was told that all items not recovered by their lawful owners were going to auction very soon. I then asked if there were any stolen writing voices recovered. I think we had a bad line because it went dead.
It was time to roll up my sleeves and get dirty. I looked in every box and storage container, every nook and cranny in the house. There was nothing even remotely resembling even a voice box let alone a misplaced writing voice. At least we were looking for a specific voice and not just any old run of the mill voice.
I was getting into it now so I decided I would do a mental check of all voices I have used since the beginning of birth. I found a quiet spot and replayed in my head every single voice I could think of that I had ever used.
Nothing jumped out at me but I did hear some that I didn’t remember and some I had to delete from my memory bank right away.
A weaker man might have given up at this point but I was just getting started. It was time to employ some outside help. Looking in the Yellow Pages I found what I was looking for, a private investigator.
When Mr Dugan answered the phone and listened to my problem he told me I would probably get better service if I called the local mental health care unit or find a good psychiatrist.
He hung up when I asked if he had a number. I am not sure how a psychiatrist could help but maybe I misunderstood, he could have meant psychic. I’ll put that on my list.
Eventually finding the listing in the white pages for the mental health care unit at the local hospital they said they could get me an appointment but it was in two months’ time. I thanked them for being so kind but I said that the problem needed to be solved sooner rather than later and thanked them anyway.
The time came when I knew I had to pull out the big guns. I didn’t want to have to do this unless absolutely necessary. I was getting desperate and desperate times calls for desperate measures.
I decided to call my ex-wife. If anyone could find a lost voice it was her and thankfully we were still on good terms.
“Hi, it’s Sammy”
Ex – I know who it is, what do you want
Me – I need your help (pause)
Ex – Ok are you going to tell me what it is you need help on or am I to guess and have to do all the work?
Me – Good point. I somehow over the course of my life misplaced my writing voice and I am wondering if you knew where it was.
Ex – It’s gone.
Me – Gone? What do you mean?
Ex – I sold it.
Me – Really? How much did you get for it?
Ex – Moron
Had I run out of options? Would I ever find the voice I didn’t know went missing? There is a happy ending to this saga of the missing voice.
I didn’t find it because it was always with me. I had it all the time. I just misplaced It. The one place I didn’t look, deep inside of me.
Once I recognized it I was able to listen to it and when I listened to it I knew exactly what to do with it.
Let me tell you, my voice and me, we are having a great time.
I will never misplace it again. I got a GPS hooked on it now.
Where is your voice and where did you find yours?