I Don’t Sound Like That in Real Life: The Truth About Writing Like You Talk

Writing essays is, often, what my students find the most difficult in their assignments. There’s a great deal of crossover between them and the novelists, and we often take this for granted. They suffer from blank page syndrome, they get stuck and find it difficult to continue writing, or they’re unable to find the best possible finish to a sentence or paragraph. 

One student, someone I’ve worked with individually for three years now, was told, “Write like you talk.” He took that literally. This step helped them to get their thoughts on paper. They knew how to translate the structures in their head to the written word, but after doing so, this student found it difficult to self-edit. Then, when it came to teaching this student how to elevate their sentence structure, paragraph cohesion, they felt challenged by the idea of changing what they’d written. 

“That’s how I talk.” 

I don’t object to this advice, especially as a starting point. The “write like you talk” mindset is helpful when dealing with writer’s block. Writing can stop being a question of formality and complexity, and it can just be. 

One problem. This line of thinking assumes that every reader will converse in the same way. What sounds natural to some people might feel overly formal to others. More to the point, we assume that everyone speaks the same way and that they'll speak the same way to different people. 

Make your writing sound like you’re having a conversation with your reader. That's good advice. Many well-respected writers use this strategy, but natural conversation contains a lot of meta-discourse. By this, I mean that conversations aren’t always focused. They often move from topic to topic quickly, they digress, and verbal signals don’t often translate to the printed word. With this in mind, often, writers won’t genuinely write in the same way they talk. They focus. They curate. They pretend.

When you’re writing, you have little choice but to pretend. For my students, getting a good grade on their essay will mean that they’ll have to successfully prove the significance of something even when they don’t personally see that significance. Some of them will, but others will fake sincerity for the sake of their writing. Writers of blogs, published essays, and books will engage in a little pretend even when they’re passionate.

Are they being disingenuous? Am I?

No, but I don’t sound like this in real life. 

When I’m writing for this blog or giving feedback on a manuscript, I am writing out the information I want to convey to my audience, and I want my audience to understand and make use of that information. 

I am pretending a cadence that I don’t naturally have when I’m speaking. I’m writing this way so that, when I read everything back, there is a comfortable auditory flow. I am expecting readers to use their own inner voice, and if I’m writing this properly, the voice they hear will appear conversational.  

My student said, “That’s just how I talk.”

I said, “Yes, and what you did works great when you’re talking. I also see where you answered the question. When writing essays for school or for me, answering the question is half of what we want to do. The other half involves the way we’re answering the question, and that’s what we’ll be working on together.” 

While my student and I are doing what we can to meet expectations for school environments, others are experimenting with various degrees of formality and complexity. More simply, others are writing for different audiences.

“Write like you talk” is well-intentioned, but it often stands alone. To carry out this advice effectively: 1.) Use what you know about your audience to your advantage. Get a clear picture of what your desired audience talks about and how they talk about those things. 

2.) Try to adopt a tone that complements what your audience will respond to. Understanding your audience means understanding how their inner voice might sound. You can choose to write in a similar voice, but if that comes out sounding stilted, try responding to that voice in a way that would be accessible.

3.) Read what you’ve written out loud. While a tried and true self-editing tool, reading out loud is also a way to test your tone and the rhythm your piece naturally takes. During this step, you’ll have no choice but to be intentional about every word, and you’ll be able to catch something that “doesn’t sound right.”

4.) Highlight what “doesn’t sound right”, and identify why you feel that way before you fix it. As a writer, understanding your own habits better can only help. Understanding why wording might feel awkward or why it doesn’t convey the meaning that you intended is difficult but essential. Use the information you get from this step to create new habits and improve your practice. 

While a helpful first draft can come from literally writing like you talk, carrying out this information in a way that serves you takes practice. Don’t stop at your first draft. Your ideas deserve more. 

Do you need someone to talk through your writing with? Do you need help developing your ideas or revising your drafts? Let’s make that happen! Contact Purposeful Prose for a free consultation or to ask me questions for the Purposeful Prose Advice Column. I can’t wait to hear from you!