Thoughts on Improving Style

I’ve been mulling over the concept of style recently. Those of us who write a lot develop a particular writing style. The way we construct sentences, the words we use, and the scenes we depict all feed into our particular style of writing. Recently, I’ve been thinking about what control (or lack thereof) we may have over our own styles. If I decided to drastically alter my sentence structure or word choice, would my style change overnight? Would my work become more enthralling just because I use choppier sentences, or would I only sound like myself in staccato?

Though it seems like I should be able to alter my sentence structure and word choice to change styles, it’s not so easy in practice. I write sentences the way that I do because my writing is intimately tied to the inner workings of my mind. My narration may not be an exact copy of my internal dialogue, but it’s pretty close. The same goes for my working vocabulary. I have little control over what words pop into my head and demand to be put on the page. I can search for new or half-remembered words in a thesaurus, but my very gravitation towards one word over another must be subjective. Another writer describing the same scene would use different words, in an order that my mind would never produce. So if style is so ingrained in us, how would we change it if we wanted to?

What could I change to make my style more regal, more thoughtful, or more relatable? These are the questions that keep me up nights, and I’ve rounded up at least a few thoughts on the subject. I’ve found that the best way to improve my style is to read authors who have a style I admire. When I read Tolkien, my work becomes more regal. Occasionally, I have written a passage in imitation of Tolkien, or Pratchett, or Rothfuss, in an attempt to understand what makes their styles have a certain quality. I’ve found that studying the works of writers I admire has always improved my own work. Sometimes, the lessons I learn from great writers distracts me from reading their books. Shortly after beginning War and Peace, I had to put the book down and rush to my computer because the way that Tolstoy wrote his characters was inspirational.

Initially, I was hesitant to even pick up a book during a productive writing phase because I didn’t want to compromise the style of my work. I didn’t want each new chapter sounding like it was written by a different author, and I didn’t want to risk plagiarizing someone’s work. Now that I have a few books under my belt, that’s not something I worry about. My style is stubborn; it’s difficult to change it for the better and I need all the help I can get.

Ultimately, I do think it’s important for a writer to develop her own, unique style, but I see that process as practically inevitable. It’s hard for me to imagine someone could write hundreds of thousands of words and still sound imitative. At some point, the writer’s real voice has to break through. But perhaps some books seem derivative not because the writer hasn’t dedicated enough time to developing style, but because the actual story being told is sub-par.

I seriously take issue with someone trying to write “the next Harry Potter”, or “Twilight, but with minor changes so I don’t get sued”. For one, I’m not sure I understand the ultimate goal of these projects. Do people write these imitations because they want the financial success of the original, or because they loved the original so much that they want to revisit the story through their own hands? I’m not sure what the ideology behind these writings are, but I think I know why they fall flat. Someone who is completely imitating J.K. Rowling’s stories cannot bring what Rowling brought to those stories. Rowling put herself into Harry Potter. It was her heart and mind that sculpted every inch of that world, and though I will be the first to say the series is imperfect, an imitation can never capture that which invigorated the original work.

As writers, we must tell our own stories with our own voice. I think it’s healthy to endeavor to be more like those we admire, but we should never hope to be just like them. We each have something to offer the world which it has never before seen: our perspective. Good art lets us see through the artist’s eyes. If I want to learn something from another author, it is only to better convey my own vision. I think that’s why I’m so concerned about style; I want to paint my vision as truly as possible, and that means using the right tools for the job.