Here’s my take on that article, shared directly with you:
The real power of a great speech isn’t just in how logical it is or if all its facts check out. It’s about its ability to connect with people, to move them, to just resonate. That resonance, that deep connection, is the hallmark of a truly distinct voice – a special mix of perspective, tone, and rhythm that transforms plain words into something you feel.
For those of us who write speeches, developing this voice isn’t a bonus; it’s absolutely essential. It separates the speeches that stick with you from the ones you immediately forget, the ones that truly persuade from those that just lecture. So, I’m going to share with you how I see the multi-layered process of building your own authentic voice, giving you some real strategies to move beyond generic writing and create speeches that genuinely speak to people.
The Foundation: Voice is Way More Than Just Style
Now, voice in speechwriting often gets confused with style. And while style is definitely part of it, voice goes so much deeper. It’s like the soul of your writing, the unique fingerprint of your intellect and emotions. It includes:
- Perspective: How you see the world, and how you view the specific issue you’re tackling.
- Tone: The emotional quality that comes through in your writing (like being authoritative, empathetic, humorous, or urgent).
- Rhythm and Cadence: The musicality of your prose, how sentences flow and build on each other.
- Word Choice and Diction: Your deliberate selection of words, whether they’re simple or more complex.
- Authenticity: The underlying truthfulness and genuine belief that permeates everything you write.
To genuinely build your voice, you first have to realize that it’s not a static thing. It’s constantly changing, shaped by your experiences, what you read, and your consistent practice. It’s not something you just discover overnight; it’s something you intentionally sculpt over time.
Breaking Down Your Influences: Your Building Blocks
Every single writer draws from a deep well of influences. Identifying and really dissecting these can give you incredible insight into what’s already starting to form your own voice. This isn’t about outright copying, but more about intelligently absorbing and adapting.
My “Analytical Listening Diet”: Hearing Beyond the Words
Think of it like a chef studying the techniques of master cooks. As speechwriters, we need to become really avid, analytical listeners. Don’t just passively hear speeches; take them apart.
What I do:
- Find Speeches I Admire: I go beyond just current political speeches. I look at historical addresses (like MLK Jr.’s “I Have a Dream,” or Churchill’s wartime speeches), commencement addresses, corporate keynotes, even powerful eulogies.
- Transcribe and Annotate: This step is absolutely critical for me. I pick a passage that really struck me, or even an entire speech. I transcribe it myself, either by hand or typing it out. As I’m doing this, I actively annotate:
- Emotional Arc: Where do the emotions shift? Where are the moments of vulnerability, triumph, or outrage?
- Syntax and Sentence Structure: Are the sentences short and punchy, or long and flowing? Are there recurring patterns like parallelism or anaphora?
- Figurative Language: I pinpoint metaphors, similes, rhetorical questions, analogies. How do they actually enhance the message?
- Pacing and Pauses: Where would the speaker naturally pause? How does that affect understanding and emotional impact?
- Call to Action: How is it framed? Is it direct, or subtly woven in?
- Audience Empathy: How does the speaker acknowledge and connect with what the audience cares about or hopes for?
- Specific Word Choices: Why that word, not a synonym? What specific nuance does it add?
- Look for Recurring Patterns: After I’ve analyzed several speeches that I truly admire, I start looking for commonalities. Do I consistently lean towards speakers with a particular rhythm, a certain blend of humor and seriousness, or a strong storytelling element? These patterns are major clues to my own emerging preferences.
For example: If I analyze a Barack Obama speech, I’ll often see a masterful use of parallelism, relatable stories, and a combination of aspirational language with practical solutions. A Steve Jobs product launch might stand out for its simplicity, almost evangelical conviction, and use of the “rule of three.” I pay attention to why these elements work and how they contribute to the speaker’s unique delivery and message.
Reading Widely, Writing Deeply: Expanding My Lexicon and Perspective
My vocabulary, my understanding of people, and my ability to craft compelling stories are all nurtured by reading a lot of different things.
What I do:
- Read Beyond My Niche: If I mainly write corporate speeches, I’ll dive into literary fiction, poetry, history, philosophy, or even science non-fiction. These broader horizons really enrich my understanding of language, how stories are structured, human motivations, and even complex ideas.
- Keep a “Word Bank” and “Idea Jar”:
- Word Bank: As I read, I jot down powerful verbs, vivid adjectives, clever phrases, or specific linguistic constructions that really resonate with me. And I don’t just list them; I write a sentence or two explaining why they struck me.
- Idea Jar: I write down interesting observations, dilemmas, universal truths, or compelling statistics I come across. These can spark analogies, anecdotes, or core arguments for future speeches.
- Practice Active Reading: I don’t just passively consume. I ask questions of the text, underline passages that move me, challenge assumptions, and think about alternative ways the author could have conveyed their message.
For example: Reading a great historical non-fiction book might expose me to different rhetorical strategies used in the past, or give me a rich source of historical analogies. Poetry, especially, really pushes me to appreciate conciseness and the power of individual words.
My Internal Landscape: Unearthing My Authentic Self
Your voice is intrinsically linked to who you are. Trying to suppress your genuine perspective or simply mimicking others will absolutely stifle your authenticity.
Self-Reflection and Core Beliefs: What Do I Truly Stand For?
Before I can effectively convey someone else’s message, I need to understand my own filters, my biases, and my deeply held convictions. My personal philosophy subtly, yet powerfully, shapes how I interpret and express messages.
What I do:
- Journal with Prompts: I dedicate time to free-form journaling. I use prompts like:
- What issues make me passionate, angry, or hopeful?
- What values do I hold most dear (like integrity, innovation, empathy, courage)?
- What kind of impact do I want my words to have?
- What three words best describe the kind of communicator I aspire to be?
- What themes or recurring ideas pop up in my personal conversations or thoughts?
- Identify My “Rhetorical Habits”: Am I typically sarcastic, earnestly optimistic, analytical, or a natural storyteller? While I’ll adapt for clients, understanding my natural inclination is my starting point. Do I tend to use specific types of humor, or certain types of logical arguments?
- Embrace My Unique Perspective: I don’t try to sanitize my worldview to fit into some perceived norm. The quirks, the specific lens through which I see the world – these are the very ingredients of a distinct voice.
For example: If I genuinely believe in radical transparency, that belief might subtly inform my word choice in a corporate speech about accountability, leading to me favoring directness over euphemism. If I have a dry wit, that might naturally infuse a touch of humor into my writing, even if the primary tone is serious.
Understanding My Relationship with Language: My Inner Editor and Poet
Every writer has an innate relationship with language – how they feel it, hear it, and manipulate it.
What I do:
- Experiment with Different Sentence Structures: I don’t always default to subject-verb-object. I try starting with a participial phrase, using inversion, or employing rhetorical questions. I play with sentence length – short, punchy declarative sentences alongside longer, more complex ones.
- Read My Work Aloud (Always!): This is non-negotiable for me. My ear catches awkward phrasing, repetitive rhythms, and clunky transitions that my eyes just miss. When I hear it, I start to internalize the sound of effective speech.
- Record Myself Delivering My Work: Even if it’s just with my phone. I listen back. Does it sound like me? Does it flow naturally? Are there places I stumble over my own words? This really highlights where my writing isn’t aligned with a natural speaking cadence.
For example: I might discover I naturally favor anaphora (repetition at the beginning of clauses) because I enjoy the build-up of rhythm, or that I prefer shorter, more direct sentences for maximum impact. On the other hand, I might find my sentences are too long and convoluted, making them hard to deliver orally.
The Art of Adaptation: Voice within Parameters
While my unique voice is crucial, speechwriting is truly an art of adaptation. I’m writing for a specific speaker, for a specific audience, on a specific occasion. My voice has to serve these parameters, not overpower them.
Speaker Alignment: Channeling, Not Mimicking
The ultimate challenge in speechwriting is making the words sound completely authentic to the speaker, all while retaining the underlying quality of my own craftsmanship.
What I do:
- Deep Dive into the Speaker’s Persona:
- Listen to Their Past Speeches/Conversations: How do they phrase things? What’s their natural cadence? Do they use specific jargon or catchphrases?
- Understand Their “Why”: What are their core motivations, their passions, their irritations? A speech written for someone who genuinely cares about environmental sustainability will sound different from one written for someone for whom it’s just a political convenience.
- Analyze Their Personality: Are they naturally witty, earnest, blunt, formal, informal? How do they typically express emotion?
- Interview Them Extensively: I don’t just get bullet points. I ask open-ended questions. I let them tell stories. The anecdotes they share and the language they use in conversation are vital raw material.
- Draft in the Speaker’s “Voice”: As I write, I imagine the speaker delivering each sentence. Would they say it that way? Would it sound natural coming from their mouth? If not, I rework it.
- First-Person Immersion: Sometimes, it helps me to write practice passages as if I were the speaker, adopting their typical word choice and sentence rhythm. This pre-writing exercise helps me get into their headspace.
For example: If my speaker is known for their folksy charm and tendency to use analogies, I’ll definitely incorporate those elements. If they are direct and analytical, my writing will reflect that, perhaps leaning into data and logical progression. My voice then operates within that framework, adding depth, elegance, or punch, but always serving the speaker’s authenticity.
Audience Awareness: My Invisible Conversant
A speech is a conversation, even if it’s one-sided. To be effective, it has to resonate with the listeners.
What I do:
- Profile My Audience: Who are they? (Demographics, professions, interests, educational background). What do they already know about the topic? What are their likely concerns, hopes, fears, or objections regarding the message?
- Tailor Language and References: I avoid jargon if I’m talking to a general audience. I use analogies they’ll understand. I refer to shared experiences or cultural touchstones that will specifically resonate with them.
- Anticipate and Address Objections: I acknowledge counter-arguments or skepticism directly. This builds trust and makes the speaker seem more credible and empathetic.
For example: A speech for tech entrepreneurs might fully embrace innovation and disruption, using industry-specific terms. The exact same core message delivered to a community town hall might focus on job creation and local impact, using simpler language and relatable examples from daily life. My voice, in this context, understands how to adapt the message without watering it down.
Occasion and Purpose: The Container for My Message
The context of the speech dictates a lot about its tone and structure.
What I do:
- Define the Speech’s Core Purpose: Is it to inform, persuade, entertain, commemorate, inspire, or call to action? This dictates the primary rhetorical strategies I employ.
- Understand the Setting and Time Constraints: Is it a formal gala, a casual lunch, a high-stakes debate? How much time is allotted? This profoundly affects sentence length, complexity, and overall message density.
- Research the Historical Context: For commemorative speeches, understanding the historical significance of the event or person is absolutely paramount.
For example: A eulogy demands a tone of respect, remembrance, and comfort, often including stories that highlight the deceased’s character. A political stump speech demands brevity, strong calls to action, and emotionally resonant language. My unique voice will subtly color these parameters – maybe my eulogies are particularly poetic, or my political speeches are known for their unexpected humor.
The Craft of Refinement: Polishing My Signature
Developing my voice isn’t just about the big picture; it’s about the meticulous attention to detail that sets truly exceptional writing apart.
Imagery and Figurative Language: Painting Pictures with Words
A distinct voice often shows up in the unique way a writer uses language to create vivid mental images and connect abstract ideas to tangible experiences.
What I do:
- Embrace Metaphor and Analogy: I don’t just state facts; I interpret them through relatable comparisons. I ask myself: “What is this like?” or “What familiar experience can illustrate this concept?”
- Use Sensory Details: I work to engage the audience’s senses (sight, sound, smell, touch, taste). Instead of “the economy improved,” I might try “the engine of our economy began to hum again, a sound many hadn’t heard in years.”
- Vary My Figurative Language: I don’t rely solely on similes. I explore personification, hyperbole (used carefully), understatement, and rhetorical questions. A diverse arsenal keeps my writing fresh and engaging.
- Avoid Clichés: Overused phrases just deaden my voice. If I find myself reaching for a cliché, I challenge myself to invent a fresh, original way to express the same idea.
For example: Instead of saying “Our company needs to adapt,” someone with a distinct voice might write: “We stand at a crossroads, where the winds of change are not merely blowing, but howling through the ancient timbers of our structure. To stand still is to be felled; we must learn to bend, to dance with the storm, or risk being swept away.” This uses active verbs, powerful imagery, and a sense of urgency.
Rhythm and Cadence: The Music of Persuasion
Speech is inherently musical. My voice manifests in the deliberate orchestration of sounds and pauses to create impact.
What I do:
- Vary Sentence Length: A mix of short, punchy sentences (for emphasis and clarity) and longer, more complex sentences (for developing ideas and building momentum) keeps the audience engaged.
- Employ Parallelism and Anaphora: Repetition of grammatical structures or initial words/phrases creates a powerful, memorable rhythm. “We will not falter. We will not fail. We will prevail.” The inherent rhythm is captivating.
- Strategic Use of Alliteration and Assonance: Subtle use of similar consonant or vowel sounds can add a pleasing musicality and emphasize key words. “Proud to pave the path to prosperity.”
- Read and Re-Read Aloud: This can’t be stressed enough. My ears are the ultimate judges of how my words sound when spoken. I adjust words, restructure sentences, or add/remove punctuation to control the flow.
For example: Compare “We need to work hard to achieve our goals” with “We must toil with tenacity, push with purpose, and rise with resolve.” The latter, while more ornate, shows a deliberate choice of alliteration and strong verbs to create a more impactful and rhythmic statement. My voice might lean towards this kind of poeticism, or it might favor very clean, direct prose that still has a clear, almost staccato rhythm.
The Power of Conciseness and Specificity: Saying More with Less
A refined voice is often one that is economical with words, yet rich in meaning. Fluff just obscures; specificity illuminates.
What I do:
- Ruthless Editing: I cut every unnecessary word, phrase, or sentence. If a word doesn’t add meaning, I remove it. If a sentence can be expressed more concisely, I rephrase it.
- Prefer Strong Verbs to Weak Ones (and Adverbs): Instead of “He ran very quickly,” I try “He sprinted.” Instead of “She spoke in a loud way,” I try “She shouted.”
- Choose Specific Nouns: “Vehicle” is less impactful than “truck,” “sports car,” or “bicycle.” “Structure” is less evocative than “skyscraper,” “cottage,” or “bridge.”
- Embrace the Active Voice: Generally, active voice is more direct, engaging, and personal than passive voice. “We made a mistake” is stronger than “A mistake was made.”
For example: Instead of “In the current economic climate, it is important to address the challenges that face our industry,” a voice with a commitment to conciseness might write: “Our industry faces unprecedented headwinds.” This is direct, active, and creates a more immediate impact.
The Feedback Loop: Continuous Evolution
Developing my voice isn’t a linear process; it’s an iterative one that demands constant learning and critical self-evaluation.
Soliciting and Digesting Feedback: My External Mirror
Blind spots are inevitable. Objective feedback is absolutely essential for growth.
What I do:
- Seek Diverse Feedback: I don’t just ask friends or family. I find other writers, editors, or even public speaking coaches.
- Ask Targeted Questions: Instead of just “What do you think?” I ask:
- “Does this sound like [Speaker’s Name]?”
- “What emotional tone does this section convey?”
- “Where did your attention wander?”
- “Is the call to action clear and compelling?”
- “Does this passage resonate with you emotionally?”
- “Are there any instances where the language feels generic or uninspired?”
- Be Open, Not Defensive: I listen without interrupting. I consider all feedback, even if I don’t agree with every single point. The goal is to understand how my words are received.
- Separate the Message from the Delivery: Sometimes feedback on my “voice” is actually feedback on the speaker’s delivery or the strength of the core idea. I’ve learned to filter that out.
For example: A colleague might say, “This section feels a bit too formal for the speaker’s typical style.” This specific feedback allows me to refine my word choice and sentence structure in that particular section, bringing it more in line with the speaker’s authentic sound, and thus strengthening my adaptable voice.
Self-Critique and Revision: My Internal Refiner
The most crucial feedback loop is the one I create within myself.
What I do:
- Distance Myself: After a drafting session, I step away from the work. Even an hour’s break can provide fresh eyes. Overnight is ideal.
- Read with a Critical Eye and Ear: When I return, I read as if I am the audience, or even a harsh critic.
- Where do I lose interest?
- Are there repetitive words or phrases?
- Is the message crystal clear?
- Does it feel right in my gut?
- Does this sound authentically like my work, filtered through the speaker’s persona?
- Maintain a “Lessons Learned” Journal: After each speech project, I retrospectively analyze:
- What went well?
- What did I struggle with?
- What new rhetorical techniques did I try?
- How did the speaker’s delivery impact the words I wrote?
- What elements of my “voice” are consistently emerging?
For example: I might notice, in my self-critique, that I tend to overuse rhetorical questions. This insight allows me to consciously reduce their frequency in future drafts, allowing other elements of my voice to shine through. Or, conversely, I might recognize that my unique voice often uses subtle humor to disarm audiences, and I decide to lean into that strength more consciously.
Conclusion: The Ongoing Journey of Voice
Developing my voice as a speechwriter is a continuous, deeply personal journey. It’s not about finding a static set of rules, but about cultivating a living, breathing entity that evolves with every word I write, every speech I hear, and every experience I absorb. My voice is my ultimate rhetorical asset – the invisible hand that guides the audience, the resonant chord that stirs their emotions, and the indelible mark that separates my work from everything else. By truly committing to self-examination, purposeful practice, and an insatiable curiosity for language and human connection, I know I won’t just discover my style – I will forge a voice that speaks truths, inspires action, and leaves an enduring echo long after the final words are uttered.