How to find your voice

As a ghostwriter, this has been one of my main challenges — and one of the questions I have been asked the most: How will you be able to match my tone? How will you be able to match my voice? How will you be able to make it sound like me?

The truth is that is the easy part, in most cases. But let’s start with the initial question: How do you find your own voice?

In our modern, digital-first world, most of us are used to writing, even those of us who do not do it for a living. We write a dozen emails a day and even more text messages. We write LinkedIn posts, and we write comments on Instagram posts. We write, whether we want to or not. And rarely do we question ourselves — is this the right voice?

Of course, when it comes to writing a book, a blog article, or any long-format text, things get a little bit more tricky. They should not sound like your half-drunk text message from last night, and they should not sound like the overly polite email you sent your boss or advisor earlier today. Still, it can come close and be inspired by those.

The easiest exercise? Sit down. Write. On one topic of your own choosing, something that you are (at least mildly) passionate about. Model planes. New York Bourbon. Modern leadership. Write without filters, without holding back; write as the words flow out of your brain through your fingers and your keyboard onto the screen. Write a page, write two pages — enough to see what it sounds like.

Congratulations, you just found your natural voice. But another question lingers: Is this your ideal voice? Assuming you are not writing for fun, and you are not just writing for one single reader (yourself), you might need to adjust your voice a little. Read what you just wrote: Is it something you would be willing to put on a bookshelf? If yes, congratulations: You are either a really good writer or delusional (come to think of it, I think many good writers, in fact, are delusional).

In most cases, first-time writers will decide: no. This does sound like me, but it does not reflect how I want to sound. Good, this is one step in the right direction. From here it gets easier: We need to find out, what our writing is supposed to achieve? Writing a political manifesto will require a different voice than writing an essay or writing an editorial piece. They have different tasks: To change minds? To inform? To entertain?

Based on this goal, ask yourself: How well does my initial write-up actually fit what I am trying to do? What do I need to tweak, to make it make sense.

That’s the real craft: editing not for grammar or for style points, but for actual fit. You might have started with a (natural) tone that feels like a rant at the bar or a note to your future self. Or you started with intense academic writing. Now, you’re shaping that into something that serves your purpose and, just as importantly, fits your actual target audience. The trick is to hold onto what feels honest in your writing without letting it get sloppy or self-indulgent: yes, it should still read like YOU, but like an improved and targeted version of you.

Ask yourself over and over again, who are you talking to? Is it a curious stranger, a group of experts, a potential client, or someone who desperately needs to know they’re not alone? When you’ve got that picture in your head, read your draft again. Read it out loud if you can stomach it, and I mean this: It can be challenging and mentally scarring to do this. Hearing your own writing in an empty room? Not always the best experience. Do it anyway. Notice the rough edges, the parts that sound forced or borrowed from someone else, or the places where you’re hiding behind empty filler. Cut what feels fake, amplify what feels true. This is where your “voice” starts to get its shape.

But (and this is where most people get stuck) you don’t have to pick just one voice and use it forever. You can shift between registers the way you change your shoes. The more proficient you become as a writer, the easier that gets. Most of us do it already: one tone for the group chat, another for your parents, and another for your ex. The key isn’t to invent a voice from scratch but to tune into the one that already lives in you and adjust the volume based on what the situation calls for.

So, if you want a lesson: stop overthinking it. Start by writing as yourself, not as the “writer version” of yourself. Then, with ruthless honesty, trim and sharpen until it fits the story you want to tell and the people you want to reach. That’s it. The magic isn’t in finding some mystical “real voice.” It’s in daring to sound like yourself — then deciding which parts of yourself belong on the page.

And if you’re still worried that you sound too much like everyone else? Good. It means you’re listening. Now go back and write it again, but this time, care a little less. That’s usually where your best lines are hiding. And to go back to the question I get asked all the time: Can you make it sound like me? Yes. I can. What helps me personally is listening to my client speak. The first five minutes of our conversation tell me most everything I need to know to emulate your voice.