How I Preserve Your Voice in Every Word I Write
One of the most important parts of what I do isn’t writing. It’s listening.
Not the listening where you’re just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you lean in and notice everything: the rhythm of someone’s speech, their pauses, their humor, the way their voice softens when they talk about something they love.
Your authentic voice lives in those small, almost invisible details. And that’s what I protect when I write your story.
Listening Between the Lines
When we first meet, I’m paying attention to far more than words.
I’m hearing cadence, emotion, phrasing, even the words you repeat when you’re trying to explain something that really matters.
My degree in Linguistics (oh so long ago) has definitely helped me in this regard. Every person has a linguistic fingerprint, a pattern and texture to how they speak.
I listen for that, then capture it on paper so your story sounds like you, not like a writer who swooped in and edited all the humanity out of it.
Translating Without Losing Truth
Writing someone else’s story is part art, part empathy, and a little bit of alchemy. 🪄
Because spoken language is messy. We stop mid-sentence, change directions, and start over. My job is to translate that natural rhythm into writing that flows… but still sounds like you.
It’s not about polishing you into perfection; it’s about preserving your essence while making sure your meaning shines through.
I sometimes think of it like restoring an old photo: you can gently clean it up so the details are clearer, but the cracks, the grain, the texture, are what make it beautiful.
Collaboration Is the Secret Ingredient
This isn’t a process I do to you. It’s something we create together.
You’ll read drafts, give feedback, add memories, and adjust tone. Every revision brings the story closer to that sweet spot where you recognize yourself completely.
When clients say, “It sounds just like me,” I know we’ve hit upon that perfect blend of authenticity and artistry.
Why It Matters
When your family reads your story one day, I want them to hear you.
To hear your laughter in the lines. To feel your warmth, your wit, your insight.
Because a memoir isn’t meant to sound “written.” It’s meant to sound real.
That’s the legacy I help create: a voice that lingers long after the last page.
The Intangibles
At the end of the day, it’s not just about emotion; it’s about those intangible things that make your voice unmistakably yours. Your quirky phrases, your humor, your cadence, your heart.
That’s what I listen for. That’s what I protect.
And that’s what turns your memories into something lasting.