One of the trickiest things about creative writing is assuring that each character has a voice separate and distinct from others. My writing style, in Boyhood Adventures, makes me the omniscient story-teller, sharing a story about three eight-year-old boys seeking adventure in Texarkana, Arkansas, in 1953. Writing dialog between the three boys is a bit like walking through a swamp littered with patches of quicksand: one misstep, and I’m sunk up to my ears. With all three boys the same age, the challenge is amplified.
Such is the nature of my writing style. I chose it. I have to live with it. And I have to make my character voices work for my readers. It’s one thing to write, “he said – she said.” But if “he” and “she” use precisely the same grammar, exactly the same wordage, or all-too-similar clichés, well … that’s asking my reader to work a little too hard to accept the characters as being distinct individuals.