Voices Alive

Janay

So... imagine this. The wind is howling, the trees are swaying like wild dancers under a stormy sky, and in the middle of it all stands Clara, gripping a tattered journal as if it’s her lifeline. She whispers—

Eric Marquette

Whoa, hold on. You’re pulling me in already, Janay. Go on.

Janay

"I will find you," she said softly, her voice steady despite the chaos around her, "and when I do, the truth will finally come to light."

Eric Marquette

Chills. Honestly, you’ve got a way of, like, weaving not just words but... emotion into your reading. How do you even do that?

Janay

It’s funny, because when I—I think about my writing, it’s all about the way emotion plays out in my head, like a little movie. And reading it aloud, well, it’s—it’s like painting that movie for someone else, you know?

Eric Marquette

Absolutely. And honestly, it taps right into this massive tradition of oral storytelling. I mean, before we had books, we had people sharing stories out loud—tales, legends, even the early epics were meant to be heard, not read.

Janay

Right, it’s such a universal thing, isn’t it? Like, around a fire, or even just sitting with your kids—I can totally picture that with my own. It’s so personal.

Eric Marquette

Exactly. And more than that, I think the voice adds this layer of... I guess intimacy? Because voices carry nuances—like pauses, tone shifts—that text alone never could. When you read a story aloud, it’s—

Janay

It’s alive?

Eric Marquette

Exactly. Alive. And that connection between the storyteller and the audience is transformative. It changes how we process the story because we’re not just decoding words—we’re feeling them.

Janay

That’s so true! I mean, when I read this passage out loud, I feel like Clara isn’t just a character. She—it’s like she’s sharing her secret with the listener directly, not through me.

Eric Marquette

That’s the magic of it, isn’t it? It’s why I always say fiction is, at its core, a performance. And the funny thing is, when you read out loud, it changes how you experience your own story. Like, I’m curious, do you think it helps you see parts of your writing differently?

Janay

Oh, 100 percent. When I—I hear it aloud, sometimes I catch things I wouldn’t on the page—moments where the rhythm is off or where the dialogue feels too stiff. It’s like the voice brings out the flaws so you can fix them.

Eric Marquette

That’s fascinating. And it makes me wonder if audiences sometimes pick up on those same vibes we as writers or storytellers do—

Janay

Or if it’s just us being overly critical?

Eric Marquette

Exactly, exactly. Either way, it’s such a unique perspective, seeing—or hearing—your story come to life.

Eric Marquette

It’s funny you say that, because it got me thinking—stories do have this special way of coming alive, even in the most unexpected moments. Like, just the other day on my morning commute, there’s this guy—probably in his sixties—just standing in the middle of the carriage. He wasn’t talking to anyone, just standing there, holding this bouquet of flowers that, honestly, looked way too vibrant for a typical Monday morning.

Janay

Wait, what? A bouquet on the subway? That’s—

Eric Marquette

Right? Totally out of place. So, naturally, I—I take the headphones out just to hear if anything’s happening. And out of nowhere, he hands it to this woman sitting near the doors. No words. Just... hands it to her, nods, and then hops off the train without a second glance.

Janay

Seriously? That’s like something straight out of a movie. I mean, was she—in shock, or did she say anything?

Eric Marquette

Completely stunned. She just—sat there holding the flowers, looking around like she was trying to figure out if someone was filming a prank or something. It was such a small moment, but it was oddly captivating, you know? Like, I kept thinking about it the entire day. Why her? Why the flowers? And that’s the beauty of it—these everyday events can feel like magic if you stop to notice.

Janay

That reminds me of when I started telling bedtime stories to my kids. It wasn’t anything planned, just... stuff I’d make up on the spot to get them to calm down at night.

Eric Marquette

Made-up stories? Let me guess—they loved them.

Janay

Oh, absolutely. But what surprised me was how it—kind of transformed my writing. Like, when you’re telling a story to kids, you’ve gotta keep their attention, make their imaginations run wild—and that skill started sneaking into how I approached my books. Especially dialogue. It’s funny, my kids are the toughest critics I’ve ever had.

Eric Marquette

I can imagine. Children have this unfiltered honesty—if they’re bored, they’ll make it known, no holds barred. But that’s probably what makes them such great, uh, testers, right?

Janay

Exactly. Like, sometimes, I’d even catch them giggling or predicting what’s gonna happen next. And those moments taught me, storytelling works best when it feels alive, like we talked about earlier. You’re creating a shared experience, even if it’s brief.

Eric Marquette

And the interesting bit is, whether it’s a simple commute or bedtime stories, these everyday moments—weave themselves into our narratives. It’s like they—the stories, I mean—have a life of their own.

Janay

And that’s exactly it—bringing those moments alive. When I think about finding my storytelling voice, it often starts with how the characters sound in my head. Like, is their tone soft, or sharp? Do they talk fast, or slow? I mean, one of my characters from a recent story had this gritty, staccato way of speaking that made her feel so vivid when I read her dialogue out loud.

Eric Marquette

Hmm, that sounds challenging but rewarding. I imagine nailing those distinctions must take some serious practice. Any tips for the listeners who might want to try?

Janay

Oh, absolutely. I think of it this way: read a passage, and experiment with the pitch and rhythm as if you’re casting the character in a play. Like, how would someone scolding a child sound different from someone confessing love? Letting your voice match the emotion is key.

Eric Marquette

Right, that emotional alignment. Which fits perfectly into this little exercise I wanted to share. Listeners, here’s a quick one: grab a favorite book, read just two lines, but with the intention of creating two unique voices. Maybe one’s upbeat and cheerful, the other’s suspicious or wary. Try it—you’ll learn a lot about how tone shapes storytelling.

Janay

Ooh, I love that idea. It’s like a crash course in character building!

Eric Marquette

Exactly. And, honestly, I think about storytellers like LeVar Burton. His ‘Reading Rainbow’ work, and now his podcast, are masterclasses in engaging delivery. I mean, his voice isn’t just calm—it’s layered. Like every single word is wrapped in intention.

Janay

Yes! He’s an incredible example. He doesn’t just read a story; he embodies it. And that sets the bar for all of us who want to bring stories to life. It’s inspiring, you know?

Eric Marquette

It really is. And if there’s one takeaway from all this, it’s that storytelling is a performance—one where your voice is an instrument, capable of bringing depth and vibrancy. Experiment with it, adapt it, but most importantly, make it yours.

Janay

Exactly. It’s personal. And, honestly, it’s a journey, too. You grow into your storytelling voice the more you practice and explore. So, to anyone listening—don’t be afraid to try, to fail, and to surprise yourself along the way.

Eric Marquette

I think that’s the perfect note to leave our audience on for today. Finding your voice isn’t just about words or tone; it’s about connecting, sharing, and, well—just being real. And on that note, we’ll catch you next time on ‘Voices Alive.’

Janay

Yeah, have fun experimenting with your voice. We’ll see you all soon. Take care!