Back in the ‘80s, Bob Geldof put together a British supergroup of music stars, called it Band Aid, and recorded the hit charity single “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”
An American supergroup called USA for Africa followed with their fundraising hit, “We Are the World.”
Then it was Canada’s turn. The Canuck charity supergroup was called Northern Lights, and the song was “Tears Are Not Enough.”
I loved all three of them, but as a teenager growing up in Canada at the time, Northern Lights was special. It had all my faves.
I remember watching a documentary on the making of “Tears Are Not Enough.” The director asked both Neil Young and Joni Mitchell to enunciate more, hit cleaner notes, sound less nasally, or whatever the feedback was.
Both of them, separately, answered along the lines of “That’s my style, man.”
And they both did it their way.
That’s me when someone tells me to trim words from my work for the sake of trimming words. Better writing is never about just trimming words — unless you’re writing to a limited character count and you don’t have any more words to spare.
But otherwise, that’s my style, man.
Checking in with the audience, giving metaphors and analogies, and the “wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more, say no more” asides are part of my writing voice.
When third-party advice about craft conflicts with an artist’s identity, you get a mess.
When Neil Young or Joni Mitchell sand the edge off their style, you don’t get better singing. You get a technically smoother voice that’s bland, generic, and could belong to anyone.
When they keep their edge, you get something unmistakably unique.
Good artists don’t neutralize themselves because somebody else doesn’t like their creative spark.
Good writers don’t give up cadence and connection just because someone else thinks it’s clutter.
I’m not trying to be the cleanest voice in the room. I’d rather be the one someone could pick out blindfolded after three paragraphs.
Now, I should clarify something here.
If you’re writing for a client, you need to write to their brand voice — even if it’s not 100% “you”. When you’re ghostwriting for someone else, you need to write in their voice — which is hopefully nowhere near “you.”
But when it’s bylined, you need to respect your own writer’s voice.
In other words, know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em (thanks, Kenny Rogers — he was in USA For Africa, BTW).
That’s Context Before Content.
And once you know the context, it’s uniqueness before uniformity.
If you’ve never seen “Tears Are Not Enough” (or haven’t seen it in 40 years), this is a treat:
Yes, all those artists are Canadian.
And more importantly…
• You can hear Neil Young sound like Neil Young
• You can hear Joni Mitchell sound like Joni Mitchell
• You can hear that neither of them blends into the woodwork, even when part of a massive ensemble
But wait, there’s more.
Bryan Adams sings like Bryan Adams, Corey Hart sings like Corey Hart, my boy Mark Holmes from Platinum Blonde sings like Mark Holmes, and Mike Reno from Loverboy sings like Mike Reno.
Gordon Lightfoot sounds unmistakably like Gordon Lightfoot within half a breath.
Geddy Lee… well, nobody on earth mistakes that voice for anyone else’s.
It’s a major song for an important cause with a lot of participants.
And yet each of them owns their line instead of conforming or blending in.
That’s the lesson writers often miss when they hear “be concise,” “tighten it up,” or “make it cleaner” as a blanket rule.
The real rules are more nuanced.
• For client work, serve the brand voice
• For bylined work, protect your own voice
• For ensemble moments, stay visible and stand out
Don’t vanish into the background just to sound polite.
Knowing your Writing Personality Type can often help you do this.
When you’re ready for more, you can find it in the full Writing Personality UnVALEd Playbook.
Write on,
Heather Vale
Helping you UnVALE your superpowers and navigate the Writerverse
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