Writing The Middle Grade Voice by Aida Salazar

When writing my most recent dual POV verse novel, Stream, I spent a lot of time thinking about and working on voice. The general definition for voice is somewhat elusive and the answer given really depends on who is asked. Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Lux (Poet’s Companion) say “voice is as individual as a fingerprint,” where Mildred P. Taylor (Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry) says “voice is the way a character talks, how they express themselves.” About nine years ago, at the beginning of my publishing career, I was fortunate to attend a workshop on voice led by the great Linda Sue Park, who defined it in the clearest and most useful way for me. She said voice is made up of three things – word choice, rhythm, and punctuation. Linda said her ideas came about because of her study of poetry. This definition was illuminating to me and has served me as a verse novelist in much of my work ever since. 

Let me expand . . .

With word choice or diction, each character uses words based on a number of factors about who they are - their education level, region they’re from, race, age, class, etc. This said, the kinds of words one character will use are unique to them and different from the words another might use. 

With rhythm, we ask ourselves, does the character stammer? Do they speak in short spurts or long soliloquys? Do they rap or semi-sing when they speak? Do they trip over their words, space out, or are they speaking with lightning quickness? All of this effects their rhythm. 

With regard to punctuation, if a character is shouting, we may use many exclamation marks; if they speak in lists, we might use commas or line breaks. Do they tend to interrupt themselves? Em dashes are great for conveying that. Are their sentences stern and short? Do they end with a hard period, or are semicolons necessary to connect multiple thoughts? All of these choices inform their voice as well. 

With children’s literature in general, we often judge the best writing by those who can successfully manage to keep the adult voice and perspective away from the page, especially when writing first-person narratives. This is certainly the most important element to be conscientious of when writing kidlit. Now, with middle grade, we are entering that tight rope space where characters are leaving their childhood behind and entering into adolescence which is scary, wonderous, empowering, and confusing all at once. This has its own set of overarching conditions which are common to this age group. Then, when thinking of the multiple experiences and quirks that create the identities of each of our characters, the possibilities expand. As we define who they are through the writing, we can harness these elements to create separate and distinct voices. 

In all my books, I want to be sure each character honors the space and time in which they exist and also speak to who they are as people. In The Moon Within, Celi is a mixed-race girl from Oakland in love with the moon. She uses lyrical language with contemplative and poetic descriptions of events. Her rhythm is smooth and often uses alliteration; she waxes poetic in long soliloquys and doesn’t punctuate very much between her lines. Betita in Land of the Cranes is an undocumented child in a detention center, a fourth grader who speaks in short innocent sentences and with a sense of confusion and trauma. Her words are often enveloped in white space. I used the white space (an effect to create rhythm in poetry) to let the reader breathe after difficult scenes. Because Betita is in fourth grade, I worked diligently to make sure none of her words were above a fourth-grade vocabulary. Elio in Ultraviolet is a charismatic and witty boy who falls in love for the first time and sees everything in ultraviolet colors. His diction is woven with gen alpha/gen z references and filled with light imagery. His rhythm is short and snappy and musical because he is also a musician. Tailoring language, rhythm, and punctuation to each character—whether they are main characters or supporting characters—becomes easier when I understand who they are. 

I do have a secret weapon when it comes to voice. I am lucky to be the mother of some really eloquent and dynamic children whom I homeschooled and spent countless hours with, listening to them speak to each other and their peers. Being a really good eavesdropper was a direct line into the way kids speak. I also interviewed my kids and their friends about various issues, and how a tween or teen would say certain things. In fact, with The Moon Within, there is a text exchange between two of the characters, and I gave my then eleven-year-old daughter a red pen and asked her to correct anything she felt was not authentic to how kids her age spelled or punctuated via text. Her corrections made the voices so clear and authentic. For Ultraviolet, my son was critical in sharing in a humorous way his experience of entering adolescence and the vulnerable feelings of first heartbreak that inspired the story. I asked for his consent to adapt these experiences, which informed the main character’s funny and at times tender voice. 

In my latest novel, Stream, I brought together the voices of Celi from The Moon Within and Elio from Ultraviolet. Both characters overuse screens and independently are sent to off-the-grid rural Mexico where they meet. There they discover who they really are and maybe find love in the process. Since I knew the voices of both characters so well, I thought this would be an easy undertaking. Elio, in particular, was so fresh in my mind because his book had just published, and I did not struggle with him at all. With Celi, however, I had to re-read The Moon Within to re-inhabit her voice and her world view. Sustaining the differentiation of their voices throughout an entire novel was the biggest challenge. In early drafts, I often found myself repeating metaphoric language in both voices. Armed with Linda Sue Park’s definition of voice, I did several revisions to make sure they did not sound like the same person even though they are both from Oakland and both thirteen. 

Sometimes in dual POV novels, the name of the character appears at the top of each poem or chapter, which is a sort of cheat code to help the reader know who is speaking. I used this device only for the first two poems, to establish each character’s voice and then trusted the strength of their differentiated voices. Because the story is written in verse, I also guided the reader by making Elio’s poems flush left and Celi’s flush right, another way to distinguish them. While I worked hard to let their voice (diction, rhythm, punctuation) do the heavy lifting, this strategy also gave the reader a visual clue as to who was speaking if the voice was not successful in achieving that clarity.  

Creating authentic middle grade voices requires precision of language; deep understanding of who the characters are and how they speak via their word choice, rhythm, and punctuation; and making sure that we as adults who write for children don’t impose our voices or viewpoints on the page. Becoming “voice conscience” has been one of the most important tools in my craft toolkit and something I will continue to explore as I evolve as a writer. 

~

Aida Salazar is an award-winning author and arts activist whose writings for adults and children explore issues of identity and social justice. She has written several multi-award-winning middle-grade verse novels, including The Moon Within, Land of the Cranes, and Ultraviolet, an ALA Notable and Pura Belpré Honor Book. Her acclaimed picture books include the Caldecott Honor Book Jovita Wore Pants: The Story of a Mexican Freedom Fighter, illustrated by Molly Mendoza, and In the Spirit of a Dream: 13 Stories of American Immigrants of Color. Salazar lives with her family of artists in Oakland, California.

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