Does Your Voice Actually Matter?
The one where we talk about BHM, authentic voices, the Twilight saga, and the responsibility of storytellers
Happy Monday, my friends!
Authenticity and representation in fiction is a topic that’s very important to talk about beyond just the month of February (I hope you all are taking moments to understand and honor everything that Black Americans went through to contribute to our culture for Black History Month). This article that wrote for us is a wonderful exploration of why your authentic voice matters using examples from the novel “Their Eyes Were Watching God.”
It can be scary to trust your own voice when you think you are alone in your experiences. Chime in the comments with a unique experience or identity that you live with and let’s connect you with other brave writers who can say, “me too!”
(OBA Media Newsletter Editor-in-Chief)
P.S. Scroll all the way down for your early release of our next podcast episode, where we talk about the few things the Twilight films got very right!
Stop Trying to Write For Everyone: Lessons in Authenticity from Their Eyes Were Watching God
We often think the stories that change us are loud, flashy, or wrapped in gimmicks. But the truth is that the best stories are raw, real, and unapologetically human. Few books have driven this point home for me like Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, which is a wonderful story to discuss not only in honor of Black History Month, but because we need authenticity and representation in all of our stories all of the time.
The novel tells the story of Janie Crawford, a Black woman in early 1900s Florida, as she navigates love, loss, and self-discovery through three marriages. Set in the fictional town of Eatonville and the non-fictional Florida Everglades, it’s a powerful exploration of finding your voice and identity in a world full of challenges. It’s a masterclass in authenticity — of voice, setting, and subject matter — even when that authenticity challenges societal norms. This brutal daring is what makes the book unforgettable, and what can make your story just as powerful.
Authenticity is a buzz word as of late, thrown around by elitist social media influencers and big company marketers who love to use the term in their business models and planning meetings. But, unsurprisingly, their “realism” ends up seeming just as untouchable or shallow to us as every other authoritative voice shouting for attention. With this kind of vocal bombardment, authenticity can seem impossible to truly achieve. Fortunately, you already have authentic material inside of you.
It’s tempting to think that your story isn’t “mainstream enough” to resonate. Hurston proves otherwise. Her novel pulses with culture and voice, unmistakably tied to 1920s and 30s in the Deep South. While not directly biographical, Hurston was able to take from her own experiences and upbringing — steeped in the traditions, dialects, and oral histories of Southern Black communities — to bring us this fresh perspective.
If you’re like me, you’ve wrestled with doubts: Does my story matter? Should I write something more “universal”? Hurston teaches us that the stories closest to who we are — the ones shaped by our culture and voice — are the ones that resonate the deepest. Their Eyes Were Watching God doesn’t compromise. Its vernacular, themes, and characters stand unapologetically in their truth.
So, how do we embrace our authentic voice? How do we make culture a living, breathing part of our work? Let’s talk about it.
What Makes a Voice Authentic?
One of the most striking aspects of Hurston’s novel is the dialogue — rich, consistent, and deeply rooted in place. But what do we really mean when we say a story has an “authentic voice”?
The classic dictionary definition of “authentic” as a subject is: “not false or [an] imitation; true to one’s personality, spirit, or character.”
So, being honest seems to be the easy key to authentic writing. Yet we’re surrounded by stories that feel hollow — soulless cash grabs designed to mimic trends instead of saying something real.
The difference between the heartless and the soulful is that authentic stories come from a place of truth. They’re not trying to be something they’re not. Imagine if Their Eyes Were Watching God were written by someone unfamiliar with Black culture or Eatonville’s rhythms. While the character of Nanny is an old southern women shaped by slavery and trauma, her dialogue with her granddaughter — a wide-eyed, idealistic young woman — might sound something like this:
Nanny: “Sweetheart, the white man controls everything as far as I’ve seen. The Black man passes his burdens to the Black woman, who carries the weight of the world.”
Janie: “I don’t want to marry someone just because I’m supposed to.”
Now, compare that to Hurston’s version:
Nanny: “Honey, de white man is de ruler of everything as fur as Ah been able tuh find out. Maybe it’s some place way off in de ocean where de black man is in power, but we don’t know nothin’ but what we see. So de white man throw down de load and tell de black man tuh pick it up. He pick it up because he have to, but he don’t tote it. He hand it to his womenfolks. De n**** woman is de mule uh de world so fur as Ah can see.”
Janie: “Ah don’t want no husband outa duty.”
See the difference? The rhythm, tone, and vernacular carry weight. Hurston’s words immerse us in a lived experience, teaching us about the culture while addressing universal themes of power and inequality. Authenticity isn’t just about accuracy — it’s about grounding your story in a truth that feels lived in and real.
Culture as a Character
Culture isn’t just a backdrop — it’s a living, breathing part of your story. Done well, it becomes a character in its own right, shaping the people, plot, and even the emotional tone. Hurston shows us this potential masterfully through Eatonville. The town isn’t just a setting, but alive with quirks, melodies, and the aspirations of its people.
Take the iconic “porch conversations.” They frame the book, introducing Janie and Eatonville. The gossiping women on the porch dissect everything from Janie’s clothing to her circumstances:
“What she doin’ coming back here in dem overhalls? Can’t she find no dress to put on? — Where’s dat blue satin dress she left here in? — Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her?”
These dialogues aren’t just idle chatter but windows into Eatonville’s communal culture. The porch becomes a space of both camaraderie and judgment, a stage where the town’s collective personality plays out. These moments ground us in the setting, making the town feel as vivid and real as any character.
Then there’s the barbershop-like debates between the men on the varying porches. As Hurston writes:
“The men held big arguments here like they used to at a ‘meeting place’… Some looked at the ground, others leaned at the doorposts, and still others sat on boxes, their faces beaming.”
If you’re Black, this scene immediately feels familiar — it mirrors modern “barbershop culture,” where debates and conversations flourish. Even in the 1930s, this dynamic was ingrained in the community, making the world of Eatonville feel timeless and relatable.
There’s also the hurricane scene, which gives us the “Aha!” moment of symbolism behind the novel’s poetic title:
“They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.”
In this moment, the townspeople confront the overwhelming force of nature together. The scene is not just a plot point — it’s a moment that highlights the humility, resilience, and spiritual strength deeply rooted in Southern Black culture.
Eatonville jumps off the page because the town is built on small, authentic details. Every bit of gossip, every shared meal, and the hurricane scene itself all watched from a porch adds texture and depth to the story.
Think about your own world. Maybe there’s an old man outside your grocery store holding a cardboard sign with a story of his misfortune. Maybe your neighbors gossip in a way that’s unique to your town, or your mom has a secret lasagna recipe everyone raves about. These little details might seem insignificant, but they’re what make your story feel real. They’re what invite readers into your world and keep them there.
Culture as a character isn’t limited to literary fiction or historical novels. Worldbuilding serves the same purpose in fantasy, sci-fi, action, and any genre. Whether you are recounting a bustling starport full of merchants trading in alien slang or a tight-knit family of vigilantes who share a prayer before every mission, these cultural details breathe life into your story.
So, don’t hold back. Let the culture of your world — real or imagined — take on a life of its own. It’s not just the flavor of your story; it’s the heart of it.
Why Your Story Matters
It’s easy to worry that your story won’t connect. Maybe your culture feels “too niche,” or your voice “too different.” Hurston faced similar criticisms — her work wasn’t always celebrated in her time. But Their Eyes Were Watching God endures because the novel came from a place of truth. Her writing didn’t try to cater to everyone. The story spoke to those who needed to hear it. Today, her book is regarded as a classic, and lives on long after she left this world.
Your story matters because you matter. Stories aren’t just about characters or plots — they’re about the writer. They’re about what you care about and the truths you want to share. By being authentic, you invite readers into your world and teach them empathy for experiences they might never otherwise understand.
Bottom Line
Authenticity isn’t as mysterious or elitist as it seems. It’s about being real, writing fearlessly, and sharing your truth. The world doesn’t need another echo. It needs your unique song. Don’t be afraid to sing it.
Not sure what your authentic voice sounds like or if anyone will care about your story? We’ve been there. Let’s fix it. Get your FREE Consultation with an OBA pro writer/editor—because your story deserves to be told, not abandoned. You bring the vision, we’ll help you land the punch.
Struggling with Character Arcs in Your Writing?
This episode is for you. As a subscriber to OBA’s newsletter you get early access to our podcast episodes. Today, the team is talking about the Twilight saga and how this controversial series became an enduring pop culture legacy. We’re also welcoming our first guest on the show: Ceyda Gunduz!
Let's Talk: "Twilight"
In this episode of ‘Let's Talk Stories!’ your hosts—along with our first show guest—have a detailed discussion about the Twilight saga, exploring our personal histories with the series, character analyses, and the overall plot structure. We’re sharing our thoughts on Bella Swan as a protagonist, the supporting characters, the conflicts that drive the story, character arcs, and our responsibility as storytellers. Join us as we discuss the nostalgia surrounding the series, the consequences of immortality, and the dynamics of the love triangle between Edward and Jacob!
Catch up with our previous episodes here:
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to answer in the next “Director’s Cut” episode, feel free to reply to this email or drop a comment!CAPTAIN’S LOG
2/16/2025
I am elbow-deep in a round of line edits for Jared’s debut novel that OBA Media is publishing, “My Sister’s Keeper.” We gave ourselves a hard deadline for getting the manuscript ready to send to beta readers: February 28. *cue internal screaming* I’m absolutely stoked for this story to get out into the world and start touching people, but we have a lot of work to get done in a very short amount of time.
Trying to gain traction as a media company with no budget and a very small team is also extremely taxing and time-consuming. Not to mention every team member here is doing all of this as a second job, not our only job. The work days recently have been very long, and I have been having to realize that brutal prioritization is necessary. Although I HATE getting behind on my inbox and other responsibilities I feel I should be keeping on top of, I need to focus on accomplishing my two chapters of line and copy edits every day first, then prioritize rest so my brain and body is ready for work again tomorrow.
Jared introduced a concept that has been helping me tremendously: Get 3 wins for the day—on the rough days they can be small—and trust that is a solid step forward. Celebrate them by letting yourself mentally check out until the next day.