Voices, narration, and self-acceptance
While Laura embraced narration through Shelter in Place, and got quick and regular affirmation for her warm, soothing sound, I was happy to stay far away from the microphone. On a few occasions I reluctantly recorded voice memos for our own or other podcasts, but I treated recording like going to the dentist: something to grimace about and get over with as quickly as possible.
Then in November 2020, I had a serious running injury, pulling my right glute and hamstring, which kept me away from running for several months. It was winter in Massachusetts: a dead, gray-brown world outside, and a dead gray-brown world inside me too.
I’d watch my kids skip gaily along on family hikes, as I gingerly gimped along behind, monitoring the dull ache in the back of my leg. “Ah, so this is what getting old feels like,” I would think. The kids would come to a downhill and say, “Hey daddy, let’s run!” And wary of worsening my injury, I’d reply, “sorry, I can’t.” I’d thought I was a pretty positive, even-keeled fellow, but without my daily running, I was struggling not to go full Eeyore.
At some point during that dark New England winter, it dawned on me that the only way out was through: I’d helped Laura get better clarity on life giving feedback on many Shelter in Place scripts she’d written, but as I peered through the clouds of self-pity, I saw I would have to face the keyboard and microphone myself. Write and voice my own episode.
Just like with swimming lessons as a kid, accepting that narration was unavoidable forced me to grow. I had to start taking narration seriously, think of it like a professional: not as a chore, but as part of the job.
So I reviewed the vocal tips we’d gotten from trained actress Michele O’Brien:
First, physical preparation: do vocal warmups. Drink hot lemon tea. Stand up when you record. Smile!
Then the psychological preparation: imagine that you’re talking to a close friend or family member, not reading a script. Speak in thoughts, not sentences. Read through the script, to the real message inside the words.
Delivery preparation: read your script aloud, revise words or phrases you stumble over, and try delivering key passages in different ways.
Try delivering key passages in different ways. Try delivering key passages in different ways. Repeat until you sound engaging and natural.
And you know what happened when I started doing proper prep? I sounded better. Before, you could sense that I didn’t really want to be recording myself. But as I embraced narration as a necessary part of podcast creation and self-understanding — I found I could embrace my voice better too.
And another funny thing happened: you know how when someone finds colors or styles that flatter them, they start dressing more confidently, and then people compliment them on their outfits? That happened with my voice: as I started projecting more confidence in my narration, I started getting compliments on it too.
And best of all, accepting my voice was a model for accepting myself in other ways, like my above-average need for time alone. My barely-average height. My below-average capacity for kid stuff. My way-below-average knack for details and schedules.
Whether or not you’re starting your podcasting journey from a place of vocal embarrassment like I was, I hope creating takes each of you on a similar journey to self-acceptance. Our voices are perfect symbols for our creative work in general, because just like our families, our genetics, and our personalities, we have to work with what we’ve got. But with the right attitude, preparation, and practice, we can unlock our better selves. Unbox hidden talents. And make contributions to the world that only we can.
In our podcast episodes and these blog posts, we share creativity and life lessons, and self-acceptance is a big one in both areas. But I did also want to share one more tidbit that fits with that theme. We were venting to our friend Gabriel the other day about the near-constant bickering and backbiting when our three kids are around the house. A professional counselor, he pointed out that it’s easier to change the environment than to change people. So for example, you can try to get them to stop pestering each other — or as he does with his three kids, you can have each of them in an activity one afternoon a week so they’re just not around each other all the time. I found that so encouraging, because like changing our voices, changing our children is close to impossible. But some preparation can help us live better as a family.
Do I still wish I had one of those deep, majestic, radio-type voices? Yeah, sometimes. With voice acting, just like anything else, there are people who are just naturally gifted (see links below). But in a world where everyone had the same Preview Guy voice, everyone would only be suited for voicing Preview Guy kinds of stories. Sure, there are some great audio stories with explosions and monsters and car chases — but what about the quirky stories? The heartfelt stories? The narrative podcasting-meets-creative-living stories?
The beauty of embracing your voice is the beauty of embracing your . . . self: the way each voice is like no other, is instantly recognizable, and is uniquely qualified to voice the stories only you can tell.
Happy recording, and we can’t wait to hear your voice. And if this post has inspired you to grow in your narration abilities as well, we’d love to see you in our recording & narration workshop.
A few folks with naturally charismatic voices:
Michele O’Brien, intensive grad, Upright Citizens Brigade alumna, professional voice talent, and podcast producer. I could listen to her all day!
Will Sarris, childhood friend and current voice talent and video producer. Just like his dad, he’s got a “classic radio voice.”
Interview with Don LaFontaine, the late legendary “Preview Guy.”