You Should Start Being a Mimic in Your Writing
This powerful strategy could make (or break) your next story
I used to be obsessed with books about Drizzt Do’Urden. A silly character from a silly fantasy series created by a prolific writer who my grade 12 English teacher affectionately referred to as a “charlatan.”
But the author wasn’t to me. He wrote over 36 books with the character stretching all the way since ’88. More than 15 million copies sold. 22 were New York Times bestsellers.
Hell, even a few video games were based on his writing.
Not bad for a charlatan.
But R.A. Salvatore’s books meant more to me than just a great story. His picturesque descriptions, the conflicting paths of dozens of characters, the sheer emotion you could feel as you immersed yourself in his worlds — his books were nothing short of riveting to me.
And every time I was in the middle of one of his novels, I found my inner voice had completely transformed.
I was roaming around talking to myself in his voice, narrating my own life as if it were in the Forgotten Realms itself.
I may have been an odd child.
We Mimic Unconsciously
I’m sure you’ve heard of mirroring — the unconscious mimicking of other people’s gestures, speaking styles, and attitudes.
- It’s why bosses aren’t a fan of never-ending complainers. They can often spoil the whole bunch of apples.
- It’s why I sometimes end my sentences with “mate,” even though I’ve never spent more than a week in the UK or Australia.
- It’s why psychopath leaders are so hard to spot — and somewhere around 20% of our CEOs have the personality trait.
But it’s not a bad thing. In fact, researchers believe it’s a necessary part of the human component. That it’s a key to our “ability to process social information” — except when it goes overboard (cough, cough, Elon).
The question is: Can you turn this innate human tool on its head and apply it to your own words?
I Think You Can
Perhaps you’ve noticed this phenomenon can extend to reading, just like my childhood self.
When you spend an entire day reading just one author, can you help but feel the twists and turns and fluctuations of the writer’s style sneaking into your internal voice?
Surely when you read another author’s articles, one after another— you get a sense of how their brain writes.
Acting coaches use it extensively. Mimic the scene and learn from the pros.
Math tutors use it when they ask students to repeat their actions after showing them how to do something.
Language teachers use it when teaching kids new phrases and grammar:
Repeat after me, class: “I will write better wordlings than J.J. or I will bring shame to my parents.”
Even one of the greatest wordsmiths of our time, Kurt Vonnegut, also famously alluded to this:
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”
We mimic what we consume.
And that can be a powerful force.
Listen to My Words, Not My Actions
Mimicry can be a double-edged sword. Imitate too much and you can be accused of copyright infringement.
Imitate too little, and you can fail a course you paid good money for. The kid who doesn’t imitate his teacher in swimming class might not come back the next time (or ever).
If I spend 8 hours just reading Sean Kernan’s stories of how companies royally fucked up, I’ll probably start sounding like a cheap imitation of him.
Give me 20 self-help articles from Tim Denning and my writing will take on a slight faux-Aussie twang.
If you spend tomorrow night reading through all of my articles, your next piece will probably include a recipe for peanut butter tuna sandwiches (and suck).
But the point is, you can use this to learn from other authors. You can absorb aspects of their style and incorporate them into your own writing — just be careful about how you apply it.
Everything in moderation — especially tuna.
The Flaw in Writing Advice (Oh, the Irony)
One of the biggest problems with writing advice, whether it’s verbal, written, or physical(?), is the application of it.
Personally, I want to improve my writing and spend hours every week reading up on the subject. But when I come back a week later and check, I’ll only see a few tidbits of the juicy pieces of advice I had read.
Most of it escapes me while I’m in the moment.
That’s why some people write these tips down on paper. I used to have a massive wall of post-it notes at my old office for this reason alone.
But most of them went unread — they just didn’t stick to my active writing voice.
It can get even scarier. Have you ever felt like you lost your voice in a way? It’s a terrible feeling.
For the generalist writers out there, it can be a constant source of conflict. If you first write a satire piece in the morning, it’s almost a guarantee your next article on Nazi Germany will contain a few inappropriately humorous quips.
It’s not like it’s a personal flaw, either. We simply can’t turn off our brains when switching between subjects and actions. The modern onslaught of distractions is even thought to reduce our productivity by 40% or more — sheesh.
It’s one of the biggest arguments AGAINST being a generalist writer — writing in the same category can develop a voice incredibly faster than writing about the sweet pleasures of tuna and peanut butter before switching back to the somber topic of a telegram saving the World from destruction.
But How Can I Use This For My Writing?
About 3 months ago I started using a new approach. If I were a more patient lizard person, er, human being, I would do this with every article I write.
But basking in the sun is pretty high on the list for me…for some strange reason.
When I’m trying to write a piece in a certain genre, I’ll read a few pieces from my favorite authors in that niche to get into the mood. To get into the flow of things.
The flow of mimicry.
It starts up the engines when there’s no gas sitting around. It gets the brain flowing when the words may have come out dry, boring, or bland — or not at all.
I find hearing the voice of others in my head, when I’m about to write an idea that I’ve already fleshed out, gets me in the zone faster than an original bottle of Coke ever could have helped.
And it doesn’t take much for this.
Just reading 3–5 articles or pages from the authors is usually enough.
Need to write something funny? Head over to The Haven. Want to be intelligently angry at society? Go check out umair haque. Need to be over-the-top, cringy, and overly positive with advice no one will ever actually use? Head to the front page.
All it takes is 15 minutes of your time and it will knock any form of writer’s block straight out of your head faster than a cat in your bathtub.
And for the generalists out there — you can even use your previous writing to do this!
Takeaway
The only other point to make here that you should be careful. Don’t consume someone’s work too much before writing your own piece.
No one likes work that is completely imitated, even if it is the sincerest form of flattery.
People read the works of their favorite authors because they appreciate that author’s unique voice.
It doesn’t matter if that author has aspects of Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut, and Paris Hilton — it will be a unique combination of what they learned from other authors and their own life experiences.
Hopefully, this voice is something beautiful, and not just a poor imitation of a certain person.
And just in case the thought of mimicry severely upsets you as a purist writer, kindly try to remember:
“There is nothing [entirely] new under the sun.”
And with billions of articles published every year, that’s probably true for our writing, too.
If you like peanut butter and tuna, you’ll probably love my free newsletter. Thanks for reading!