Everything we write reflects our own personal style, whether we want it to or not. We are artists who paint with words. Our palette and composition are composed of words, phrases, sentences within the framework of our published works. Every time you put words together to express your thoughts you do so in a way that is subtly (or not) unique to you.
How can every writer have his or her own style? Surely, if every author took a different approach to writing the results would be literary mayhem. And yet, we each yearn to develop our own voice. Do you want to know the secret?
Don't try.
Let your own style emerge from the confidence of your grasp of the language, all on its own. The way you walk is subtly different from the way everyone else walks.However, unless you have spent the last four months in rehab, it's unlikely you have given any thought to the process or to making your gait unique. Your personal writing style will evolve in the same way, if you let it.
Master the mechanics, and let your confidence do the rest.
As writers, we all learn the same rules. We have read Strunk and White's Elements of Style more than once. We've read endless advice from respected blogs. We own a thesaurus and know how to use it. We have done our best to master the nuances of good grammar, and even learned when and how to carefully break those rules for best effect.
Years ago, our English teachers convinced us of the value of using the essay style to assemble factual articles. Our fiction weaves foreshadowing, metaphor, simile and theme to spin a tale that intrigues. We know, understand, and appreciate all the basics that comprise the mechanics of writing. Perhaps it's surprising, then, that no two articles or stories are exactly alike (except, of course, when one's work is plagiarized).
How could a writer have a unique writing style, then?
Pick up a novel penned by your favorite author. Read a page or two and notice how you settle into the comfort of his or her familiar phrasing. It's subtle, but incontrovertibly real. If the book had no cover and no credits, you'd probably still recognize the prose - even without character clues. Do you suppose that the author spent years pondering her "style" as she crafted her novels? Probably not.
A writer's style is as intricate and unfathomable as the mysterious brain connections behind the assembled words.
Every year, thousands of amateur authors compete to mirror Hemingway - one of the most imitated and recognizable styles in fiction. Bestselling authors have written homages to their heroes. Robert B. Parker, for instance, penned at least one novel in tribute to Raymond Chandler. Those efforts, however, remain only flattering imitation colored by the underlying style of the imitator.
Like it or not, you already have your own style.
I do. You do, and so do the writers you know or admire. We each take the pieces we are given - words and phrasing and more - and build our elaborate Tinkertoys of prose. Give each of three children a Tinkertoy set and ask them to build something. Despite the fact that all three use the same pieces and some of the same rules, the constructions that result will vary enormously. Watch any one of the three build successive structures, however, and patterns will emerge.
We are the same, in the way we write.
What, then, is the source of our own writing style?
* Word choice
We each have a finite vocabulary. None of us can, or should, master the entire collection of words that compose the language. We choose the words we trust, the ones we know intimately. Careful use of a dictionary and thesaurus lets us expand our comfort zone. Still, we only filter in new words that resonate with the phrasing we already prefer.
* Phrasing
From the time we first began to assemble sounds into words, we listened to the way others aligned those words into phrases. Some combinations pleased us, amused us, or amazed us; those we adopted for our own use over time. Subconsciously, we imitate the language nuances of those we love or respect: some from our parents and friends, some from newscasters and commercials, and more from the authors we admire. The result is an amalgam, unique to you.
* Cadence
Listen to a tape of Charles Kuralt or Walter Cronkite. Notice the way any talented speaker varies the length of his sentences, each with his own particular choice of word emphasis. There is a rhythm to the language, a beat, a melody. As a composer of words, you cannot help but develop your own lyrical style. We call it "your voice," because it does indeed arise from the thoughts "spoken aloud" inside your head, silently.
* Design
Here's the kicker. When you put all the pieces together, what does your writing LOOK like? Yes, words form a concrete image on the page. You determine paragraph length, construct dialog based upon the way you hear it, and choose how many paragraphs form a chapter - how many chapters make a page, how many pages a book, and so on.
What determines your approach? You do. As you absorb advice and criticism of your work, you make a series of decisions, conscious or otherwise, about the construction of your writing. You do it first because it pleases you, and over time because you achieve some measure of success in the results.
Should you "work on" your style?
Yes, you should - every time you write. And you will, even if you make no attempt to do so at all. You should choose the best words you know to assemble your thoughts in a way that feels right for you. When you write well, with confidence, you will never find yourself thinking, "aha! This is my Style!"
After you have dashed off your first draft, switched a word here and a phrase there, deleted some puffery in paragraphs two and seven, and clarified your thoughts in a careful rewrite - after you have done all that - your "style" will be there waiting for you. You don't have to seek it overtly. It's right there in front of you, splendid and unique. Yours.
Now get back to work.